Apocalypse: King of Zombies Chapter 1638: You Like Me, Don’t You?

High in the sky, the Beast Sovereign raced into the distance at full speed.

Dozens of Stage SSS Kethari pursued it from behind.

The Beast Sovereign glanced back, and the corner of its mouth twitched.

"Three peak Tier 47s and eight more at Tier 47... Miles, you're really trying to get me killed!"

It pushed itself even faster, not daring to slow down for an instant.

Fortunately, it still had the advantage in speed.

But once it revealed itself, the other races arriving in the area quickly spotted it. Before long, creatures from the Void Realm began closing in from every direction, trying to cut it off.

The Beast Sovereign's heart lurched.

"This is even crazier than Eldoria!"

It immediately changed course and broke toward the weakest section of the encirclement.

If they managed to pin it down, it would be lucky to escape with its hide intact.

The entire time, the Beast Sovereign cursed Miles nonstop. No one could hear exactly what it was saying, but it was undoubtedly filthy.

"Achoo!"

Back in New Atlas, Miles sneezed.

"The Beast Sovereign must be cursing me." He stared helplessly at the tablet in his hand.

Of course he could see the Beast Sovereign's situation. He had expected this outcome from the beginning.

But he had no other choice. He'd already sent everyone available to intercept as many enemies as possible. Otherwise, even more fighters would be surrounding the Beast Sovereign, and it wouldn't have had any chance to break through.

"Sorry, Beast Sovereign," Miles murmured. "You're the strongest one we have, so hang in there a little longer."

His expression abruptly changed.

"Abyron and Dahlia are in trouble!"

The two of them were still fighting the Vesari, though the battle was nearly over.

Abyron drove his spear through the last Vesari fighter, leaving only the Vesari Patriarch still struggling against Dahlia.

He pulled his spear free and moved to help her finish off the Patriarch.

Then more than a dozen figures appeared in the distance, flying toward them at incredible speed.

Abyron's expression changed.

"Forget him. We're leaving!"

"Okay!"

Dahlia nodded and prepared to retreat.

"You're not going anywhere!"

The Vesari Patriarch fought like a madman, desperately keeping Dahlia pinned down.

His eyes were bloodshot, and he had nearly lost his mind. After watching every one of his people die, his rage had consumed him.

Even if he died here, he would drag these two down with him.

Abyron's face darkened. He raised his spear and rushed over to help.

"Go!" Dahlia suddenly shouted. "Leave me!"

Abyron paused.

Normally, he couldn't get far enough away from this lovestruck pest.

But this time, he didn't leave. He charged straight back into the fight.

"Get out of here!" Dahlia yelled. "You hate me, don't you? Then why are you coming back? If you stay, neither of us will escape!"

"Shut up!"

Abyron thrust his spear viciously at the Vesari Patriarch.

He might find her annoying as hell, but he wasn't the kind of man who could turn his back on someone and leave them to die.

He knew staying was stupid. His boss might even tear into him for it later, but this was simply who he was.

When Dahlia realized Abyron was willing to risk his life for her, her gaze softened, and a smile crept across her face.

"You like me, don't you?"

"You're insane!"

Abyron ignored her and continued attacking the Vesari Patriarch with everything he had.

There was no chance they could kill him before the approaching group arrived, but Abyron still refused to give up.

"If you don't like me, why did you stay?"

"Can you stop flirting for five damn seconds and fight?!" Abyron shouted.

Not that fighting would make much difference now.

In only a few seconds, the approaching figures reached them and surrounded all three.

"I didn't expect to find a human here!" said the scarred man leading the group, his voice filled with excitement.

"You know humans?" A sliver of hope appeared on Abyron's face.

Maybe these people had some connection to humanity.

"Of course we do. How could we not?"

A sinister look crossed the scarred man's face.

That tiny sliver of hope vanished, and Abyron's heart sank.

"Great. Another race with a grudge against humanity."

He sighed inwardly.

"This might really be where I die."

It wasn't that he had no intention of resisting. He simply had no chance against this lineup.

They had one peak Tier 47 and three more Tier 47s. Those four alone could crush all three of them without breaking a sweat.

"Tell me where the rest of your people are!" the scarred man demanded coldly.

"There aren't any others," Abyron replied. "I'm the only one left."

"You refuse to talk? Fine. I'll make you talk."

He pointed at the three of them.

"Kill the other two. Cripple the human and take him alive."

"Yes!"

"My lord, wait! I'm not with them!" the Vesari Patriarch cried in panic.

"I don't care whether you're with them. Kill him too," the scarred man said coldly.

"You...!"

The Vesari Patriarch glared at him furiously.

"Serves you right," Dahlia mocked.

The alien fighters charged.

Abyron, Dahlia, and the Vesari Patriarch refused to wait for death. All three launched their strongest counterattacks.

But the difference in strength was far too great. Once the scarred man joined the fight, they were quickly driven into a hopeless position.

Back in New Atlas, anxiety spread across Miles's face as he watched the feed.

"See if we can get Theron over there to help!"

But when he switched the screen to Theron, his expression darkened again.

Theron was in trouble too.

After dealing with the first eight fighters, Theron had been sent after several scattered groups with only a few members each. He had eliminated them all quickly.

But the final three-person group Miles assigned him had somehow forced him onto the defensive.

One of those three was actually a peak Tier 47—a possibility Miles had never expected.

The satellite feed couldn't reveal anyone's strength, so he could only estimate based on the size of each group.

Usually, larger groups were more likely to contain exceptionally powerful fighters, while smaller groups tended to be somewhat weaker.

Seeing how badly Theron was struggling, Miles had no choice but to abandon the idea of sending him to help Abyron.

He checked on the others.

Chris was currently being chased, leading his pursuers toward another alien group.

At this point, he was either being hunted or on his way to get hunted again.

But his contribution had been enormous. He had already tricked at least six or seven pairs of races into fighting each other.

Some of the smarter groups hadn't attacked each other immediately, forcing Chris to escalate the conflict before they would take the bait. He was genuinely swamped.

More importantly, he had only just reached Stage SSS. There was no way he could take part in a battle on Abyron's level.