Chapter 668: These alien freaks are way too strong!

Ethan’s elite zombie vanguard led the charge, cutting through the battlefield like a blade through butter. On the other side, Dreadpaw’s horde was a mess—starving, sluggish, barely holding themselves together. The difference in strength was night and day, and it showed immediately.

Hot on their heels came hundreds of thousands of battle-hardened zombies, each one radiating bloodlust and adrenaline. This was the battlefield they’d been waiting for, and they were ready to tear it apart.

Among them, the towering figures of the major Zombie Kings loomed, each more terrifying than the last.

Vines and pink blossoms burst into bloom across the desolate wasteland of the Exile Zone, adding a surreal splash of color to the otherwise bleak terrain. Twisted red tumors pulsed between the flowers, releasing clouds of fungal spores that drifted across the battlefield, latching onto enemy zombies and parasitizing them on the spot.

Then came PhD’s mechanical zombie army.

Sleek, silver-toned metal bodies marched forward in perfect formation, their crystal core energy pulsing with a cold, deadly light. The moment they hit the front lines, they unleashed a barrage of firepower, lighting up the battlefield in a storm of explosions.

The Japanese Iron Trio and the Dune Twins weren’t far behind, leading their own ferocious zombie hordes into the fray.

“Let the light of the Overlord cleanse the universe!”

And finally, Big Ears and his four zombie lieutenants emerged from a blinding white light, each flanked by their own squads of undead. Trailing behind them was a small, scrappy prisoner—Dirtferret.

A thick black mist, the mark of slaughter, began to rise again.

Fear Zombie King’s roar split the air, echoing through the chaos. Smaller zombies like Gatorax slithered through the smoke like demons from a nightmare, their twisted faces full of rage and bloodlust.

The massacre had begun.

Ethan’s forces tore through Dreadpaw’s horde like a tidal wave, overwhelming them with sheer force and precision.

“Wha—”

Dreadpaw, who’d been fuming with rage just moments ago, stood frozen in disbelief.

What the hell is this?

This is way over the top…

The other Zombie Kings, who had been snarling and ready to fight, now looked up in horror. Their eyes widened as they saw the sky darken—not from clouds, but from a massive swarm of crows circling overhead like a living storm.

“Those are alien monsters!”

“Are those the legendary birds? They’re terrifying!”

“We’re being invaded by aliens!”

Panic spread like wildfire. They screamed and raged, completely losing it. None of them had ever seen anything like this, and the fear was primal.

Meanwhile, Ethan pulled out a sleek, twelve-inch metal rod and eyed it with a hint of doubt.

“Is this thing even clean?”

With a flick of his wrist, the rod lit up—crystal core energy surged through it, and a brilliant white blade extended from the hilt. It looked badass.

Everything else aside, style is forever.

Gripping the lightsaber, Ethan vanished in a blur of motion, charging straight into the enemy horde. The glowing blade left streaks of light in its wake as he cut through the battlefield.

Bulldozer and Laura were right behind him.

The two Zombie Kings were practically buzzing with excitement. It had been too long since they’d fought alongside their boss.

Ethan was the first to hit the front lines. His lightsaber sliced through the air, and in one clean motion, a Zombie King’s head went flying. The cut was so smooth, it looked like it had been polished.

“Damn, that’s sharp…”

Bulldozer let out a thunderous roar, grabbed a massive boulder—easily a hundred tons—and heaved it over his head like it was nothing. With a grunt, he hurled it forward.

The rock crashed down with a deafening boom, pulverizing every zombie in its path. Blood and gore splattered across the ground, leaving a gruesome trail in its wake.

And Laura? She was in her element.

She moved like a whirlwind of death—limbs flew, blood sprayed, and bodies dropped like flies wherever she passed.

Dreadpaw, watching his underlings get shredded, couldn’t take it anymore. “You’re using my boys to test your damn lightsaber?!” he shouted, then leapt into the fray himself. “There’s no turning back now—kill them all!”

He was trying to rally his troops, to spark some kind of comeback.

But it was too late.

His zombies were already starving, teetering on the edge of madness. Now, with the chaos of battle pushing them over, they completely lost control. Some of them couldn’t even tell friend from foe anymore—and started tearing into their own allies.

“Shit!”

Dreadpaw’s face darkened as he took in the chaos unraveling around him.

