Apocalypse: King of Zombies Chapter 1328: Crossing the Gap

Ethan instantaneously removed himself from the grasp, escaping the immediate danger. With his telekinesis, he summoned a longsword beneath his feet, transforming it into a makeshift flying board that propelled him swiftly away from the area.

The destructive shockwaves generated by Dopey's battle were far too hazardous. Ethan decided it was best to relocate their duel to a less volatile environment.

Slate’s grab missed its target, and he erupted from the ground in a fit of rage. His gaze fixed on Ethan, he launched himself in pursuit.

While Ethan’s telekinetic flight was impressive, Slate’s ability to warp the terrain, effectively compressing the distance by slicing through space, allowed him to close the gap even more rapidly.

Before long, Slate’s menacing shadow loomed directly behind Ethan.

A field of crushing gravity descended upon Ethan's body.

His entire being felt heavy, sinking downwards.

He plummeted like a stone towards the earth.

Simultaneously, a barrage of meteors rained down from the sky, while razor-sharp stone spikes erupted from the ground below, transforming the surroundings into a deadly kill zone.

"So, you’re going straight for the kill," Ethan grunted, a muscle twitching in his eyelid.

Without a moment's hesitation, he initiated a teleportation.

He vanished in the blink of an eye.

"Blast it," he muttered, reappearing a significant distance away. "I was trying to conserve my mental energy."

Engaging in long-range teleportation consumed a substantial amount of mental power, far more than simply maintaining telekinetic flight. Ethan had intended to wear Slate down, forcing him to expend his stamina.

Evidently, that plan was not coming to fruition.

He was fortunate that teleportation was instantaneous; otherwise, he would have found himself in dire straits.

One pursued, while the other fled.

They continued to move further and further away from the primary conflict.

Then, abruptly, Ethan halted his mid-air momentum.

Slate surged up behind him, his eyes glinting coldly. "What, have you finally realized escape is impossible? Had enough running?"

"Fool," Ethan replied impassively.

He activated Absolute Stasis.

The entire world around them abruptly froze.

In the same instant, Ethan teleported, appearing directly beside Slate, and brought his poleaxe crashing down with all his might.

"Annihilation Strike!"

A burst of black light pulsed along the weapon, resembling a tear in the fabric of reality.

The poleaxe collided with Slate’s head.

"BOOM—!"

The earth itself seemed to explode. A crater, several meters deep, was blasted open, and Slate’s body was driven into the very bottom like a nail.

"Aaaargh—!"

A raw, hysterical shriek pierced the air.

Within the crater, Slate’s head was a mangled ruin of blood and crushed tissue. He writhed on the ground, bellowing like a brutally wounded animal.

Ethan’s eyes widened in disbelief.

"He’s… still alive?"

That single strike had depleted nearly ninety percent of his remaining mental energy—an Annihilation Strike amplified to almost eight times his normal power.

Yet, it had not been enough to finish him instantly.

Ethan clicked his tongue, forcing himself to maintain composure.

"Indeed... the difference is still too significant."

At higher cultivation Tiers, the disparity between each level was not akin to simple early-game progression. Each advancement was a monumental leap, like scaling a sheer wall.

Ethan had previously vanquished Infernals while being two Tiers below them. Now, having significantly enhanced his power and vastly increased his mental energy reserves, he still couldn't eliminate Slate in a single blow.

However, it logically followed.

Ethan was merely Tier 22 at this point.

Slate stood at the peak of Tier 25.

A three-Tier gap separated them.

More critically, Ethan was in Stage B, while Slate had already advanced into Stage A. This was a chasm that could not be overcome with brute force alone.

Slate violently erupted from the crater in an explosion of dirt and rock. A stone spear materialized in his hand, and he thrust it directly at Ethan, his eyes burning with homicidal fury.

Ethan executed another teleportation, narrowly evading the attack.

Following that devastating blow, his mental energy was too depleted for him to engage in close-quarters combat. He needed to regroup.

"I will end you!" Slate roared from behind, his voice strained with rage.

Nearly being killed by a mere human several Tiers below him was an unbearable humiliation. It was a shame that burned with greater intensity than physical pain.

He desperately sought to cleanse himself in blood.

However, even at his full strength, Slate had been unable to capture Ethan.

Now, he was wounded—gravely wounded.

And he had severely underestimated the extent of his injuries.

