Apocalypse: King of Zombies Chapter 1430: You Don’t Even Qualify

As that voice rang out, figures started pouring out of the dimensional rift, dropping between the Flamekin and the humans.

After the last time, nobody landed like a sack of bricks again. The instant the rift opened, they adjusted midair and touched down clean—steady, controlled.

"Tearing space...?!"

The Flamekin’s faces turned ugly, disbelief flashing through the line.

Only someone above Stage SSS should even to do that.

But in this world... how could a Stage SSS+ powerhouse exist?

The people of Clearford City, meanwhile, just stood there blankly. They didn’t understand what that entrance meant. They only knew one thing:

It looked ridiculously cool.

Then they recognized a few familiar silhouettes.

And the whole crowd shook.

"It’s Fallen Star City!"

"Fallen Star Squad—Fallen Star Squad came to save us!"

"Thank God... we’re saved!"

People started crying on the spot. Not pretty crying, either—ugly, shaking sobs, the kind that came from being crushed too long with nowhere to breathe. Nobody who hadn’t lived through the last ten days could understand what kind of nightmare they’d been trapped in.

General Cross’s body trembled too. The moment he saw those faces clearly, his eyes went wet.

"General Cross! General!" Director Michael grabbed his arm from behind, almost frantic with excitement. "It’s Ethan! Ethan and the others are here!"

"...Yeah." General Cross tried to keep his voice steady, but it still came out rough and shaking. "I see them."

Ethan landed at the very front. His gaze locked onto the scar-faced Flamekin leader immediately.

"You," Ethan said, voice cold enough to frost the air. "You’re the one who wanted to burn them all?"

The scarred man was still staring, startled—eyes flicking over Ethan’s group, searching for the so-called terrifying powerhouse.

After a few quick sweeps, he seemed to confirm there was no Stage SSS monster hiding among them.

Only then did he finally exhale.

he thought, his expression tightening.

And with that comfort, arrogance crawled right back onto his face.

"Putting on a show," he sneered. "You’ve got some strength, sure. But you’re still just filthy humans."

"Filthy humans?" Ethan repeated.

His face went completely cold.

Then he vanished.

One moment he was standing in front of the human crowd.

The next, he was at the scarred man’s side—his poleaxe already swinging down without the slightest restraint.

"Hmph." The scarred man snorted, confidence flaring. "Same Tier 32. You think I’m scared of you?"

His right arm ignited, turning into roaring flame as he punched up to meet the blow.

THUD—!

A deep, heavy impact shook the air.

The flames scattered like ripped cloth.

The scarred man’s entire arm detonated into a mist of blood.

His body was launched backward, sent flying like he’d been hit by a truck.

Ethan flashed again.

He appeared above the scarred man midair, then drove his foot down hard.

BOOM!

The scarred man was stomped straight out of the sky and smashed into the ground. He coughed up blood on impact, the sound wet and broken.

Ethan’s boot stayed planted on his chest.

He looked down at him like he was looking at trash.

"Same Tier 32?" Ethan said quietly. "You don’t even qualify to fight me."

"Pff—!" The scarred man spat blood again, eyes wide, staring up in pure disbelief. "How... how can you be... this strong...?"

The exchange had happened too fast.

By the time anyone around them properly reacted, it was already over.

Staring at the scarred Flamekin leader pinned to the earth like a dying dog, every face—human and Flamekin alike—turned stiff with shock.

The people of Clearford City all had the same unreal, floaty feeling—as if this had to be a dream. Some of them even pinched their own thighs in secret just to make sure they weren’t hallucinating.

That scar-faced man was a living nightmare to them. The number of humans who’d died by his hand was beyond counting. Just seeing him was enough to make people’s stomachs twist with fear.

And yet Ethan had flattened him in a single exchange.

"Ethan!"

"That’s Ethan from Fallen Star City!"

"Kill him! Kill that bastard!"

"Make the Flamekin pay!"

The crowd exploded into frantic shouting, like all the fear and hatred they’d been forced to swallow for days had finally found an outlet.

General Cross and the other compound leaders just stared, stunned.

They still remembered the young man who’d first come to Clearford City back then. Ethan had seemed talented, sure—but still green, still rough around the edges.

Now... they couldn’t even understand what they were looking at.

Ethan had taken down the scar-faced captain in an instant.

"Captain!"

"Let go of our captain, or all of you die!"

Only then did the Flamekin snap out of it. Seeing their leader crushed under Ethan’s boot, their faces warped with fury.

"Yeah—let me go!" the scar-faced man snarled, eyes wild. "You filthy slave—do you kill me? If you kill me, the Flamekin Elder Council will slaughter every last human in this world!"

He sounded almost hysterical, like he was trying to claw back his dignity with threats.

Ethan didn’t even blink.

His poleaxe turned into a blur.

SHHK—!

A head flew.

The scarred face was still frozen in disbelief and rage, eyes wide as if his brain hadn’t caught up yet.

THUD.

It hit the ground and rolled several times.

Silence slammed down over the scene.

Nobody had expected Ethan to be that decisive—no hesitation, no bargaining, no worrying about consequences. Just .

The Flamekin’s faces went ugly, panic and rage mixing together. "You killed our captain! You’re finished! All the humans here are finished!"

Ethan didn’t waste a single word on them. His voice was ice.

"Kill them. All of them."

"Yes!"

The moment the order fell, Chris and the others—along with the three hundred-plus Awakened of the second echelon—moved at once. Skills erupted like a storm: blades of light, chains of shadow, crushing gravity, freezing bursts, explosive impact waves.

They slammed into the Flamekin ranks.

"Looking for death!" the Flamekin roared, charging back in fury.

Long-term slavery had warped their instincts. They they were above humans by nature. They didn’t even take the humans seriously.

But the instant the fight properly started, their expressions changed.

Because they were getting ripped apart.

Most of the Flamekin here were between Tier 24 and Tier 29, with the majority below Tier 27.

Meanwhile, Fallen Star Squad’s second echelon?

Every single one of them was Tier 27—and they were all Awakened, with combat power that could stand toe-to-toe with Tier 28 Void Realm creatures.

And then there were Chris and the others—Tier 29 monsters—cutting through the front line like it didn’t exist.

This Flamekin group was only a little over a thousand strong—probably just one detachment.

Under Fallen Star City’s assault, they fell one after another, collapsing into blood-soaked streets with unwilling screams.

The Clearford City crowd watched, dumbstruck.

Tears ran down faces without anyone even noticing.

"Mom! Dad! Look!" someone cried, voice breaking. "They’re finally paying for what they did!"

"Brother... we won," another survivor choked out, laughing and sobbing at the same time. "We finally won. I just wish you were still here."

General Cross lifted his head, fighting to keep the tears from falling.

He’d waited too long for this moment.

So long that even if someone told him to die right now, he could do it with peace in his heart.

And then—

A mass of silhouettes appeared in the distance, rushing toward them fast.

At the same time, a furious shout rolled across the ruined streets like thunder.

"How dare you! You killed my Flamekin—stop right now, or I’ll have every human here buried with you!"