Apocalypse: King of Zombies Chapter 1230: Annihilation Strike

“Annihilation Strike?” Chris bent closer, his eyes gleaming with interest. “That sounds overpowered. Ethan, care to demonstrate it for us?”

The others fixed their gazes on Ethan, resembling eager children anticipating a spectacular feat.

“Of course,” Ethan replied with a nod. “I’d like to test it out myself as well.”

He guided them to the backyard area.

Beneath their expectant stares, Ethan drew his poleaxe. His face grew intense, the casual friendliness vanishing from his gaze as if a switch had been triggered.

A dark, inky radiance enveloped the blade.

Next, Ethan drove the poleaxe forcefully into the earth.

“BOOM!”

A thunderous explosion rocked the yard. The ground collapsed, forming a huge crater roughly five or six meters in depth. Clouds of dust and debris erupted, covering everyone in a fresh layer of grime.

In the vicinity, residents near the mansion turned ashen with terror.

“Those freaks are at it with the destruction again! Hope they don’t collapse our homes too!”

“I’m done. Tomorrow, I’m requesting a transfer. This is terrifying!”

Within the yard, the team ignored the dirt on them. They remained rooted, mouths agape, peering down into the enormous hole.

“So… incredibly powerful…”

“Holy crap. Versus an equal Tier opponent, it’s an instant kill.”

“Even a Tier 13 might not withstand that directly.”

“That’s unbelievable.”

Ethan shrugged his shoulders and let out a breath. “It packs a punch, sure. But the price is steep.”

That attack had consumed nearly a third of his mental energy for such devastating results.

Nevertheless… Ethan felt a deep sense of fulfillment. At this power level, scarcely a peak Tier 12 could endure it.

“Damn, I can’t wait to reach Stage C,” Big Mike grumbled, his face twisted in jealousy.

Chris quickly doused his hopes. “Hitting Stage C won’t guarantee a skill like that. Ethan chose his deliberately. Yours would be pure luck.”

“…” Big Mike’s expression spasmed.

“What if I get something epic?” he shot back defiantly.

“Keep dreaming,” Chris retorted. “The chances are slimmer than lottery odds.”

“…”

“Enough,” Ethan interjected, his voice shifting to businesslike. “Regardless, push your Tiers as quickly as possible. The weakest Stage C skill outshines any Stage D.”

He met each of their eyes directly. “Plus, you all possess Innate Abilities. Upon reaching Stage C, those abilities will evolve once more. Your fighting strength will surge dramatically.”

“Right,” they chorused, nodding with determination.

In the following days, they secluded themselves inside for intense training. Apart from rest and meals, nearly all their time fueled cultivation efforts.

Thanks to Henry’s ritual circle, mysterious energy absorption worked around the clock, at speeds far surpassing their previous methods.

However, the circle’s potency demanded a heavy toll.

Nine crystal cores were required per session. Even Tier 9 ones sustained just one complete day of intake.

Using Tier 8 cores accelerated the drain—needing two replacements daily—with noticeably thinner mysterious energy.

This caused their crystal core demands to soar once more.

Much of their earlier reserves had gone to Miles for Fallen Star City’s growth. Their current stock mainly came from zombies slain en route to Atlas City—and it was limited.

They had seized over a million crystal cores from the Hale family, true, but nearly all were Tier 6 or lower. Such weak cores offered them little now. Fine for Tier 5 or 6 Enhanced perhaps, but useless for Fallen Star Squad.

As for Tier 6-and-below cores… even synthesizing via government methods wouldn’t yield many Tier 9 ones.

Thus, when Tier 9 stocks depleted, hunting zombies became inevitable again.

Zombies were scarce within Atlas City limits. The Safe Zone dispatched squads daily to purge nearby areas.

Ethan’s group faced the same dilemma. For kills, they needed to venture afar.

Fortunately, flying mounts made travel trivial.

Tier 9 zombies appeared frequently now. A full day’s effort netted dozens.

Consequently, high-Tier zombies near Atlas City faced total doom.

Fallen Star Squad targeted only elite zombies. Swarms provided no cover—these maniacs descended from above with eagle-like vision. No camouflage fooled them; elites got pinpointed.

Catch. Kill. Depart.

Their strikes were so swift and ferocious, zombies suffered psychological scars.

Meanwhile, as Fallen Star Squad massacred zombies by day, absorbed mysterious energy via the ritual circle, and climbed Tiers, invitations from Atlas City reached compounds across the Atlas Federation.

Typically, amid apocalypse chaos, such summons would be ignored.

Beyond Safe Zones, civilian compounds arose from leaders’ ambitions. Ambitious sorts avoided government ties—especially distant Atlas City, where journeys risked annihilation.

Yet Atlas City dangled an irresistible lure no leader could dismiss:

Deliver low-Tier crystal cores to Atlas City for higher-Tier exchanges—roughly a dozen for one Tier upgrade.

Every compound rose atop zombie slaughter. Leaders hoarded crystal cores aplenty.

Mostly low-Tier remnants, since high-Tier ones vanished long ago.

Low-Tier cores gathered dust in storage, worthless yet kept.

Suddenly, those stockpiles promised true strength.

Hearts raced for most.

Zombies grew fiercer, hunting humans proactively. Compounds fell daily. Leaders lived in paranoia.

Atlas City’s proposal struck survival nerves, not mere greed.

Doubts of scam or ambush lingered for some.

Faith prevailed for most.

What remained trustworthy if not the Atlas Federation’s top authority?

Thus, ambition ignited widely. Hazards be damned—they headed to Atlas City.

Paths were perilous, but elite squads could handle it.

Compounds lacked overall might, yet mustered monster-tier fighters.

Surviving founders wielded hidden edges.

Soon, squad after squad departed compounds, laden with cores, bound for Atlas City.

Fallen Star City…

Miles set down the phone, muttering thoughtfully.

“Captain said Atlas City’s synthesis takes ten to twenty cores per one… so this exchange barely breaks even for them?”

His eyes narrowed, followed by a slight nod.

“Seems Atlas City’s leadership isn’t half bad. Next visitor from there gets a welcome, not the boot.”

He rubbed his chin.

“My pocket dimension holds plenty of cores. Soon, I’ll trade up for higher Tiers.”

“But not now. Captain’s crew is already there. No need for me.”

His focus sharpened abruptly.

“Harrison City’s nearly purged. Next up: Stonebridge City zombies.”

“Stonebridge once teemed with over two million souls,” Miles whispered, eagerness lighting his eyes. “Zombie numbers… should be bountiful.”

Excitement flickered in his gaze.