Apocalypse: King of Zombies Chapter 1291: Second Try

"Ethan… you didn't grasp it?" Henry inquired, appearing genuinely puzzled.

It was quite astonishing, in all honesty. Ethan making an error was a rare occurrence.

"Miscalculated the timing," Ethan stated, wincing.

His initial strategy had been seamless: a single strike to incapacitate the Flamebird leader, secure it, then leap back onto the poleaxe—at which point Absolute Stasis would conclude precisely as planned. Henry and Ethan would provide cover for Skinny Pete while Pete initiated Beast Control on the leader. A flawless sequence. Mission accomplished.

However, Absolute Stasis dissipated approximately half a second sooner than Ethan had anticipated.

Half a second might not seem significant.

It completely disrupted their plan.

"Why would its duration be shortened?" Ethan pondered aloud, his brow furrowed.

He cast a glance back at the immense swarm of Flamebirds filling the sky.

"…Could it be due to the sheer number of targets?"

His eyes narrowed as he rapidly deduced. "If the quantity of targets is excessive… or if the entity you are attempting to freeze is exceptionally powerful… does that curtail the duration of Absolute Stasis?"

Thus far, that was the sole explanation that seemed plausible.

Skinny Pete gulped. "Then… Captain, what is the course of action now?"

"It is manageable," Ethan asserted. "I will recuperate slightly, and then we will attempt it again. I struck that leader with considerable force. The next time we are within range, I will seize it."

Skinny Pete indicated hesitation before carefully suggesting, "What if… Henry and I wait on the ground below? You bring it down to us, and I will control it there?"

His voice was soft, and Ethan could not fault him. The recent fall had clearly left a deep impression.

Ethan contemplated the proposal for a moment before shaking his head. "It would be too far from the ground. I would be encircled before I could descend with it."

Given that Absolute Stasis was only effective for slightly over a second, and Teleportation was incapable of transporting a living entity… that single second was insufficient for him to break free from the flock while simultaneously holding the leader.

Furthermore, Ethan had observed the glint in the eyes of those birds when he had attempted to seize their commander.

Their intention was not mere combat. They were prepared to perish in the attempt.

If it were only Ethan, evading their encirclement would be feasible.

But if it were Ethan dragging a colossal, living Flamebird leader?

Indeed. Utterly impossible.

Therefore, the optimal strategy remained unchanged: Skinny Pete would stay in close proximity, Ethan would deliver the leader directly to him, Pete would then assert control over it on the spot—and consequently, the leader would command the remainder of the flock.

Skinny Pete's expression contorted. "So… I must still ascend to that hazardous position."

"Yes," Ethan affirmed. "But this time, it will succeed."

As they kept pace with the flock from a secure distance, Ethan continued to consume crystal cores, allowing his mental energy reserves to replenish.

The Flamebirds did not deviate from their course. With their leader wounded, their primary concern was reaching safety—not pursuing their attackers.

Ten minutes later, Ethan's gaze intensified.

"Advance."

The instant the command was issued, the poleaxe surged forward—accelerating with ferocious intensity until the wind howled past the blade.

They intercepted the flock with a swift assault.

"SKREEE—!"

The Flamebirds whirled around, emitting furious shrieks.

Ethan disregarded their commotion and directed his trajectory straight towards the leader.

The leader was now distinctly identifiable—two Tier 17 Flamebirds were physically carrying it by its sides as it flew, and the air surrounding this cluster was significantly more congested.

The moment the flock perceived Ethan mounting another assault on their chief, they descended into absolute frenzy.

They disdained the use of their abilities.

They simply converged—a tempest of wings, claws, and bodies, forming a living barricade descending from the heavens to impede their progress.

Ethan withdrew two metallic rods from his spatial ring and began to strike left and right, carving a path through sheer, unadulterated force.

Behind him, Henry and Skinny Pete provided crucial support in any way they could—deploying shields, maintaining advantageous positioning, and clinging to the poleaxe as the onslaught attempted to dislodge them.

An increasing number of Flamebirds hurled themselves into their path, acting with suicidal abandon to impede their advance. Meanwhile, the two birds bearing the leader bolted, retreating with maximum possible velocity.

"Damn, you are shrewd," Ethan spat, then clenched his teeth, channeling even greater velocity into the poleaxe.

Their defensive shields could no longer withstand the onslaught. They shattered with a speed that surpassed Henry's ability to reapply them.

Within moments, all three of them were sustaining direct hits—blood dispersed in the wind, strips of flesh torn away.

Those talons were formidable. Even at their current level, a single well-aimed slash inflicted grievous wounds.

Nevertheless, Ethan relentlessly propelled them forward.

The leader drew nearer and nearer.

And then—

They reached the critical distance Ethan had been anticipating.

"Absolute Stasis!"

Ethan activated the technique once more.

The world froze in place.

In the subsequent instant, he teleported to the Flamebird leader's immediate vicinity, ensnared its throat with his hand, and violently wrenched it free—tearing it away from the very talons of the two Tier 17 Flamebirds that had been supporting it.

