The Flame Zombie King was no more.
Its corpse lay mangled beyond recognition, and its most prized possession—the energy crystal—had been ripped from its chest. The demise was not only tragic but brutally swift, a stark reminder of the cruel reality of the apocalypse: only the victorious deserve to survive.
Here, victory belonged to Blade King and Tyrant.
Not only had they vanquished the Flame Zombie King, but they had also secured its territory. More importantly, they had drawn out yet another Zombie King, potentially turning this confrontation into a twofold triumph.
While Blade King continued to duel with Grimface, Tyrant, now free from dealing with the Flame Zombie King, slowly advanced toward his next opponent. His chilling words echoed through the battlefield:
"Your turn."
"Damn it! Useless fool!" Grimface cursed, seething with anger and regret.
His reasons for aiding the Flame Zombie King were twofold. First, to prevent the domino effect—if Blade King and Tyrant eradicated the Flame Zombie King, it was only a matter of time before they set their sights on him.
But the second, far more crucial reason, was to acquire that item.
This object of desire was a newly formed artifact brimming with immense energy. Consuming it could catapult its owner through multiple ranks, solidifying their supremacy over the surrounding kings. For Grimface, it was nothing short of a divine boon.
But as with all treasures, it was perilous to obtain. The Flame Zombie King had discovered it by chance and barely escaped with its life. Grimface dared not attempt it alone, choosing instead to save the Flame Zombie King, hoping to join forces and seize the artifact together before betraying his ally to claim it for himself.
Alas, his plans unraveled before they even began.
Not only had his rescue failed, but it had also plunged him into this inescapable chaos.
Grimface knew he could not defeat both Blade King and Tyrant at once; even a one-on-one fight promised uncertainty.
Seeing no alternative, he made his decision: to flee.
"Those two might be strong, but within my own territory, they'd find it impossible to break through my zombie horde!" he rationalized.
Grimface dispersed his Shadow Dart, the attack he had prepared to unleash, and instead commanded his army to retreat. He then activated his shadow-based ability, intending to vanish into the darkness.
But before he could act, a powerful pressure descended from the sky, blanketing the battlefield.
It was an aura of dominance—majestic, unyielding, and irresistible.
Blade King, Tyrant, and their horde immediately knelt, bowing their heads in reverence as if worshiping a sovereign ruler.
Grimface and his zombies, however, faltered under the weight. The oppressive force felt like a mountain crushing them into submission.
Thud. Thud.
One by one, Grimface's zombies broke free of his control and knelt unbidden, their behavior resembling a pledge of fealty rather than fear.
"What… what is happening?" Grimface stammered in disbelief.
His attempt to escape into the shadows was forcibly interrupted. When he looked up, he saw his army kneeling before him, swearing allegiance to another.
Rage and terror surged within him.
The rage stemmed from betrayal by his own horde.
The terror? That stemmed from the source of the oppressive aura—an entity of unimaginable power. Only a Zombie King vastly superior to its peers could incite such defection through sheer presence.
Finally, the wielder of this overwhelming might made his entrance.
Clad in an immaculate black suit, tall and elegant, with windswept black hair and eyes glowing a menacing crimson, Zhang Yang descended from the sky. Suspended in mid-air, he gazed down upon the battlefield with unassailable authority.
Blade King and Tyrant spoke in unison:
"Hail, our King!"
Grimface, now utterly alone, recognized the figure and cried out:
"So, you're the one behind them! The Fourth-Tier Zombie King!"
Zhang Yang's gaze swept the battlefield before settling on Grimface. In a calm yet commanding tone, he spoke:
"You're correct."
"Your abilities are commendable. I offer you two choices: submit to me, or perish."
Grimface, unwilling to yield, sneered in defiance.
"Perhaps there's a third option. Shadows are endless, whether in daylight or darkness. If I choose to flee, not even a Fourth-Tier Zombie King can stop me!"
"You're welcome to try."
Zhang Yang's eyes narrowed, his voice icy and resolute. The killing intent in his words was unmistakable.
With a wave of his hand, Zhang Yang unleashed his psychic force across the battlefield. Rubble and debris from the surrounding ruins levitated into the air, aligning their sights on Grimface like a storm ready to unleash its fury.
"Damn it!" Grimface cursed, his arrogance giving way to desperation.
Without hesitation, he activated his shadow ability, diving into the nearest patch of darkness. At the last moment, he narrowly avoided a massive piece of debris crashing down where he once stood.
He flitted between shadows, his movements swift and elusive. The shadow ability, his signature technique, allowed him to escape danger countless times before.
But today was different.
Zhang Yang's psychic power made him the perfect counter to Grimface. His mental perception extended hundreds of meters, sensing even the slightest disturbance. No matter how Grimface darted between shadows, Zhang Yang tracked him with unerring precision.
Each time Grimface emerged, Zhang Yang retaliated with relentless psychic bombardments—rubble, vehicles, and shattered remnants of buildings rained down upon him.
It wasn't long before Grimface, battered and bloodied, began to falter. His body was a broken mess, with a twisted arm hanging limply and his flesh torn and mangled.
The once-proud Grimface now stood on the brink of defeat, his arrogance shattered and his fate sealed.