Apocalypse: King of Zombies Chapter 1441: Enjoy the Show

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Previously on Apocalypse: King of Zombies...
Ethan and his team helped Heartland City create their own Stage S soulless thralls before departing for Goldcrest City. Upon arrival, they found Goldcrest City embroiled in a massive battle between the Stormkin and an alliance of Frostborn and Rimekin. As the fight raged, Ethan's group arrived amidst the chaos, ready to assess the situation.

"Ethan... what do we do?" Damien asked in a low voice.

"What do we do?" Ethan grinned. "Watch the show. What else?"

Between the three races, there were over thirty thousand of them. If Ethan jumped in rashly and they turned on Fallen Star City together, things would get real awkward, real fast.

So the best move was simple: let them fight.

Wait until they’d chewed each other bloody—then step in.

Besides, these Void Realm races didn’t take humans seriously at all. When the moment came, Fallen Star City could give them a surprise they’d never forget.

"Alright." Damien nodded, then led the people of Goldcrest City back to the rear to keep watching.

But the mood had completely changed.

A few minutes ago, everyone had been shaking, terrified the winners would vent their anger on the humans once the fighting ended.

Now?

Now it felt like a spectator match.

People were even yelling encouragement from the sidelines.

With Fallen Star City here, they finally had backbone.

Clearford City compound and Heartland City compound had been saved—twice now, proof carved into reality. Goldcrest City believed in Fallen Star City the way drowning people believed in air. No matter how strong the enemy looked, they were convinced these Void Realm monsters would end up crushed under Fallen Star’s boot, just like the ones before.

Out on the field, the three races had clearly fought themselves into a frenzy. The battle turned savage. Bodies kept dropping, and the ground was already stained dark red.

At some point, Ethan’s group had each dragged over a chair and sat down like they were at a movie.

Popcorn in hand, they watched and commented like it was a livestream.

"I’ll say this much," Chris said, voice heavy. "Lightning-type abilities are disgusting. They’re outnumbered this badly and they’re still beating the hell out of them."

"Yeah." Ethan nodded. "Among elemental abilities, lightning damage is basically pure murder."

"Ice-type is strong too, okay?" Mia snapped, refusing to give an inch. "Control, damage, defense—everything. If this keeps going, the Stormkin are definitely the ones who lose."

"Sure," Ethan said. "Ice control is nasty. Otherwise they couldn’t even hold a line against Stormkin."

"I don’t know about strong," Big Mike said with a sleazy grin, eyes drifting toward the Frostborn and Rimekin side, "but I do know those two races have some fine-looking girls."

"..."

"You’re gonna die because of a woman someday," Chris said, rolling his eyes.

"No chance." Big Mike puffed up, completely serious. "I just like looking. Doesn’t stop me from throwing hands. Actually—if she’s prettier, I hit harder."

"..."

Ethan glanced at Damien. "When the Frostborn were occupying Goldcrest City... they weren’t as brutal as the Stormkin, right?"

"Not brutal," Damien said, his expression dark. "But Frostborn women are insanely arrogant. If any of our people looked at them a second too long, they’d gouge out their eyes. Plenty were tortured to death."

"Got it." Ethan nodded once. "So they’re all trash."

The fight dragged on for over an hour.

By then, casualties were horrific.

The Stormkin had started with more than ten thousand. Now they were down to a little over three thousand.

The Frostborn and Rimekin combined had started with over twenty thousand. Now they were down to a little over nine thousand.

Nobody came out of that massacre looking like a winner.

But at this stage, numbers finally started to tell.

What had started as two-on-one had turned into something worse—three-on-one as the battlefield thinned and the Stormkin line collapsed inward.

The Stormkin’s position became visibly desperate.

Tharok’s face turned ugly. He clenched his jaw, then lightning flashed around him as he abruptly disengaged.

He shouted toward his remaining people.

"Fall back—into the compound!"

The surviving three thousand Stormkin immediately began retreating.

"Hmph. Running now?" Isolde scoffed, and led her people straight into pursuit.

