The bulk freighter loomed on the horizon, groaning as it slowed down, its massive frame swaying slightly with age. The thing looked ancient—definitely a relic from thirty years ago, maybe more.
Still, it was a hell of a lot better than that fish-hauler Bloodveil had shown up in before. At least this one didn't reek like a rotting seafood market.
Packed inside were five thousand elite zombies, all under the command of a towering brute of a Zombie King. He was massive—thick slabs of muscle wrapped in layers of fat, the kind of build that screamed raw power.
He was shirtless, his tiny eyes sunken deep into folds of flesh, and two jagged tusks jutted from his mouth like an orc straight out of a fantasy novel.
His name? Ravager. One of the top enforcers under Gorthas, the Deathless Sovereign of Heartland. He was the same guy who'd once tried to teleport to Earth, only to get smacked in the face with a stone tablet by Ethan and sent flying back through the portal.
