Apocalypse: King of Zombies Chapter 1480: Ten Cores in the Sky

"Ethan—what did your Innate Ability evolve into this time?" Chris asked.

Ethan’s grin turned a little smug. "Heh. This one’s actually pretty fun. Silencing Gaze."

Everyone leaned in.

"I can lock down their mental energy," Ethan said, tapping his temple. "For a short time, they can’t use skills."

"...They can’t use skills!?" Big Mike’s eyes went wide. "Even someone stronger than you?"

"Yeah." Ethan nodded. "Duration depends on the target’s strength. If they’re stronger than me, I can still silence them—just not for long."

"Holy shit," Sean breathed. "Boss, that’s disgusting."

Ethan waved it off like he wasn’t secretly thrilled. "It’s about time. My Innate Ability rolled so many garbage effects—finally got something worth keeping."

He looked down at his hands, then up again, confidence sharpening in his gaze.

"With everything I’ve got now... even if I run into a Tier 39, I’m not scared."

That wasn’t empty swagger.

When he’d been Tier 32 peak, he’d killed a Tier 35 peak by jumping three whole tiers—but Stage SS was different from Stage S. At this Stage, every single Tier was a cliff. Crossing even one Tier was "genius" territory.

Crossing three?

That was Ethan being Ethan.

"Crazy," Chris said, shaking his head. "Not gonna lie."

Big Mike raised both thumbs. "Boss stays boss."

Sean glanced toward the outside. "So what now?"

Ethan’s smile came back.

"Wait."

He pointed vaguely toward the chaos they’d left behind. "That fight down there is only going to get uglier. Soon, it’ll escalate to a higher level."

His eyes gleamed. "There’s a chance Stage SS-and-above will get involved."

He sat back like he was getting comfortable for a show.

"We just sit here and collect profit when the dust settles."

Garrick laughed. "I like the way you think."

"Then let’s go watch," Big Mike said, already itching to move.

"Yeah," Ethan said. "We’ll spectate."

Meanwhile, the battle in Greyspine Range hadn’t slowed for even a second.

At this point, nobody even cared why it started.

They only saw one thing:

Their people—dropping, one after another—under the claws and fangs of Outland Beasts.

So the races fought harder. Wilder. Like rage could fill the holes being torn open in their lines.

The Outland Beasts were even worse.

From their perspective, these invaders had ignored the agreement, stormed into their land, and slaughtered their kin like livestock.

Did they think the beasts were weak?

Sure, the invaders were stronger overall.

But this was Greyspine Range.

Outland Beast territory.

There were endless reinforcements. Endless bodies. They could grind these "experts" down by sheer blood and time.

And the Shadowroc King had already flown to the Central Region for the Beast Sovereign.

The beasts believed help was coming.

They believed judgment was coming.

And until then?

Nobody was leaving.

The fighting dragged from morning into afternoon.

Both sides bled heavily.

The major races had brought tens of thousands of elites... and by now, they’d lost half of them.

But the Outland Beasts’ losses were far worse.

With three Stage SS on the invaders’ side—and with this force being made up of each race’s core fighters—the beasts were dying at dozens of times the invaders’ rate.

Still, Greyspine Range had numbers.

Even after all that slaughter, the beast tide was still thick enough to blot out the ground.

A Stage SS expert finally snapped, fury boiling over as he hacked another beast apart.

"Damn it! What do you animals even want!?" he roared. "We just came in to find a few humans! Was this really worth fighting like this!?"

It wasn’t just anger.

It was disbelief.

Today, these beasts had gone insane—no negotiation, no warning, just a suicide rush from the first second.

But nobody was listening.

Not the beasts.

Not the races’ fighters either.

Everyone was red-eyed. Everyone was drowning in blood.

And looking at the endless tide still pouring in, the Stage SS expert’s face twisted. Searching for humans in this mess was impossible.

Finally, he gritted his teeth.

"Enough. Pull back. We regroup and discuss this again."

The other two Stage SS nodded, equally grim. Continuing like this was pointless.

They began gathering their forces, trying to disengage—

When the sky darkened.

Far in the distance, more than ten shadows appeared, streaking toward the battlefield at terrifying speed. In just a few blinks, they were already overhead.

The pressure they carried was so heavy that the entire battlefield stuttered.