Several of his Zombie Kings were already panicking.

“Boss, these alien freaks are way too strong!”

“This is a full-blown alien zombie invasion—we can’t win this!”

“We need to fall back, now!”

Their voices rose in frantic shouts, fear creeping into every word. The will to fight was crumbling fast.

But before anyone could make a move, a shadow rose silently behind one of the Zombie Kings. A flash of black claws—razor-sharp and gleaming—slashed forward, plunging straight into the King’s back.

“Ambush!”

Blood and gore exploded outward as the Zombie King was impaled, his body lifted clean off the ground like a ragdoll.

“Kehehehehehe…”

The laugh that followed was cold and bone-chilling—Little Shadow’s voice, twisted and cruel, sent shivers through even the undead.

Whatever morale Dreadpaw’s horde had left shattered completely. The ranks broke. Zombies dropped their weapons, turned tail, and ran in every direction, screaming and stumbling over each other in blind panic.

Dreadpaw’s brow furrowed, his expression grim.

These off-world monsters… their powers were bizarre, unpredictable. And the way they were targeting his flesh—it wasn’t random. They came prepared.

“We walked right into it…”

And then it hit.

A crushing force slammed into the battlefield like a meteor falling from the sky. The air itself seemed to collapse inward, thick with the weight of destruction.

The ground cracked and buckled beneath their feet. Zombies nearby were instantly obliterated, their bodies bursting into clouds of blood mist.

The energy was wild, chaotic—like a natural disaster had been unleashed.

Dreadpaw staggered, his body suddenly heavy, like gravity had doubled. He turned his head just in time to see a lightsaber slicing through the air toward him, its hum sharp and deadly.

Eyes wide, he twisted to dodge.

But Ethan’s Domain of the Dead had already locked him down, slowing his movements just enough. The blade grazed across his chest, carving a deep, smoking gash that sizzled with energy.

Putrid blood sprayed from the wound, the flesh beneath charred and exposed. It was a brutal, clean cut—surgical and merciless.

“Not bad,” Ethan muttered, glancing at the lightsaber in his hand. “Even slices through Zombie Kings like butter.”

Dreadpaw stared at him, stunned, teeth clenched so hard they might crack. Humiliation burned in his gut.

He’s not just using my underlings for target practice—he’s using me too?

“Die, you bastard!” Dreadpaw roared, eyes bloodshot as he lunged forward in a berserker rage, throwing everything he had into a desperate attack.

But to Ethan, it was just a tantrum.

He moved with effortless grace, lightsaber flashing in arcs of light, each swing leaving glowing trails in the air. Dreadpaw’s body was soon covered in fresh wounds, blood pouring from every cut.

It was only a matter of time before he fell.

…

The entire battle was a one-sided slaughter.

But off to the side, one Zombie King stood frozen, surrounded by a few of his zombie lackeys, all of them looking completely lost.

“Wait… are those the boss’s zombies?”

“They’re insane! Look at them go!”

“Hank, buddy, I think your title as the top lieutenant’s in serious danger.”

“Yeah, no kidding…”

The group stood there, gawking, their faces a mix of awe and confusion.

Hank’s eyes darted across the battlefield, watching the other Zombie Kings in action. Each one was a powerhouse, but two in particular—Sprout and Petal—left him speechless.

He’d grown up on the edge of the Exile Zone, where plants were practically myths. Flowers? He’d never even seen one in real life.

“What the hell are those things?” he asked, eyes wide.

“No clue,” one of his minions said, scratching his head. “But maybe go talk to her? Could be one of the boss’s inner circle. Might be smart to get on her good side.”

“Yeah… not a bad idea,” Hank nodded. His crew wasn’t exactly known for their brains, but every now and then, they had a decent thought.

So, he set his sights on Petal and strolled over, trying to look casual, but clearly nervous. He plastered on a friendly smile and bowed slightly.

“Hey there, uh… what should I call you?”

“I’m Daisy 2.0. Petal.”

“Wow, that’s… a beautiful name!” Hank blurted out, not entirely sure what to make of it.

(Daisy 2.0? What, names come with software updates now?)

Trying to keep the conversation going, he grinned awkwardly and added,

“Mine’s kinda similar—I go by… The Official Punching Bag. Hank!”

…