"What?" Howler and the other zombies froze, their minds going blank.
Umbradrake's words echoed in their skulls like a death knell.
A real… The Voidborn Undying.
"No wonder…"
In an instant, everything made sense. The overwhelming gap in strength, the crushing pressure, the way their boss got flattened in a single hit—it all clicked.
They hadn't just picked the wrong fight.
They'd picked it with him.
"But how? Why would a real Voidborn Undying show up in the outskirts of Necroterra?"
"Does that mean we're…?"
They didn't dare finish the thought. Their minds spiraled into despair.
And then they saw him.
Ethan.
Walking toward them.
Step by step.
Calm. Unhurried. Like death itself was closing in.
The weight of his SSS-tier aura pressed down on them like a mountain. Every zombie on the field felt it—an instinctive, primal fear. The kind that said: Run. Or die.
Umbradrake, now fully aware of the nightmare he'd stumbled into, felt all resistance drain from his body.