Both sides instinctively paused and looked up.

Eleven figures hung in the air.

And the moment the Outland Beasts recognized what they were, the range erupted with ecstatic, furious roars.

"Goldenwing Rocs!"

"They’re here!"

"Central Region support!"

A wave of relief and savage joy ran through the beast tide.

"I told you!" beasts howled. "The Beast Sovereign would judge for us!"

Above the battlefield, the golden-winged silhouettes drifted forward—calm, cold, and overwhelmingly strong.

The experts from the major races went pale the instant they recognized what had arrived.

"Stage SS Outland Beasts... ten of them!"

Even the three Stage SS leaders felt their hearts sink.

"This is bad," one of them muttered, voice tight.

The Goldenwing Rocs swept their gaze across the battlefield, and cold killing intent flared in their eyes.

Shadowroc King hadn’t lied.

If anything, reality was worse than his report.

In less than half a day, tens—no, of thousands—of their kin had already been slaughtered. If they’d arrived any later, would Greyspine Range have been carved empty?

The lead Stage SS expert swallowed and forced out a shaky line.

"Maybe... maybe there’s been a misunderstanding. How about we sit down and talk—"

"SKREEE!"

The leading Goldenwing Roc shrieked so hard it rattled bones.

(Talk your damn mouth off!)

Then all ten Stage SS birds dove.

Straight at the major races.

"Misunderstanding! It really is!" the Stage SS expert shouted, backing up as he raised his hands. "We didn’t want to fight—it was the beasts who attacked first!"

But it didn’t matter.

They crossed into Outland Beast territory.

They killed massive numbers of Outland Beasts.

That was the only "truth" that mattered now.

With ten Stage SS Goldenwing Rocs joining the fight, the battlefield flipped instantly.

Race experts began dying in sheets.

Whole clusters vanished under sweeping talons, crushing winds, and razor-sharp feathers that tore through defenses like paper.

Yes, the invaders had three Stage SS.

But three wasn’t ten.

And whether it was raw individual power or brutal coordination, they were getting pushed to the edge—forced into desperate defense, shouting "misunderstanding" like it was a spell that could save their lives.

It wasn’t.

On a distant mountaintop, half-hidden in tall grass, a group of shameless spectators watched with bright, greedy eyes.

Big Mike stared so hard he forgot to blink. "Boss... those birds are really all Stage SS?"

Ethan chuckled. "Isn’t it obvious? Aside from the black one, yeah. All of them."

"Holy shit," Big Mike breathed, eyes huge. "This Beast Sovereign doesn’t play. Ten Stage SS right out the gate? That’s not ’reinforcements.’ That’s a wipeout squad."

Garrick’s grin widened. "Think bigger. I’m telling you—they don’t just want to butcher this army. They probably want to wash the whole Southern Region in blood."

Big Mike snapped his head toward him. "That’s insane."

"Then why send ten Stage SS?" Garrick shot back. "You don’t bring that kind of force to ’send a message.’ You bring it to end a Chapter."

Big Mike licked his lips, practically giddy. "Alright, alright—if they’re playing it like , I’m watching every second."

Sean’s excitement cooled into something more practical. "If they really go down the mountain... do we warn Azure Nereids? Tell them to run?"

"No need," Ethan said. His voice was calm, almost lazy, but his eyes were locked on the battlefield like a predator counting breaths. "If the beasts actually start marching out, Azure Nereids will hear about it fast."

He gestured vaguely. "The ones who get hit first are the territories closest to Greyspine. Azure Nereids are over twelve hundred miles away. Not easy for the fallout to reach them quickly."

"And Southern Region isn’t something you can ’wipe clean’ on a whim," Ethan added. "Other Regions will intervene. Beast Sovereign’s probably testing them—trying to see where the major races really stand."

Big Mike frowned. "So if the big shots send some super-strong negotiators... could they still talk it down?"

Ethan let out a quiet, humorless laugh.

"Maybe."

Then his gaze sharpened.

"But if these ten Stage SS birds get killed too... this stops being a ’talk it down’ situation."

Big Mike’s grin came back, wide and shameless. "Damn, Boss. That’s dirty as hell. I love it."

"Get lost," Ethan said without looking away. "I don’t need you loving anything."

His eyes stayed glued to the fight below.

"I’m after those ten Stage SS crystal cores."