Ethan’s powerful strike had not been fatal, but it had landed directly on his head. His skull was fractured, and blood streamed down his face uncontrollably.

As he continued his pursuit, his vision began to blur, and his sense of balance faltered.

His limbs became unresponsive, no longer obeying his commands.

After a few more minutes of stumbling and wavering pursuit, Slate’s momentum finally gave out.

His knees buckled, giving way beneath him.

He collapsed face-first into the dirt, his body falling still.

"Phew..."

In the distance, Ethan finally exhaled the breath he had been holding and dropped to the ground, his legs unable to support him any longer.

The Annihilation Strike had consumed an extraordinary amount of his mental energy. Subsequently, he had expended the remaining reserves through continuous teleportation for an extended period.

Had he not been consuming Mindfruit and bolstering his mental energy reserves, he would have reached his limit much earlier.

Frankly, if his mental energy hadn't been so significantly boosted, he never would have dared to confront a formidable opponent at peak Tier 25 in the first place.

Ethan glanced at Slate’s lifeless form sprawled on the ground and a smile touched his lips.

He had actually succeeded.

He had eliminated an enemy at the Stage A level.

The next time he encountered an opponent of Stage A, he would not be stepping into the battle completely unprepared.

The remaining Stoneborn, back at the central engagement, began to look alarmingly pale. Their control techniques could only marginally impede Dopey, and the strain on them was immense. Any lapse in their concentration, however brief, would allow Dopey to break free instantly. They were in a dire, desperate state. Their only hope was that Slate would swiftly finish off the human. However, fate seemed to take a cruel turn. A figure streaked through the air, landing with both feet on daggers guided by telekinesis, used as makeshift skates. This individual was carrying someone. As the newcomer approached, the Stoneborn instantly recognized him. He was the one who possessed the soulless thrall. And what was dangling from his grasp? It was Slate. Even with Slate’s head crushed beyond recognition and his face obscured by blood, they knew. His build, his aura, his equipment – everything confirmed it. "How is this possible?!" Their eyes widened in disbelief, their voices cracking. "No—impossible! Slate cannot be slain by a mere Tier 22 human!" Their minds struggled to reconcile what they were witnessing. In their perception, Ethan was insignificant, perhaps a troublesome pest, a nimble evader. But capable of killing? Able to defeat Slate? It seemed unthinkable. Slate, though the least powerful among them, was still at peak Tier 25, and Stoneborn physiology was notoriously resilient. They had even doubted Ethan's ability to breach Slate's defenses. Yet, the body Ethan held was undeniably deceased. Utterly lifeless. They could refuse to acknowledge it, but they could not alter the reality. And in that precise moment of their faltering attention— Dopey broke free. He shot towards one of the Stoneborn, his fist already cocked. That Stoneborn, still paralyzed by shock over Slate's demise, didn't even raise a defense before Dopey's strike caved his chest in, creating a gaping hole. He collapsed instantly. "Damn it!" "Flee!" The leader's expression contorted in desperation. He turned and ran. But attempting to escape was already futile. While Stoneborn could manipulate the ground to cover distance, they were no match for Dopey's speed. One powerful individual took a single step, initiating his movement technique— The world hadn't even finished distorting when Dopey's fist slammed into him. He crumpled mid-stride, never to rise again. The rest met similar fates. Some perished before they could even turn to flee. Others managed to put some distance between themselves and Dopey. It made no difference. Dopey pursued them relentlessly, dismantling them one by one. Even Ethan felt a chill watching the brutal display. He had always acknowledged Dopey's speed, confident that his own Teleportation ability rendered him safe from any threat. Now, uncertainty crept in. Unless he engaged in long-distance jumps, short-range Teleportations would not be enough to evade Dopey's pursuit; the creature could stick right to him. Even the swift creatures of the Void Realm couldn't match Dopey's pace. This only emphasized the truly terrifying nature of Dopey's speed. In a short while, only the Stoneborn leader remained... and he had already vanished into the distance. Ethan remained unconcerned. With the aid of satellite tracking, the fugitive stood no chance of escape. Furthermore, Ethan had intentionally left Dopey for last. It was time to find Dopey a worthy companion. He had possessed a secret method for creating soulless thralls for a considerable period, yet had never employed it, deeming no one he had vanquished suitable. This one? This one would be perfect.