Umbradrake had been stuck at SS+ for what felt like forever. But after the brutal campaign through Xenorift and a long period of quiet refinement, he finally broke through—smooth as butter—into SSS.

"..." Endless said nothing, but his silence spoke volumes. One Voidborn Undying after another popping up on the enemy side? Yeah, that was a hell of a surprise—and not the good kind.

Sure, Umbradrake's sudden promotion didn't exactly flip the entire war on its head. But the psychological blow? That hit hard. Especially with that fake Deathless Sovereign aura he'd thrown out earlier—so convincing it was almost more terrifying than the real thing.

He's like an itch you can't scratch—doesn't kill you, just drives you crazy.

And the worst part? The enemy still had a bunch of SS+ Zombie Kings with insane potential. A few of them were clearly teetering on the edge of breaking through to SSS. It was only a matter of time.

Right then, in the chaos of the battlefield, a shadow darted through the carnage like a phantom. Silent. Lethal.

It crept up behind a distracted Zombie King—and struck.

A flash of claws. A wet crunch. The Zombie King's skull was pierced clean through.

Blood dripped from Little Shadow's claws, thick and dark. He didn't hesitate—ripped the crystal core from the corpse and shoved it straight into his mouth.

"Even Bulldozer's broken through now," he muttered, licking the blood from his fingers. "At this rate, I'm gonna be the one Queen Laura keeps mocking."

He was the fourth to join Ethan's inner circle, right after the original trio. Technically, he'd joined before Sprout. And now, the hunger to ascend burned hotter than ever.

His body flickered, melting into shadow, then flaring up like black fire. His aura surged, wild and unstable—something inside him was shifting.

He was close.

Suddenly, a roar tore through the battlefield.

It wasn't just loud—it was seismic. The sound ripped through the air, echoing for miles. Zombies all across the field flinched, their bodies trembling involuntarily.

The zombie beast horde had arrived.

They came in a stampede—zombie elephants, black-furred zombie wolves, and snarling, tusked zombie rhinos. All of them infected with corpse rot, more savage than their undead cousins, and twice as feral.

And leading the charge?

A massive white tiger, its fur streaked with blood, muscles rippling beneath its hide.

Snowy.

Ethan's personal creation. A zombie tiger infected by his own hand.

Now, Snowy stood at the peak of SS rank, having absorbed Ethan's blood and inherited a sliver of his dominance. It radiated raw power—far beyond any ordinary elite.

Snowy stood atop a mangled corpse, blood dripping from its fangs. It raised its massive head and let out a thunderous roar.

The sound shattered the clouds overhead, shaking the heavens and the earth.

Endless watched, and a cold realization crept in.

Not only was his Zombie Horde falling behind in numbers... even their top-tier combatants were starting to lose ground.

He turned to glance behind him—Heartland's territory was in chaos. Bloodveil and Wraithshade had already broken through and were pushing deeper, closing in on The Origin Mountain.

"Nerissa couldn't even hold the east..." Nightwraith muttered, frustration creeping into his voice.

He looked toward Ethan, who had taken a few hits earlier but now stood still, conserving his strength, waiting.

"He's stalling," Nightwraith said. "He's buying time. Maybe we should just go all in and take him out now?"

"Not yet," Endless said, shaking his head. "It's not time."

This was still the outskirts of Heartland—not the core of The Origin Mountain.

Until the final moment, there was no need to risk everything.

Especially with Bloodveil and Wraithshade still deep in the rear territory. If they fell, the whole structure would collapse.

"We pull back," Endless decided. "Fall back to the base of The Origin Mountain. We dig in there."

"Got it," Nightwraith agreed immediately.

Their forces were too spread out along the edges of Heartland. They couldn't leverage their numbers like this.

And what's a Zombie Horde if it's not a horde?

By regrouping at the mountain's base, they could hold off all three enemy factions at once.

And so, the tide of battle shifted.

Heartland's undead began to retreat, pulling back in waves. The elite units—Velissra, Terrax, and the rest—moved fastest. They were getting wrecked by Laura and Bulldozer, completely outmatched and burning through energy fast.