He then placed a foot upon one of the supporting Flamebirds and launched himself backward with immense force.

His body streaked away like a projectile—propelled directly towards the poleaxe.

The precise moment his boots made contact, the temporal stasis concluded.

"SKREEE!"

The two Flamebirds that had been supporting their leader emitted anguished cries upon discovering their talons were now empty.

Every eye within the expanse of Flamebirds instantly fixed upon Ethan's contingent. Witnessing their leader once more ensnared by Ethan's grasp ignited an explosive fury within the entire swarm, prompting an even more ferocious assault than before.

"Skinny Pete—now!" Ethan tightened his hold, thrusting the captured leader's head directly into Pete's operational range. Swift as thought, Pete seized the opportune moment. He delivered a sharp slap, jolting the leader from its unconsciousness, and immediately unleashed his Beast Control ability.

Simultaneously, Ethan and Henry braced themselves, their movements a blur as they parried and deflected the incoming Flamebirds, creating a crucial window for Pete's efforts.

Pete persisted. His shoulders, initially tense, gradually relaxed. The task was accomplished.

"Make them cease their attack!" Skinny Pete commanded.

The Flamebird leader, appearing dazed and barely comprehending the situation, nevertheless responded to the directive with a piercing cry.

"SKREE!"

The effect was immediate and profound. The attacking flock abruptly halted their dive, their wings beating in a disoriented rhythm as they hovered, their gaze fixed upon their leader in evident confusion as to why the attack had been aborted.

"Henry," Ethan called out urgently. "Heal it."

"Understood."

Henry promptly cast a healing spell, mending the leader's injuries. All around them, the other Flamebirds continued to vocalize their unrest towards their leader—a cacophony of anger, doubt, and frantic questioning.

Now able to breathe and think clearly, the leader began to issue a series of sharp, commanding screeches. The sounds resonated with an undeniable authority, conveying a palpable sense of a heated dispute.

The flock's response was far from uniform. Some displayed outright fury, others reluctance, and a few still seemed poised to charge forward impulsively.

Ethan could discern the underlying tension without needing a translation: the leader was attempting to assert Skinny Pete's command over the flock, a directive that clearly met with significant resistance from many.

These were not simple, low-tier creatures. The majority of them were ranked Tier 16 or Tier 17, possessing considerable intelligence. Furthermore, unlike the white-furred apes whose disposition towards Ethan's group was already neutral or positive, these Flamebirds had just endured a brutal confrontation. Expecting them to submit willingly in the immediate aftermath was an unrealistic hope.

Ethan released his grip on the leader and signaled for Henry and Pete to fall back. "We need to give them some space."

This was no longer their direct concern. The issue now revolved around leadership and the established pecking order within the flock—a matter that only the Flamebird leader could definitively resolve, provided its authority was absolute.

And if it wasn't?

Then so be it.

In the worst-case scenario, Skinny Pete would command a portion as mounts, while Ethan would harvest the remaining tens of thousands for their valuable high-tier crystal cores. Regardless of the outcome, they were assured of victory.

They ascended to a nearby mountain peak. Henry immediately commenced tending to the cuts and gashes inflicted upon the three of them during the earlier engagement. They had certainly endured their share of damage amidst the swarm, nothing life-threatening, but a multitude of unpleasant claw marks.

Ethan cast his gaze towards the sky, then shifted his attention to Skinny Pete. "Do you believe it will succeed?"

Pete nodded, attuning himself to the mental transmissions. "It assures me it can manage. It claims absolute authority within the flock, stating only a need for a brief period to establish control."

Ethan exhaled slowly. "Excellent."

As it turned out, Pete's assessment was accurate.

Less than ten minutes elapsed before the Flamebird leader reappeared, accompanied by a vast formation of its kind in its wake. Upon reaching an altitude of approximately three hundred feet above them, the leader inclined its head towards Skinny Pete.

In sequence, the other Flamebirds followed suit, lowering their heads in a gesture of submission. Ethan noted that some among them clearly harbored displeasure regarding the situation.

Yet, they bowed nonetheless. Perhaps this demonstrated the fundamental difference between mutated beasts and sentient humanoids—once the pack's decision was made, it was final.

A collective smile spread across Ethan, Henry, and Skinny Pete's faces.

The process had been arduous and messy, but the outcome was undeniably perfect. Despite the significant number they had already eliminated, over thirty thousand Flamebirds remained.

They had already witnessed firsthand the formidable capabilities of these creatures—potent at both close and long range, possessing devastating area-of-effect abilities. Crucially, even the weakest among them was still a Tier 15 entity.

If this entire flock were to be transported from the Void Realm to Earth, they would undoubtedly overwhelm virtually any opposition with ease. With this formidable force at their disposal, the conquest of the Yamato Empire would likely be a matter of mere minutes.

Ethan gestured in the direction where they had left the rest of their group. "Let's go find Chris and the others."

He grinned, still somewhat incredulous at their immense fortune. "Regardless of any other gains—we truly struck it rich with this flock. We're leaving this place incredibly well-equipped."