Chapter 790: Move! Get away from the worms!

The Command Cruiser descended slowly, settling behind a dirt slope. Wraithshade stepped out first, followed by Hexarm and Bloodleech, emerging from the hatch with a quiet intensity.

Ethan and the others stayed back, watching from a distance. It wasn’t their turn to act yet.

Up ahead, on the horizon, loomed a zombie nest. The open field surrounding it was crawling with patrols—zombies in loose clusters, some standing still, others wandering aimlessly, low growls rumbling from their throats.

"Heh heh... Let me go first," Bloodleech said with a twisted grin.

He dropped to all fours. The folds on either side of his face began to split open, slowly peeling back to reveal the raw muscle underneath.

Then, the worms came.

They slithered out from the gashes—thick in the middle, tapering at both ends, slick with a viscous slime. Tiny, needle-like teeth lined their mouths, twitching hungrily.

As soon as they hit the ground, they burrowed into the soil and began crawling toward the unsuspecting zombies in the distance.

"Infiltration initiated..." Bloodleech muttered under his breath.

The whole thing happened in eerie silence.

Even though the zombies out there were elite units, they didn’t notice a thing. They just kept shambling around like usual.

Then, one of them suddenly winced. A sharp pain shot through the sole of his foot—something had pierced it.

"Hisss..."

He bared his teeth and froze mid-step, balancing on one leg while lifting the other to inspect it. His claws cradled his foot as he tilted his head, trying to get a better look.

A nearby Zombie Leader glanced over. "What’s up? Step on something?"

"No... I think something crawled inside me!"

"Huh?" The leader raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. "Don’t screw around. Stay focused on patrol. We get meat when we’re done."

"I’m not joking!" the zombie snapped, frowning.

There was a bloody hole in the bottom of his foot, thick, dark blood oozing out. And under his skin—something was moving. Squirming. Crawling up from his ankle. One worm became two. Two became four. Then more. Way more.

"What the hell..."

The others around him recoiled, startled.

Something was seriously wrong.

Then it got worse. His entire leg went stiff, completely out of his control. The writhing under his skin spread fast, crawling up his body like wildfire. In seconds, it was everywhere.

His whole body started to tremble, then convulse violently.

"RRAAAHHH—!"

He let out a blood-curdling scream, wracked with agony.

Then his mind snapped. The worms had chewed through his brain. Whatever intelligence or control he had was gone. All that remained was raw, feral bloodlust. He’d devolved from an elite zombie into a mindless husk—no longer under the Zombie King’s psychic command.

He staggered forward, stiff-legged, like a toddler learning to walk. But there was nothing innocent about it. The way he moved was deeply unsettling.

"Wh-What are you doing?" one of his comrades stammered, backing away.

But the infected zombie didn’t respond. He just kept coming.

Then—pop.

His left eye bulged and exploded with a wet splatter.

A worm crawled out of the socket.

It had gorged itself on blood, swelling from noodle-thin to thumb-thick. It looked grotesque, pulsing with life.

"Stop him! Now!" the Zombie Leader barked, finally realizing the threat.

His underlings rushed in, claws out, slashing at the infected one. But his skin was soft—too soft. Like soaked tissue paper. It peeled away at the slightest touch.

And underneath?

A seething mass of worms.

They burst out, latching onto the attackers, biting through their flesh and burrowing in.

"Uuuaaagh—!"

A chorus of screams erupted across the field. Some zombies clutched their hands, others grabbed at their arms—each one had been invaded by the worms.

Within seconds, the telltale signs began: their skin started to ripple and squirm, the parasites crawling beneath the surface, spreading fast. One by one, they lost their minds, just like the first infected.

Now they too staggered forward with that same jerky, unnatural gait, closing in on the Zombie Leader.

"D-Don’t come any closer!" he stammered, panic flooding his voice. He stumbled backward, frozen in fear, trying to retreat.

He turned to run—intending to report back to the nest.

But the moment he pivoted—

A sharp pain shot through his foot. Something had burrowed in.

"Wha—?!"

He froze, stunned.

"..."

And it wasn’t just him.

All around the perimeter of the nest, the same thing was happening. Patrol zombies were getting infected left and right, losing control and turning back toward the nest—intent on spreading the infestation even further.

Bloodleech, all by himself, had plunged the entire area into chaos.

"His control over those parasites... it’s freaky. No doubt about it—he’s a master of disruption," Bloodveil muttered from his perch on the hillside, watching the scene unfold.

Ethan scanned the battlefield too. He’d seen parasite users before—this kind of ability wasn’t unheard of. But none had Bloodleech’s level of precision or potency. His infection rate and spread speed were off the charts. He might even be able to take down a high-tier Zombie King.

Down below, the zombie nest was descending into madness. The parasite outbreak was spreading fast—screams and howls echoed nonstop.

Some zombies had already started fighting back, but in the chaos, many were getting infected mid-battle.

"Move! Get away from the worms!"

"This is a full-blown invasion—we need to report to the boss, now!"

"Screw that, I’m outta here!"

"..."

Panic set in. Zombies scattered in all directions, fleeing in a frenzy. A few of the higher-tier Zombie Kings, though, held their ground. Their thick hides made them resistant to the worms, or they were speed-types—fast enough to slice the parasites apart before they got too close.

Inside the nest, the stronger Zombie Kings began to show their skills, each using their own powers to survive the chaos.

But the infected ones kept coming—stiff, twitching, relentless. They didn’t care who or what was in their way.

Then, in a blur of motion, a shadow streaked through the battlefield—so fast it was almost invisible. Heads flew. The infected dropped, lifeless, their spread halted.

"Boss!"

The fleeing zombies looked up, relief washing over their faces.

A figure stood ahead of them, back turned, claws dripping with thick, black blood.

It was the nest’s leader—an SS-class speed-type Zombie King.

"Everyone, stay sharp. This isn’t just some random parasite outbreak. This is an invasion."

"Yes, boss! We’ve gotta find the bastard behind this and tear him apart!" the zombies roared, fired up and ready to follow their leader into battle.

But then... something changed.

The Zombie King’s body trembled. His aura shifted. He stood there, unmoving, for several long seconds.

"Boss...?" one of the zombies called out, confused.

The leader slowly turned around.

His mouth stretched unnaturally wide, the corners pulling all the way up to his cheekbones. He grinned—a twisted, bone-chilling smile.

"Heh heh heh... Why don’t I take care of you myself?"

His voice was raspy, like stones grinding together.

Then he vanished in a blink—charging straight at his own troops.

Wraithshade had made his move.

He’d taken control of the Zombie King’s mind.

The underlings didn’t stand a chance. Screams tore through the air as they were slaughtered, one after another. Panic turned to horror.

Despair spread like wildfire.

Their leader—once their strongest shield—was now their executioner.

The zombies were lost, directionless.

But a few of the smarter Zombie Kings started putting the pieces together.

They might not have recognized Bloodleech’s parasites, but that kind of psychic domination? That was infamous.

"It’s him! He’s back!"

"It’s Wraithshade! No doubt about it—he’s trying to corrupt Clearwater Lake!"

"Quick—go get Lord Abyssion! Now!"

...