Apocalypse: King of Zombies Chapter 1449: Some Debts Don’t Heal

Elder Viren slowly pushed himself up off the ground.

The vines had absorbed most of the impact, so his injury wasn’t as serious as it looked.

He lifted a hand. A wash of green light settled over his head, and the wound began knitting back together at a visible speed.

Ethan wasn’t surprised.

A Nature-type who could heal was normal. What caught him off guard was just how strong Viren’s healing was.

No wonder they had managed to hold the Atlas City compound with that kind of overall strength.

It wasn’t that the Verdants were weak. Compared to the other Void Realm races Ethan had run into, though, they a step down.

Just looking at peak combat power alone—most of the other groups had a peak Tier 35.

This guy was only early Tier 35.

And it wasn’t just the tier.

Fire-type, lightning-type, even Light-type abilities all had brutal combat output. Those races could lock down a human compound through raw pressure.

Nature-type wasn’t like that.

It didn’t hit as hard as fire, lightning, or light.

Its defense wasn’t as absolute as earth.

Its control wasn’t as oppressive as ice.

Yet the Verdants still held the Atlas City compound anyway.

Because they could heal.

Healing was basically infinite retries. As long as the gap in strength wasn’t overwhelming, it was damn near impossible to truly lose.

Ethan understood that better than anyone.

A big reason the Fallen Star Squad had made it this far was because they’d had Henry from the very start—a healer strong enough to drag people back from the edge.

Under Henry’s healing, they dared to gamble their lives. They fought like lunatics because they that as long as they didn’t die on the spot, Henry could pull them back.

If you really had to rank contributions, aside from Ethan himself...

Henry was the biggest reason the squad was still standing.

No one could even count how many times he’d yanked them out of the Reaper’s hands.

So yeah—healing mattered.

A race like the Verdants, built around healing, absolutely deserved their place among the Void Realm species.

A moment later, the wound on Viren’s head had closed completely, not even a scar left behind.

He stared at Ethan, eyes locked, his face filled with disbelief.

"Humans really are a favored race," Viren said slowly. "One person, and you can hold both time and spatial-type abilities..."

His voice dropped, turning sharp.

"But time-type abilities consume an absurd amount. That strike just now was far beyond what a Tier 32 should be able to output."

He spread his hands slightly, as if he’d already seen through everything.

"How many times can you use an attack like that?"

A cruel smile tugged at his mouth.

"I have healing. You can’t do anything to me."

"You..." His gaze swept over the humans around Ethan. "You’ll all feed the Verdants’ future!"

"Yeah?" Ethan smiled.

"I’ll admit it. Healing is annoying."

He tilted his head, like he was humoring Viren for the moment.

"But... who told you I’m the only high-tier combatant here?"

As soon as Ethan finished speaking, he flicked his hand.

A swarm of thralls spilled out in an instant—one after another, filling the space behind him like a flood.

Viren’s pupils tightened.

Ethan didn’t even look back. He just called out, calm as ever.

"Henry. Send Tharok in. Let’s see whether that guy’s healing is stronger..."

"...or Tharok’s damage is."

"Got it." Henry nodded.

The next second, he issued a crisp command.

Tharok—now a soulless thrall—lunged straight for Viren, killing intent surging as he charged.

At the same time, several high-ranking Verdants stepped forward on instinct.

They could feel pressure rolling off Tharok’s body, heavy enough to make their skin prickle. They moved without even thinking, lining up to fight alongside their elder.

But the moment they stepped out—

The other thralls moved too.

They shot forward like unleashed beasts, slamming into the Verdants’ formation.

The Verdant elites had thought the thralls felt "dangerous," maybe just higher-than-average.

Only when they actually clashed did they realize the truth.

They weren’t just strong.

They were monsters.

"Boom—boom—BOOM!"

A storm of horrifying skills came crashing down.

The high-ranking Verdants didn’t even get the chance to fight back properly.

They were smashed flat, one after another, driven into the ground like nails.

The remaining Verdants all stared, eyes wide, faces drained of color.

For the first time since they’d arrived in Atlas City...

