Apocalypse: King of Zombies Chapter 1258: The Next Target: Fallen Star City

As Ethan and his companions were acclimatizing to their newfound strength, the satellite phone on Ethan’s person began to emit a ringing sound.

Ethan furrowed his brow in confusion and picked up the call nonchalantly.

A few moments later, his expression grew grave.

After concluding the call, he remained motionless, lost in thought.

“Red-skinned. Humanoid. Tier 15 or higher…”

“Indeed. That is unequivocally a creature from the Void Realm.”

He had not anticipated that creatures from the Void Realm would be the first to breach their defenses and cause chaos. Instead, the Yamato Empire had seen fit to deliver a contingent directly to their doorstep.

“You are playing with fire,” Ethan murmured.

“Ethan, what is happening?” Chris and the others approached quickly.

“General Kane just made contact. Nova City is facing a group of red-skinned monstrosities—unbelievably powerful. Minimum Tier 15.”

“Tier 15?!” Everyone was taken aback. “Does Nova City also have a Void Realm breach?”

“No,” Ethan clarified, shaking his head. “The Yamato Empire transported them.”

“Damn it—those Yamato scoundrels are trying to get us all annihilated!” Big Mike exclaimed, his voice laced with fury.

“Yes,” Ethan confirmed. “That seems to be their intention.”

Chris’s eyes brightened. “Then let us hasten to the scene and investigate. It’s perfect timing—we’ve just become stronger and have been eager to test our mettle. Tier 15 opponents are ideal for practice!”

“Practice my foot,” Ethan retorted, rolling his eyes. “Keep talking like that, and you’ll ‘practice’ yourself straight into an early grave.”

“They utilized a Tier 9 sensing-type Enhanced individual to assess the threats,” Ethan elaborated. “He was unable to detect anything specific, so they are estimating Tier 15 and above.”

“In essence—Tier 15 is the baseline. There is no discernible upper limit.”

“…”

Chris’s face stiffened. “So… they are essentially making a wild guess?”

“Not entirely,” Ethan replied. “The ‘Tier 15 and above’ designation is reliable. The disparity is simply too vast to quantify beyond that point. And frankly, this was the only viable method.”

Big Mike scratched his head. “So, are we going or not?”

“We are going,” Ethan declared. “We will assess the situation first. Those red-skinned fiends cannot fly. We have Flint and the others—if we find ourselves outmatched, we can retreat.”

“And in the absolute worst-case scenario…” His gaze shifted sideways. “We still possess our trump card—Dopey. We are not going down that easily.”

Everyone nodded in agreement.

“Very well. Inform Miles,” Ethan instructed. “We depart tomorrow morning.”

He sighed, a mixture of amusement and frustration evident. “So much for staying home and recuperating. It appears I am simply destined for strenuous labor.”

By that evening, Miles and the group of “scholars” he had assembled to decipher ancient languages had successfully completed the translation of the Ritual Circle Compendium.

Miles had proceeded with extreme caution. Whenever he encountered a passage he couldn't fully grasp, he meticulously copied it separately and distributed portions to different individuals for concurrent research.

Consequently, even after a full day of work, none of them possessed a complete understanding of the material—thereby posing no genuine risk of information leakage.

Miles always operated with such airtight security measures. Even with those he trusted implicitly, he maintained a hidden contingency.

In matters of this nature, he exhibited even greater meticulousness than Ethan.

That evening, all convened for a meal at an expansive table, and Ethan briefed them on the unfolding events in Nova City.

Upon learning of their imminent departure, Miles could only offer a resigned shake of his head.

It seemed the responsibility of constructing the new compound would fall to him, once more.

However, he was accustomed to this arrangement by now. Moreover, the situation in Nova City was of paramount urgency. He fully endorsed Ethan’s squad setting out at the earliest opportunity.

Early the subsequent morning, the Fallen Star Squad mobilized and departed from Fallen Star City.

Irrespective of Miles, even the common populace of Fallen Star City observed their Commander with bewilderment, a figure who seemingly never remained in one place for long.

It was as though he treated his own home with the transient nature of a mere roadside inn.

Silverlake City compound…

The major military-constructed compound had undergone a change in authority.

A new faction now held sway over Silverlake City.

When the Riverton City compound launched its assault, Silverlake’s inhabitants had scoffed, utterly convinced of their adversaries’ overreach.

