CHAPTER 678: REAL DEAL

Out on the battlefield, Umbradrake was riding high. He might not have fully lived up to the title of The Voidborn Undying, but damn if he didn’t look the part. His presence was overwhelming—raw, commanding, and terrifying.

The lower-tier zombies around him were so shaken by his aura, they didn’t even dare get close. A wide, empty ring formed around him, like a no-go zone carved out by sheer intimidation.

"Brothers! With me—charge!" Umbradrake bellowed, voice booming like thunder.

He surged forward, leading a pack of elite Zombie Kings and a dense wave of the horde. Vines were torn apart underfoot, and the field of delicate pink blossoms was trampled into mush.

Even the Japanese Iron Trio and the Dune Twins—two of the corpse nest’s most fearsome squads—were forced to fall back under the pressure.

Howler let out a breath of relief, muttering to himself, See? That’s what it means to have a Voidborn Undying as your boss. Now they get it.

But just as things seemed to be turning in their favor—

Whoosh!

A sharp gust sliced through the air. A gleaming claw-blade tore through the wind, aimed straight at Umbradrake’s face.

Laura wasn’t done. Not even close. She didn’t care about his theatrics—she was still on the hunt.

Umbradrake’s eyes widened. He jerked his head to the side just in time. The blade skimmed past his cheek, so close it sliced off a few strands of hair.

"Too close!"

But before he could even catch his breath, that same murderous pressure came crashing down again.

He whipped his head around—Laura was already there. Her speed was unreal. Her claw-blade was coming in for another strike, faster than he could react.

No time to dodge.

Umbradrake clenched his clawed hand into a fist and threw it forward with all his might.

CLANG—!

The impact rang out like a tortured scream of metal. Laura was knocked back, but she landed smoothly, one hand bracing her as she slid across the ground.

She glanced down at her right arm. The alloy claw-blade was still vibrating, humming with the aftershock of the blow. The sound was sharp, grating—almost painful to hear.

That alloy had been top-tier back on Earth—tough, nearly indestructible. But now, under this level of combat pressure, it was starting to show its limits.

Umbradrake’s fist, meanwhile, had a few shallow gashes—but his Zombie King body was already healing, the wounds sealing up in seconds.

"This one’s no joke..."

He’d come out slightly ahead in that exchange, but it had been way too close for comfort.

He didn’t dare let his guard down.

Laura rose to her feet again, silent and focused. Umbradrake tensed, eyes locked on her, every nerve on edge, ready for that next lightning-fast strike.

But then—

"Let me handle this."

A calm, steady voice cut through the tension.

Ethan stepped out of thin air, like he’d just peeled himself from the shadows. His eyes flicked to Laura’s claw-blade, noting the damage. Yeah... time to upgrade.

New world, new rules. Everything had to be rebuilt from scratch.

And there was still so much left to do.

At his words, Laura’s aggression melted away. She lowered her head respectfully and stepped back without a word, retreating into the ranks.

Now, Ethan stood alone in front of Umbradrake.

The other Zombie Kings lit up with excitement.

"Boss is stepping in!"

"Is this it? A showdown between two Voidborn Undying?!"

"We’ve got this in the bag now!"

"Hell yeah!"

Big Ears watched from a distance, still playing the part of the calm, calculating strategist.

Seeing how things were unfolding, he gave a confident nod, like everything was going exactly according to plan.

"It’s over," he said simply.

"For real?" Hank asked, eyes wide with curiosity.

Big Ears grinned. "Oh yeah. Just watch."

"..."

On the battlefield, Ethan’s Domain of the Dead began to stir—an invisible tide of power rising around him, thick and suffocating. The pressure rolled out like a tsunami, blanketing the entire area in a crushing wave of dominance.

Howler’s eyes bulged as he locked onto Ethan’s figure. "Boss! That’s him! The one who trashed our territory!"

"Oh? Then let me be the one to deal with him," Umbradrake said, stepping forward. His own aura flared in response, bolstered by his psychic force. For a moment, it looked like the two were evenly matched—two apex predators squaring off.

He stared Ethan down and gave a warning, voice low and heavy. "You sure you want to do this? We’ve both evolved to this point—it wasn’t easy. Don’t throw it all away over a reckless decision you’ll regret."

"You talk too much," Ethan replied flatly.

"You—! Fine then!" Umbradrake snarled, baring his fangs. At this point, there was no turning back. The fight was inevitable.

With a roar, he launched himself into the air, fist cocked back, diving down like a meteor. The wind howled around him, his punch tearing through the air with enough force to make the ground tremble.

But Ethan just tilted his head, unimpressed. "Too slow..."

The power behind the strike didn’t match the aura Umbradrake had been projecting. Was this just a probe? A test?

Cautious. Smart, Ethan thought.

He didn’t go all out either. A thin wisp of blood-red energy curled around his arm as he raised his fist to meet the blow—just a taste of his Domain of the Dead.

BOOOOM!

The impact exploded like a thunderclap. A shockwave ripped through the battlefield, shattering rocks and sending debris flying in every direction.

But Umbradrake felt like he’d just punched a steel wall.

Then—CRACK!

A sickening sound echoed through his body as his arm snapped under the force. Bone shattered, white fragments piercing through his skin. The next instant, he was launched backward like a ragdoll, crashing into the ground with a thunderous thud.

He bounced. Twice.

Then rolled—over and over—digging a deep trench into the earth before finally skidding to a stop.

The battlefield went dead silent.

Zombies everywhere froze, stunned.

Especially Howler and the others.

"What the hell just happened?"

"Boss just got launched!"

"He’s not even a real Voidborn Undying, sure—but the gap shouldn’t be this huge, right?!"

"..."

Ethan glanced down at his own fist, mildly surprised.

That was it?

This guy was way weaker than expected.

But then it clicked.

He wasn’t SSS-tier. Not even close. He just looked the part—faking the aura, the presence, the intimidation.

It was a bluff.

A trick.

Ethan had seen it before. In the rainforests of Central and South America, there was a butterfly—the Owl Butterfly. When it spread its wings, it revealed patterns that looked like an owl’s face, scaring off predators.

Umbradrake’s ability was basically the same thing.

A scare tactic.

"All bark, no bite..." Ethan muttered, disappointed. He’d been hoping to harvest a high-grade crystal core. Guess that would have to wait.

Real Voidborn Undying weren’t this easy to hunt.

Across the field, Umbradrake lay face-down in the dirt, stunned and shaken. That moment—when he’d gotten close—he’d felt it.

That pressure.

That suffocating, soul-crushing pressure.

The kind that only came from a true apex predator.

Only from a real top-tier Zombie King.

"Boss! You okay?!" Howler and the others rushed over, panic in their voices.

They couldn’t believe it. One hit. Just one hit, and their boss was wrecked.

His entire arm had been shattered.

"Boss, what the hell happened? I mean, sure, we’re faking it—but the difference shouldn’t be this massive, right?"

"...Because..." Umbradrake growled, his voice low and strained, "...he’s the real deal."

The others froze.

"...What?"

"Boss, what did you just say?"

"Yeah, what do you mean ’real deal’? Real what?"

"..."

Umbradrake pushed himself up from the dirt, his broken arm slowly knitting itself back together. But the fear in his eyes only deepened.

"I mean..." he said, voice trembling, "he’s the real Voidborn Undying."

...