Real fear hit them.

"Peak Tier 35... soulless thralls?!" Viren’s face twisted with sheer disbelief.

From that brief exchange just now, he’d felt several auras—multiple peak Tier 35s.

For the first time, real panic crawled up his spine.

But before he could even process it, Tharok was already on him, raising a hand and dropping a bolt of lightning that looked like it could split the world.

"Lightning-type ability!" Viren’s expression changed. In a flash, countless vines erupted around him, wrapping him so tight he looked sealed inside a living cocoon.

The lightning slammed into the vines and blew them apart instantly. The leftover force punched straight through and tore into Viren’s body, making him cough blood on the spot.

Viren hurriedly forced healing light over his wounds, green light flickering over his chest and throat, while more vines lashed out and whipped toward Tharok, trying to bind him.

A few thinner vines slipped through the lightning and stabbed into Tharok’s body, trying to drain his vitality.

Then Viren’s expression changed.

There was nothing to take.

No pulse. No blood. No life force.

Only a soulless shell wrapped in lightning.

The vines blackened from the inside out and crumbled into ash.

Then Tharok lifted his hand again.

Another doomsday bolt came down on Viren’s head.

Behind Viren, a towering tree exploded up from the ground, trunk thick as a wall, branches spreading into a dense canopy—clearly meant to absorb the strike.

It didn’t matter.

Under that annihilating lightning, the tree vanished into dust.

And the leftover lightning punched into Viren again.

Blood sprayed from Viren’s mouth.

His body spasmed as the lightning tore through him, burning and ripping from the inside out. His eyes went wide, like he couldn’t believe pain could feel this brutal.

Tharok charged again.

Viren finally cracked. He shouted hoarsely, "Stop! I surrender!"

It did nothing.

Tharok didn’t slow by even half a beat. His fist—wrapped in dense lightning—was already smashing toward Viren’s face.

Viren gritted his teeth and raised an arm, forcing vines to coil around it layer after layer, then clenched his fist and met the blow head-on.

A dull impact rang out.

The vines on Viren’s arm exploded apart, and you could hear bone crack. His entire body was sent flying like a rag doll.

Early Tier 35 couldn’t stand up to a peak Tier 35—especially not one with lightning-type power, built for sheer violence.

Tharok pressed the advantage without mercy.

A flash of electricity.

He reappeared right next to Viren, fist already cocked back, lightning roaring around his knuckles as he drove it in again.

Viren had barely managed to cast another heal before he was launched across the plaza a second time.

At this point, Tharok looked like a war god.

He hit Viren so relentlessly that the elder couldn’t even find room to fight back, and the spectacle had the humans watching with their blood boiling.

No one here would’ve guessed that this same "war god" had once been tossed around like a toy by Dopey.

"That guy’s damage is insane," Chris muttered, watching.

"Yeah." Ethan nodded, eyes steady. "It’s not an exaggeration. At the same tier, he’s basically unbeatable."

Among all the soulless thralls, Ethan figured only Dopey could truly suppress Tharok. The rest wouldn’t be able to hold him down.

Under the relentless barrage, Viren was beaten into something hard to look at.

And yet... he really did have something to him.

Even battered to hell, he kept crawling back up, healing again and again, refusing to stay down.

"Stop...!" Viren’s voice finally broke into begging. "I was wrong! I swear I’ll never move against humans again. Please... spare me!"

"Spare you?" Maxwell’s voice suddenly snapped like a whip.

He stepped forward, eyes bloodshot, staring at Viren as if he wanted to carve the answer into his bones.

"Then who’s going to answer for the countless Atlas Federation citizens you murdered?"

"When your vines wrapped around them and drained them dry—did you ever think about sparing them?"

His throat worked as he forced the words out, each one heavier than the last.

"They didn’t do a damn thing to deserve any of this."

Maxwell’s voice rose, shaking with rage.

"The crimes your Verdants committed in Atlas City compound can only be repaid with blood!"

"Yes!"

"Blood for blood!"

The humans around them roared as one, the sound swelling and crashing upward like it could tear open the sky.