If not for their SSS-tier bodies, they'd have been corpses already.

"Trying to run, are we?"

Ethan narrowed his eyes as he watched the Heartland forces begin to retreat. No way in hell was he letting them slip away that easily.

In a flash, he surged forward, cutting through the chaos like a blade. His Domain of the Dead erupted outward, a wave of deathly energy rolling across the battlefield, stretching far and wide—straight toward the three Deathless Sovereigns.

"Damn it!" Nightwraith snarled, glancing back with a scowl. His jaw clenched tight.

No one—no one—had ever dared to chase down three Deathless Sovereigns mid-retreat.

But Ethan? He was the first.

Nightwraith's mental energy flared, slamming into the encroaching domain to hold it back. The ground trembled violently beneath them, and the sky above cracked with thunder.

But it wasn't just Ethan pressing in.

From the rear, the Dreadnought-class Starcruiser loomed in the sky, its cannons glowing ominously. On the ground, an endless tide of undead surged forward, a tsunami of rotting flesh and gnashing teeth.

Heartland's forces fought as they fell back, but it was chaos. Many were overwhelmed, dragged down and torn apart by the relentless swarm.

"Lilith," Endless called out, his voice calm but urgent. "Help them."

"Mm..." Lilith nodded, her eyes narrowing.

A strange, sinister energy began to pulse from her body—cold, dark, and ancient. It coiled around her like a living shadow, growing stronger by the second.

Ethan felt it immediately. His brow lifted, and his steps slowed.

Lilith had barely done anything this whole time. She'd been quiet, almost passive. But the rumors said she was the second-strongest among the Five Sovereigns of Heartland—stronger even than Nightwraith.

And now, she was finally showing her hand.

"Necro Domain... Rise, my dead."

Her voice was soft, almost a whisper—but it carried like a scream across the battlefield.

Her Deathless Sovereign aura exploded, flooding the area with a wave of twisted, necrotic energy. The ground itself seemed to groan under the weight of it.

All around her, the battlefield was littered with corpses—zombies, beasts, shattered husks of the fallen.

And then... they began to stir.

A low, guttural growl echoed from the dead.

"What the hell...?" murmured one of Ethan's lieutenants, eyes darting around.

Ethan's gaze sharpened. Is she... raising the souls of the dead?

He was right.

From the blood-soaked earth, black, spectral wraiths began to rise—twisted remnants of the fallen, their forms flickering like smoke, their eyes glowing with hate.

Some appeared behind Ethan's own soldiers, striking without warning.

"Watch out!"

"RAAAHHH!"

The Zombie Horde roared in alarm, forced to turn and fight the ghostly attackers.

These weren't just illusions. The spirits had form—substance. They could hurt.

They had no minds, no fear. Just the lingering will to kill, burned into them at the moment of death.

"What a freakish ability..." Ethan muttered under his breath, watching the chaos unfold.

The battlefield was a storm of shadows now. The once-cohesive formation of his horde was shattered, scattered by the sudden onslaught of the dead's dead.

Lilith had turned the tide with a single move.

She was every bit the monster the legends claimed.

The strength of each wraith was tied to the level of the zombie it had been in life. The stronger the corpse, the more dangerous the spirit.

"Fall back!" Lilith called, her voice sharp. The spell was powerful—but draining. She couldn't hold it forever.

"Understood," Endless nodded, rallying his forces.

Under the cover of the spectral storm, the Heartland zombies began to pull back in earnest, retreating toward the base of The Origin Mountain.

All remaining Heartland forces were converging there.

The stage was being set for a battle unlike anything the world had ever seen—an all-out war of millions.

And The Origin Mountain was the perfect stronghold. Towering peaks, treacherous terrain—it was a fortress by nature. Hard to attack, easy to defend. Even the Crystal Core Blasters and Dreadnought-class Starcruisers would have trouble hitting targets deep within its ridges.

Through the swirling mass of wraiths, Endless locked eyes with Ethan one last time as he backed away.

"You want to open The Origin Mountain?" he said, voice echoing through the deathly silence.

"I'll be waiting for you there."

...

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