"Big Lug, yours," Laura said casually, her voice low and laced with that ever-present edge of menace.

Bulldozer glanced at the crystal core she'd tossed him, then smirked, lips curling with a grunt. "Well, look at you—showing a little heart."

But the moment of levity was fleeting.

That human brute—the last real line of defense beneath the Dreadnought-class Starcruiser—was gone. And with him, the final barrier had crumbled.

The Zombie Horde surged forward like a tidal wave, unstoppable now. The remaining Awakeners tried to hold the line, but they were exhausted, their powers drained, their weapons nearly out of crystal cores.

They screamed, they fought, they fell.

One by one, they were swallowed by the horde.

Then came the next wave.

The zombies leapt onto Sprout's Sky-Piercing Vine, their movements agile and terrifyingly fast. Like a swarm of insects, they began scaling the thick vines, heading straight for the floating Dreadnought.

In seconds, the vines were crawling with undead.

"Shit—they're climbing up!"

"Take them out! Don't let them reach the deck!"

Panic erupted on the ship. Soldiers and Awakeners scrambled to fire down at the vine-covered swarm. Crystal Core Firearms lit up, elemental powers flared—but it wasn't enough.

They were running on fumes.

Too many had fought too long. Their bodies were spent, their minds frayed. Even their weapons were nearly dry—crystal cores flickering, on the verge of burnout.

They were at the end of the line.

And the zombies were already halfway up.

The tide had turned. The balance of power had shifted—completely.

They weren't just losing.

They were being overrun.

Southvale's Zombie Horde was unlike anything they'd faced before. And now, they needed a miracle—an SSS-rank powerhouse to turn the tide.

But Howard and the others?

They were barely holding on themselves.

Because not far away, Ethan stood tall—calm, composed, and terrifying. His presence alone was suffocating, like a mountain pressing down on their chests.

Now that Laura had ascended to SSS-rank, the Dreadnought's propulsion was crippled, and the horde was scaling the vines, Ethan knew the moment had come.

"The time's right," he murmured, gripping the collar of his white shirt.

With a single motion, he tore it off, revealing a body carved from steel—lean, powerful, and brimming with deadly intent.

It was time to hunt.

"Shit…" Howard's eyes narrowed, his gut twisting.

Here we go again.

The scene was all too familiar—like déjà vu from the Battle of Skywall. But this time, Ethan was even stronger. Far stronger.

"We've got no choice," Howard growled. "We go all in."

Flames erupted around him, wild and furious. His Infernal Soulflame Domain ignited, spreading like a volcanic eruption, the heat warping the air, melting stone.

Beside him, Gareth's eyes glowed with psychic light. His mind expanded outward, a vast ocean of mental force flooding the battlefield.

An SSS-rank psychic Awakener—his power was undeniable.

Together, their Domains surged toward Ethan, fire and mind intertwined, a cataclysmic force that scorched the earth and shattered stone, turning the battlefield into a hellscape.

It was like the wrath of nature itself.

But Ethan didn't flinch.

He stood still, eyes calm, as the twin forces slammed into an invisible wall—his Absolute Domain.

The attack stopped dead.

"What the—?" Howard's brow furrowed.

Gareth's heart skipped. He could feel it—Ethan's Domain was pushing back, effortlessly.

"That's his Absolute Domain," Gareth said, voice tight. "Our attacks can't even touch him anymore."

"But that's impossible," Howard muttered. "Back at Skywall, we could at least hold our own. We clashed Domains. It wasn't like this…"

Gareth's voice was grim. "That's because… he's evolved. He's stronger now."

Howard's face paled. "Stronger? Already? How the hell—what the hell has he been through?"

But there was no time to wonder.

Ethan's Domain kept expanding, a crushing wave of death and decay. It shoved their powers back, tearing through the fire and psychic force like a blade through silk.

Then he moved.

In a blink, Ethan launched forward—fast, silent, lethal.

The Domain of the Dead surged with him, a spectral force that split the battlefield in two. It sliced through Howard's flames, through Gareth's psychic field, parting them like water.

"He's coming!" Howard's voice was tight, his brow furrowed with tension.

Gareth didn't hesitate. "Serah! You're up—close combat's on you!"

"R-Right!" Serah snapped out of it, her voice a little shaky. For a split second, she'd frozen—just like back then.

Ethan was closing in fast, a blur of death and precision.

Serah clenched her jaw, silver teeth grinding together as she launched herself forward to intercept him.

Her body began to shift mid-sprint—muscles swelling, arms thickening, her physical attributes shifting into overdrive. She was pushing her strength to the limit.

The scene unfolding now was eerily similar to that day beneath The Skywall.

And in her mind, it all came rushing back—the suffocating pressure, the overwhelming power, the sheer terror of facing that Zombie King. It was all still there, burned into her memory.

For a moment, panic crept in.

No. Snap out of it. Focus! she told herself, forcing the fear down, locking her mind into the present.

She knew she couldn't match Ethan in raw power. Not even close. If she tried to go blow-for-blow, she'd be torn apart. So she shifted tactics—defense first, survive the hit.

Ethan leapt.

He soared through the air like a predator, arm cocked back, fist aimed straight for her face.

Serah braced, throwing her arms up to block.

BANG!

The impact was monstrous.

Ethan's body had evolved—his strength now beyond anything she'd faced before. And this wasn't even him using his Blood Rite.

It felt like a star had collided with her.

Her arms cracked under the pressure—snap—bones shattering. Then her body was airborne, flung like a ragdoll.

She tumbled backward, crashing through boulders, skidding across the ground for hundreds of feet. The earth split beneath her, gouged by the force of her landing.

Her once-bulging arm was now shriveled, twisted at an unnatural angle. Jagged white bone jutted out from torn flesh.

Ethan hadn't crippled her—but he'd come damn close.

"God… damn it…" Serah hissed through clenched teeth, her face pale with pain. She was already trying to heal, her body working overtime, but the damage was brutal.

Howard and Gareth watched in grim silence.

Serah—the War Goddess. The Balanced Fighter. The Queen of Melee.

All those titles… and they meant nothing in front of this monster.

"He's too strong…" Howard muttered, awe and dread mixing in his voice.

They hadn't been able to beat Ethan at The Skywall. And now? He'd evolved. Again. Stronger. Faster. Deadlier.

They couldn't win like this.

"This isn't working. We're not gonna make it at this rate," Howard said, voice low but urgent.

Gareth nodded, his expression grim. "Then what do we do?"

Howard didn't answer right away. His eyes flicked toward the far side of the battlefield—toward another clash.

Harren and Tharen were locked in a brutal fight with Bloodveil, one of the few Zombie Kings not steamrolling the humans.

In fact, Bloodveil was getting his ass handed to him.

His Bloodtide Domain had collapsed multiple times, and he'd taken several direct hits. He looked like he was being electrocuted on repeat—twitching, staggering, barely holding it together.

If he weren't a Zombie King, he'd already be dead.

Harren, ever the seasoned veteran, took one glance at Howard's side of the battlefield and immediately saw the problem.

Serah was down an arm. Howard and Gareth were being pushed back. Ethan was tearing through them like a goddamn force of nature.

They needed help. Now.

And Harren had an idea.

"Howard! Serah! Let's switch targets. I'll take the guy in the white shirt!"

...

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