Chapter 737: He’s not predicting the future

“Mmm~now that’s more like it. Knew you had some sense,” Ragnar said with a smug grin, shooting a glance at Umbradrake as he readily accepted the offer.

Vulturea, her blood-smeared face twisted into a grin, stepped forward with a mock bow. “Happy to be of service.”

“Nice.” Ragnar was clearly pleased, practically itching to get moving. “Let’s go then. Time to hunt down more Xenobeasts and drag those bastards out—I’ve got some revenge to take.”

“Of course,” Vulturea replied smoothly.

But off to the side, Bloodveil watched the exchange with narrowed eyes. Something about this whole thing felt… off. The vibe was just wrong.

Umbradrake, of all people, offering to send Vulturea to help Ragnar?

Was he trying to curry favor?

That didn’t sound like Umbradrake at all…

Unless… he was afraid of Ragnar’s backing in Heartland?

Zombie Kings from other regions of Necroterra did tend to tread carefully around Heartland’s influence.

“Forget it…”

Bloodveil shook her head, unable to make sense of it. No point overthinking. She turned her focus back to the mission—hunting Xenobeasts.

They stuck to the same strategy as before: the Zombie Kings would split up, but stay within range to support each other if needed.

Bloodveil gave the order: “Let’s move. These Xenobeasts are using hit-and-run tactics. We need to stay sharp—they could strike at any time. If anything happens, report immediately.”

“Yes, ma’am!” the Zombie Kings responded in unison before scattering into the darkness, each leading their own undead squads.

The blackened valley echoed with the low growls of zombies, like a horde of demons prowling for prey.

Meanwhile, Ethan—still wearing Umbradrake’s face—watched Ragnar and Vulturea disappear into the shadows. The farther they got, the more certain he was.

That guy’s not making it out alive…

Hammerhead lumbered up beside him. “Boss, are we still hunting Xenobeasts?”

“No need,” Ethan said calmly. “The real battle’s about to begin.”

“Huh?” Hammerhead’s eyes narrowed, surprised.

“I need to step away for a bit. You guys keep moving on your own. Here—take these. Use them if things get dicey.” As he spoke, Ethan pulled out two crystal core bombs.

Hammerhead leaned in, curious. The bombs were about the size of eggs, encased in gleaming silver alloy. Inside, the crystal cores pulsed with a dangerous glow.

“Damn…” Hammerhead could feel the unstable energy radiating from them—definitely S-rank or higher. This was top-tier human tech.

He took the bombs, cradling them in his massive hands. He understood what Ethan meant. When the real fight broke out, Ethan might not be able to protect him.

“Don’t worry, boss. I’ve got this.”

Ethan nodded once, then without another word, vanished into the darkness, silently tailing Ragnar’s path.

Hammerhead stood there, staring down at the bombs in his hands.

A thought crept into his mind.

Boss not only got his hands on a damn aircraft… now he’s got these things too?

There’s no way his trip through human civilization was anything close to normal…

Just then, Snout waddled over, his rolls of fat jiggling with every step. His eyes widened when he saw what Hammerhead was holding.

“Hammerhead, what are those things in your hands?”

“Nothing special—just a couple of metal stress balls. Helps keep the hands busy,” Hammerhead said with a straight face.

“Whoa, cool!” Snout looked genuinely impressed. Then he leaned in, lowering his voice. “Hey, did you hear what Umbradrake said earlier? That the real battle’s about to start? How the hell does he know that? Can he see the future or something?”

“Hmm…”

Hammerhead frowned, thinking it over. He remembered how Ethan had arrived earlier than the others, but told Bloodveil he’d just gotten there. Maybe… he’d seen something before they showed up.

And then it clicked—just a flicker of understanding, but enough to shift his whole perspective.

“He’s not predicting the future,” Hammerhead muttered.

“He’s creating it…”

…

Hidden in the shadows, Ethan moved like a ghost—silent, invisible, and deadly. He trailed Ragnar effortlessly, his presence completely undetectable.

Up ahead, Ragnar was practically strutting, full of himself. “You saw that, right? Even the Overlord of Southvale, Umbradrake, had to come crawling to me. That’s the kind of respect a Zombie King from Heartland commands.”

“Oh…” Vulturea nodded, her tone neutral.

Ragnar kept going, clearly enjoying the sound of his own voice. “Honestly, hunting regular crystal cores isn’t the real goal. What really matters is taking out the Overmind Queen and the Lord of the Carrion Reavers. We need to figure out a way to eliminate them.”

“I’m sure you’ll succeed,” Vulturea said sweetly, though a flicker of cold malice flashed in her eyes—so quick it was almost imperceptible.

“Alright, go on ahead. Scout out where those Xenobeasts are hiding,” Ragnar ordered with a wave.

“Of course.” Vulturea grinned, then leapt into the air, gliding forward with eerie grace, vanishing into the darkness ahead.

Ragnar followed at a leisurely pace, hands behind his back, looking smug. Having a scout with top-tier detection skills really was a game-changer.

And sure enough, just a few minutes later, Vulturea sent back a signal.

“Found a large group of Xenobeasts up ahead. Strong ones too—most of them are SS-class.”

“SS-class? That’s it?” Ragnar scoffed. “That’s supposed to be impressive?”

He cracked his knuckles, grinning. Time to show this rookie what real power looks like.

The hunt was on.

With a sudden burst of speed, Ragnar shot forward like a cannonball, his massive frame moving with shocking agility. He leapt from peak to peak, soaring through the night like a predator in flight.

Under the pitch-black sky, he looked like a beast unleashed.

“Where are they? Still not there yet?” he asked, sending a signal as he spotted Vulturea’s silhouette gliding ahead.

“Almost! Just a little farther!” she replied.

Ragnar hesitated for a moment, glancing back. They were getting pretty far from the main group now…

But then again, if they stayed close to Bloodveil and the others, the Xenobeasts would’ve scattered long ago. No way they’d find anything worth hunting.

“What’s wrong, Boss Ragnar?” Vulturea’s voice came through again, teasing. “You scared to get too far from Bloodveil? We could wait for them to catch up if you want.”

That did it.

Ragnar’s pride flared instantly. Scared? Me?

“Hell no. The farther we are from them, the better—less competition for my kills!” he growled, launching himself onto another ridge, pushing deeper into the mountains.

Behind him, the distance between him and the others grew wider and wider.

Above, the thick clouds began to part, revealing a half-moon glowing with an eerie crimson hue. Its blood-red light bathed Razorback Ridge in a haunting glow.

Ethan stood atop a distant peak, the red moon casting his silhouette in sharp relief. He looked like a statue carved from shadow and steel.

His eyes were calm, focused, locked on the figures ahead.

He watched as Ragnar followed Vulturea deeper into the wilderness, and he already knew exactly what she was planning.

Ragnar might not be the strongest, but he was still a Voidborn Undying. Even the Overmind Queen would have to go all out to take him down.

He thinks he’s the hunter—unaware he’s already someone else’s prey. And I’m the predator waiting to strike.

With a flicker of movement, Ethan vanished from the peak, slipping into the darkness like a blade drawn from its sheath.

Not long after, Vulturea came to a stop atop a jagged ridge.

“Boss Ragnar,” she called out, pointing down into the ravine below, “the Xenobeasts are hiding right down there.”

…