Apocalypse: King of Zombies Chapter 1326: Now It’s a Real Fight

Each major compound experienced a constant influx of high-tier crystal cores daily, leading to a steady increase in their overall might.

However, the most formidable and relentless was undoubtedly the Fallen Star Guard.

With twenty thousand members supported by over thirty thousand Flamebirds, the Fallen Star Guard essentially became the reapers of the apocalypse, pillaging wherever they went. No matter the target, be it zombies or mutant beasts, everything was reduced to ash, slaughtered, and stripped clean.

In contrast, other compounds adopted a methodical approach, seeking out isolated targets, smaller groups, and weaker prey.

The Fallen Star Guard, however, operated with a completely opposite strategy.

Their focus was directly on the largest congregations of threats.

Although the zombies had grown stronger, they were no match for a force composed entirely of individuals at least at Stage B, especially with the Flamebirds dominating the skies. The zombie hordes posed no significant challenge.

Wave after wave of zombies fell, transforming into crystal cores, which were then gathered by the Fallen Star Guard members with an almost casual efficiency, akin to picking up dropped loot.

Each guard was equipped with an oversized mountaineering backpack, filled with a singular purpose: crystal cores.

They departed in the morning and returned by nightfall, with every single member bringing back a pack overflowing to its absolute limit.

News of their success spread like wildfire.

Upon hearing the reports, the management of other compounds were consumed by intense envy, their faces almost turning green with frustration.

While most compounds would celebrate acquiring a few hundred high-tier crystal cores in a day, the Fallen Star Guard’s daily haul was astronomical.

Twenty thousand individuals—even if each backpack contained a mere hundred cores—amounted to two million cores daily. The sheer scale of this number was enough to breed deep resentment in anyone who heard it.

Furthermore, Fallen Star City was strategically located within the Golden Delta, the most densely populated zone in the Federation, boasting a pre-apocalypse population exceeding one hundred million.

This exceptional density translated into an inexhaustible supply of zombies, ensuring the Fallen Star Guard could continue their relentless harvesting indefinitely.

All these crystal cores were channeled directly into the possession of Miles.

Fortunately, his pocket-dimension space had expanded sufficiently; otherwise, accommodating such an immense quantity would have been impossible.

Bolstered by this colossal stockpile of high-tier crystal cores, Miles finally commenced the systematic establishment of a project he had long envisioned:

The Fallen Star Corps.

When they initially established the compound, their objective was straightforward: to create a sanctuary. A safe haven where families could reside and find peace, allowing its inhabitants to sleep soundly at night.

Beyond mere protection, the goal was to cultivate a personal power base. In times of crisis, having reliable allies—true support, not just hollow promises—was paramount.

Now, the Fallen Star Guard had reached a significant level of maturity and combat readiness. They were capable of accompanying their captain on expeditions across the globe.

This advancement allowed Miles to embark on the creation of a secondary fighting force.

With the Fallen Star Guard frequently deployed on external missions, Fallen Star City could not be left vulnerable. The compound necessitated a defensive power capable of maintaining its security.

Miles's ambitious plan was to train fifty thousand individuals for the Fallen Star Corps.

Their objective wasn't to match the combat prowess of the Fallen Star Guard.

Rather, their strength needed to be sufficient to overwhelm any internal or external opposition.

In the current phase, Miles was completely immersed in the selection process, working tirelessly to the point of exhaustion.

As the second-in-command, the Deputy Commander of Fallen Star City, his influence now resonated powerfully throughout the Atlas Federation. When any compound leader contacted him, the utmost politeness was observed. Even Maxwell accorded him the same level of respect.

This was the very position Miles had strived for throughout his entire life.

He simply hadn't anticipated that it would materialize so completely.

Ultimately, it was Ethan who made this achievement possible.

However, Miles had not squandered the trust Ethan had placed in him.

At that critical juncture, a single declaration from Ethan was all it took—

Not even close.

And for a while, everything kept moving forward in perfect order.

Until the sixth day.

Ethan and the others were in the forest again, cautiously searching for Mindfruit, when Maxwell’s call finally came through.

"Target spotted."

Ethan’s mouth curled into a slow smile.

"Finally decided to come out?"

"Good timing."

Over the past few days, he’d gotten a total of eleven Mindfruits, and his mental energy had risen by around sixty percent.

The later ones helped less and less. By the eleventh fruit, the boost had been only one percent, which told Ethan the truth—he’d basically capped out.

If they found more after this, he’d let Chris and the others take them.

But right now?

The remaining Void Realm monsters mattered more.

And with his strength surging, Ethan honestly wanted a test run.

A chance to see what he could do now.

"Let’s go," he said, eyes bright. "We’re going to deal with them."

"Hell yeah."

They left the forest at speed, mounted up, and flew straight toward the reported location.

Deep in a major mountain range in Karst Valley State, a group of tall figures stumbled out of a dense, primeval jungle—dirty, battered, and pissed off.

"Finally." One of the Stoneborn powerhouses spat to the side. "I’m done with this hellhole."

They hadn’t expected it either.

When they went in, everything was normal. Then the mysterious energy went wild, the mountains transformed into primeval forest, and the plants mutated. Suddenly, the terrain itself became a trap, and they couldn’t get out.

They’d fled into the deepest part of the range to shake off pursuit.

Now just getting back out had nearly killed them.

If they hadn’t been strong, they would’ve died in there.

Even so, it had taken them six full days to fight their way out.

They glanced back at the forest behind them, and the fear in their eyes was plain.

None of them wanted to go in there again.

"Boss," one of them asked, turning to the leader. "What now?"

"We go back first," the leader said. "It’s been long enough. They’ve probably given up searching for us."

His eyes gleamed with excitement as he spoke again.

"And once we’re back, we bring the clan over to this continent. The mysterious energy here is ridiculous. As long as we can plant our feet here, how could the Stoneborn not rise?"

One of the others hesitated. "But if we bring our people out... and those humans come again?"

The leader snorted. "Come? Let them."

"I’m already Tier 30 peak now—one step from Stage S." His voice hardened into something vicious. "As long as you lot coordinate with me, I’m not afraid of that soulless thrall."

"And as for the rest of them?" He bared his teeth. "Stoneborn warriors can slaughter them clean."

The others lit up, confidence surging with their new strength.

"Right. We’re stronger now. What’s there to fear?"

"Move!"

The Stoneborn group broke into a run, heading back the way they’d come.

They weren’t even halfway when several Flamebirds appeared in the distance, cutting across the sky at terrifying speed.

The moment the Stoneborn saw them, their expressions changed.

"It’s them!"

"How do they know we’re here?!"

"No idea. Do they have some way to track us?"

"Damn it—like ghosts," someone snarled. "They just won’t let go."

The leader’s eyes went cold.

"Fine. Then today I’ll meet that soulless thrall again."

He snapped quick orders. "The rest of you, with me. We focus the soulless thrall."

Then he pointed at one of the Stoneborn. "Slate—you go after the human."

Slate’s face fell. "B-Boss... I can’t catch him."

"Then you chase him anyway," the leader said flatly. "You’re stronger now. If you can’t catch him, you wear him down."

His gaze sharpened, voice low and certain.

"The human’s soulless thrall is too strong. The rest of us need to go all-out just to hold it."

Slate swallowed hard. "...Alright."