Tharok’s expression darkened even further as he pulled his troops back—straight toward the crowd of humans sitting there eating popcorn.

A pulse of fury rolled off him.

"Damn it!" Tharok roared. "You people actually have the nerve to sit here and watch?! Get up! All of you—go block those girls!"

He hadn’t planned to use the humans at all.

But now he didn’t have a choice.

And seeing them so relaxed—especially the ones literally sitting in chairs with popcorn—made his anger spike so hard it almost cracked into madness.

But in response to his roaring, the humans didn’t move at all.

They just sat there, faces full of schadenfreude, watching the Stormkin stumble in retreat like it was the funniest thing they’d seen all year.

"Damn it—looking for death!" Tharok was already furious, and that only sent him over the edge. He flung out a hand, and a bolt of lightning split the air straight toward the crowd.

Ethan reacted instantly, releasing Dopey to block it.

Peak Tier 35. Lightning-type. Ethan wasn’t about to test his own body against that.

The lightning slammed into Dopey, throwing off arcs of crackling blue-white light—

And did absolutely nothing.

The shocking sight made the fleeing Stormkin warriors stop in their tracks, eyes wide as they stared at Dopey like they couldn’t believe what they were seeing.

"When did humans get a soulless thrall this strong?" Tharok’s brows knotted hard.

They’d been here the whole time, tormenting humans every day. If the humans had possessed something like this, they would’ve brought it out long ago.

So why now?

Had they been waiting—waiting until the Stormkin were battered and bleeding, then planning to bite back?

Tharok’s expression turned ugly.

"Hmph. You think one soulless thrall is enough to oppose us?" he sneered. "How naive. Even if my Stormkin have taken losses, we’re still not a bunch of slaves you can rebel against."

He raised his voice, thunderous with threat.

"All of you—go block those women. Now. Or I’ll wipe you out!"

"Wipe us out?" Ethan let out a cold laugh.

His figure vanished.

In the next instant, he reappeared right in front of Tharok—close enough to smell the ozone—his poleaxe already wrapped in a deep black glow as it came down, mercilessly, for Tharok’s head.

Tharok’s face flashed with surprise.

He hadn’t expected a hidden powerhouse among the humans... and one with spatial-type abilities at that.

But it was only surprise.

Not fear.

Let alone panic.

Even if Ethan were Tier 35, Tharok wouldn’t have cared. As a lightning-type, his combat power was infamous—peerless at the same tier.

"Courting death!" Tharok snorted.

Lightning flooded his hand, dense and violent, and he chopped it toward Ethan like a blade.

And then—

Everything froze.

The world went dead still.

The lightning in Tharok’s hand halted mid-spark, locked in place as if time itself had been grabbed by the throat.

Ethan’s poleaxe finished its arc.

It smashed into Tharok’s skull.

Tharok’s body launched backward, blasted off his feet like a rag doll, and crashed hard into the ground.

A heartbeat later, the world snapped back to life.

Sound returned.

Motion returned.

And Tharok was sprawled there in the dirt, face smeared with blood, as if he’d been struck down by a god he never saw coming.

Everyone went blank.

Not just the Stormkin.

Even the Frostborn and Rimekin who’d been chasing from behind slowed to a stop, staring in disbelief.

They knew exactly how strong Tharok was. Two Tier 35 elders had fought him for over an hour and still couldn’t put him down.

And now a human had flattened him in a single exchange.

How could anyone be stunned?

The Frostborn and Rimekin forces held position, eyes sharp with suspicion as they locked onto Ethan.

"Since when do humans have someone like that?"

"Elder Tharok!"

The Stormkin elites snapped out of it a moment later. They rushed to Tharok’s side, crouching around him defensively.

"Pff—"

Tharok spat out a mouthful of blood and forced himself upright, trembling as he stood.

His eyes were wide, fixed on Ethan like he was staring at something unnatural.

"You—who are you!?" Tharok’s voice came out hoarse. "There can’t be a human this strong in this city!"