Then, Riverton City unexpectedly unleashed several colossal, grotesque behemoths—creatures that bore little resemblance to humanity. They charged headlong through artillery barrages, breached the compound, and commenced a brutal slaughter.

Any individual offering resistance was summarily executed. Their terrifying might instilled profound dread in all who witnessed it.

The fighters from Riverton, propelled by this formidable momentum, crashed through the main gates. They stormed the command structure, annihilated Silverlake City’s leadership, and forcefully usurped control of the compound.

The event transpired with such astonishing rapidity that the majority of Silverlake City’s populace had insufficient time to react before the allegiance flag was altered.

Following the takeover, Riverton City’s leader, Garrett Knox, immediately proclaimed himself the new Commander of the Silverlake City compound. Any dissenting voices were ruthlessly suppressed through force.

With the assistance of those formidable powerhouses, he swiftly solidified his dominion.

Now, at the entrance of a grand mansion situated in the compound’s central district, Garrett and several high-ranking officials from Riverton City arrived, each bearing a chalice filled with fresh blood.

Garrett drew a deep breath, then cautiously rapped on the door.

“Enter!”

A harsh, rasping voice responded from within.

Garrett eased the door open and ushered the others inside, immediately dropping to his knees and presenting the bowls overhead.

The Commander of the Silverlake City compound, recently crowned, appeared like a subservient lackey.

Moments later, several imposing, grotesque figures emerged from the room's depths.

They accepted the bowls from Garrett's grasp and drained the contents in a single motion, their countenances shifting with palpable intoxication.

“Lord Monroe…” Garrett inquired in a hushed tone. “Shall we proceed with assaults on other compounds?”

“Naturally,” the leader, Monroe, responded, his voice a muted, grating rumble. “My intention is to subjugate everyone in this world… to make them my thralls.”

He inclined forward, his eyes alight with fervor. “You shall manage these minions. Maintain your fealty to us, and you will preside over these slaves in the future.”

“Understood, Lord Monroe!” Garrett's expression brightened considerably with eagerness.

Shortly after, Garrett and his contingent retreated from the mansion.

Monroe exchanged knowing glances with his associates, a collective smirk playing on their lips.

They had never envisioned that emerging from the very portal used by those feeble insects would lead them to such a magnificent realm.

This world captivated them.

The spectacular vistas, the abundant, potent 'Qi'—and most crucially, the indigenous inhabitants were deplorably weak.

In their origin world, they had been insignificant beings, disregarded by all.

But here?

Here, they reveled in a life of absolute dominion.

Their communication was a series of guttural, harsh sounds.

“Grrk… klak… vrash…”

(This realm pleases me. I have no desire to return.)

“Vrak… krr.”

(Nor I.)

“Krrash… drak… vrash!”

(Then we shall sever the portal. This world will be ours. We will command billions of thralls.)

“Grr.”

(Affirmative.)

Meanwhile, the instant Garrett exited the mansion, he convened an immediate assembly to formulate subsequent attack strategies.

With Lord Monroe's backing, Garrett's personal might had surged exponentially.

The crystal cores Monroe had generously bestowed were precisely the kind Garrett once only dared to dream of acquiring. With minimal exertion, Monroe had propelled him to the C-Stage of 'Cultivation'.

He was profoundly grateful for his swift surrender earlier; otherwise, forget about advancement—the Riverton City compound would have been annihilated.

Garrett did not perceive subservience as a source of shame.

Only a fool would engage in a futile conflict.

By becoming a vassal to these 'Void Realm' entities, he had effortlessly secured a position of authority over a major compound—a feat he had never dared to contemplate.

Admittedly, a portion of his dignity had been compromised.

But solely in their presence.

Publicly, before all others? He now possessed more prestige than ever before.

“Ah, yes,” Garrett stated, tapping the table. “I had tasked you with investigating the location of that so-called Fallen Star City. Any findings?”

“Indeed,” a subordinate affirmed. “Fallen Star City is situated within Golden Valley State, in a secluded locale formerly known as Redmont City. It is not excessively distant from our current position.”

“Is that so?” Garrett's eyes shimmered with anticipation.

“Rescind the preceding directive,” he commanded instantly. “Our next objective—Fallen Star City.”

“Yes, sir!”

His personnel swiftly departed to implement the new orders.

A cold, triumphant smile spread across Garrett's lips.

“Hmph. Fallen Star Squad?”

“The humiliation you inflicted upon me…” His gaze narrowed ominously. “I shall repay you a hundredfold.”