"What?"
Seeing his proud techniques effortlessly neutralized without any noticeable impact, the Flame Zombie King froze in disbelief.
Quickly regaining his composure, he channeled his strength once more, the flames on his body burning even fiercer, preparing to unleash a more devastating attack.
However, the Tyrant and Blade King were not about to grant him that opportunity.
With his domineering aura as protection, the Tyrant, true to his name, adopted a reckless, unyielding fighting style. He charged through the raging wall of fire, closing in on the Flame Zombie King. His massive fist, as large as a boulder, hurtled straight toward the Flame Zombie King's face.
The Flame Zombie King instinctively dodged to the side, unaware that he had fallen into their trap.
It was all part of their plan. The Tyrant's ferocious assault was merely a feint—effective if it landed, but ultimately a diversion designed to force the Flame Zombie King into evading.
This maneuver gave the Blade King, who had been patiently gathering his strength, the perfect opening for a decisive strike.
At that moment, as the Flame Zombie King hastily sidestepped the Tyrant's fearsome punch, his entire form fell directly into the Blade King's range, leaving him utterly defenseless.
The colossal saber, measuring two meters in length and weighing over a hundred pounds, was a weapon most people could barely lift, let alone wield with precision. Yet, in the hands of the Blade King, it moved as fluidly as an extension of his own body.
The massive blade, imbued with raw energy, gleamed menacingly. Augmented by his mastery of saber techniques, its devastating power reached an unparalleled peak.
"Strike!"
With a thunderous roar, the Blade King raised his weapon high.
In a swift, overwhelming arc, he brought the saber down, its blade cutting through the air with a crescent gleam of death.
The strike cleaved through the Flame Zombie King's left side, severing his arm and a large portion of his shoulder. Black blood sprayed in all directions.
From the start of the battle to this moment, only two or three exchanges had passed.
The once-dominant Flame Zombie King, who had reigned supreme within the shopping mall, was now grievously wounded under the combined onslaught of the Tyrant and the Blade King. His vitality plummeted, and even his control over his subordinate zombies waned significantly.
His situation was nothing short of dire.
In stark contrast, the Tyrant and the Blade King—both zombie kings themselves—remained virtually unscathed. Their energy was as boundless as when the battle began, their fighting spirit burning brightly.
This disparity extended beyond the leaders.
The clash between their respective zombie hordes painted a similar picture.
Though the shopping mall had been bustling with life before the apocalypse, its transformation during the outbreak had been minimal, as the catastrophe struck late at night. This scarcity of initial zombies had allowed the Flame Zombie King to rise to power, but it also meant his forces were inherently weak.
Most of his followers had been recruited in the days following the apocalypse—zombies from surrounding areas who had been subdued and brought under his command. While a few were formidable, the majority were the unwanted remnants left behind by other zombie kings.
Despite numbering around seven to eight hundred, their combat prowess was lackluster at best, barely sufficient to repel human attacks.
Against the elite forces brought by the Tyrant and the Blade King, these lesser zombies quickly crumbled. Casualties mounted rapidly, and their gains in battle were negligible.
Among the attacking horde were elite guards armed with weapons, each capable of defeating two or three of their peers in direct combat.
Furthermore, their leaders, the Tyrant and the Blade King, remained invincible, whereas the Flame Zombie King was already struggling to survive.
As the battle wore on, the disparity in strength between the two sides became increasingly evident.
By now, the Flame Zombie King's forces, initially numbering in the hundreds, had dwindled to a mere two or three hundred, desperately clinging to their last shred of resistance.
But at this rate, their total annihilation was only a matter of time.
The Blade King approached the severely weakened Flame Zombie King, his massive saber poised once more to strike.
"Time to end this!"
At the precipice of death, the Flame Zombie King seemed to reach a desperate resolve. He hastily conjured a wall of fire to block the descending saber.
Simultaneously, he turned toward the rooftop of a distant building, extending his remaining arm in a plea for salvation.
"Ghostface! Save me!"
In the next instant, the wall of fire was sliced apart, and the colossal saber hurtled toward the Flame Zombie King's neck, poised to deliver the killing blow.
But before the blade could land, a shadowy figure vanished from the rooftop, moving with ghostlike speed.
Darting through the shadows cast by streetlights, wrecked vehicles, and crumbling buildings, the figure appeared in the nick of time, interposing itself between the Blade King and the Flame Zombie King.
Dark tendrils emerged from the figure's shadow, intangible yet unyielding, wrapping around the colossal blade and halting its deadly descent.
The unexpected savior had arrived.
"Ghostface Zombie King? A peak-tier second-order?"
The Blade King retracted his saber, his expression turning serious as he identified the intruder.
He spoke gravely, "You reign over the distant Prosperity District. Why intervene on behalf of such a pathetic creature?"
Ghostface Zombie King, a formidable ruler of another district with over a thousand subordinates, possessed a rare and dangerous shadow-based ability. His strength rivaled that of the Blade King and the Tyrant, making him a formidable adversary.
In response to the Blade King's query, Ghostface's lips curled into a sly grin.
"I'm merely a mercenary, paid to solve a problem," he replied nonchalantly. "Aren't you following orders from your leader to exterminate this pitiful excuse for a king?"
Turning his attention to the battered Flame Zombie King, Ghostface demanded his payment.
"Flame, since you've enlisted my help, you know the price. I'll take half of that item."
Hearing this, the Flame Zombie King grimaced. That item was of extraordinary value, something he had risked life and limb to obtain. It promised a dramatic surge in power, far surpassing the benefits of mere blood or energy crystals.
Yet, faced with death, he had no choice.
Clenching his teeth, he reluctantly nodded.
"Fine, but you must guarantee my safety!"
"Deal," Ghostface agreed confidently.
The Tyrant, however, could no longer contain his rage.
"Ghostface, don't think I can't crush you! Flame dies today, no matter what!"
Unfazed, Ghostface sneered. "Feel free to try."
With those words, the battlefield ignited anew.
This time, Ghostface took center stage, with the Flame Zombie King offering support from the rear.
Meanwhile, the Blade King clashed with Ghostface, leaving the Tyrant free to quickly finish off the Flame Zombie King.