"This..." Bloodveil was momentarily speechless, stunned by what he just heard. "You're clearly trying to drag me down with you, aren't you?"

"Yep. What else did you expect?" Wraithshade didn't even try to hide it. As a proud member of the "Backstabbing Alliance," if they were in this mess together, there was no way he was going to let Bloodveil walk away clean.

If the Zombie Kings from Heartland came knocking, someone else was definitely going down with him.

Bloodveil scowled, clearly annoyed, and turned to Ethan for backup. "What do you think? Am I really supposed to go toe-to-toe with the Heartland Zombie Kings?"

"Not yet," Ethan said calmly. He never fought battles he wasn't sure he could win. And if it came down to a full-on war with the Heartland Zombie Kings, the odds weren't in their favor. The "Backstabbing Alliance" just didn't have the firepower. It'd be a bloodbath—and not the good kind.

Besides, Ethan had something else on his mind. The mystery of the Star Map tablet still hadn't been cracked. According to PhD's calculations, the artifact was tied to an ancient civilization—possibly from Xenorift. It might be worth heading there first to investigate.

"You two should lay low for now. Find somewhere to hide out until things cool down," Ethan told the two undead.

Wraithshade thought for a moment, then nodded. "That's doable. North of Frostmere is the Endless Sea—thousands of islands out there. I can hole up on one of them. No way the Heartland Kings find me in that mess."

"Good call," Ethan agreed.

With all the marine life around, there'd be no shortage of blood and flesh. Definitely a solid place to disappear for a while.

Bloodveil mulled it over. He had a few hideouts in Eastreach. If he didn't want to go head-to-head with the Heartland Kings, hiding was really the only option. "Fine. But what about you? Aren't you gonna lay low too?"

"I've got a place I need to be. Some business to take care of," Ethan replied.

"Oh..." Bloodveil responded, eyeing him sideways. This guy wasn't just tough—he was stubborn as hell too.

Still, as a 'friendly' ally, he didn't call him out on it.

And so, the three Zombie Kings reached a decision: avoid direct conflict for now. When the time was right, they'd settle the score with the Heartland Kings once and for all.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the region, the elite undead unit known as "The Saber Corps"—three thousand top-tier zombies—and five hundred mech-operating specialists had arrived at Clearwater Lake. They were already diving in, hunting down the rich, meaty creatures in the water and feasting on the premium flesh.

As the core combat force, they'd earned this. It was their reward for the battle.

"Sprout, I'm craving fish," rumbled Bulldozer, a hulking brute of a zombie.

"On it!" Sprout replied. The vines around him writhed like a nest of serpents, slithering into the lake.

Mutated fish swimming below were skewered one after another, then flung high into the air.

Dozens of massive fish soared skyward, splashing down like a rainstorm of seafood.

Watching the scene, Bulldozer felt a wave of déjà vu.

Back in L.A., he, Laura, and Sprout had guarded the river together. Sprout had used the exact same trick to catch them dinner.

Now, years had passed. Everything had changed. They stood on the alien world of Originis, who knew how far from Earth.

And the road ahead was still long, still full of battles.

Bulldozer picked up a fish and tore into it with his massive jaws. The meat was tender and fresh, but his eyes held a flicker of nostalgia.

Laura glanced over and noticed something off. "You okay?"

"...I miss home," Bulldozer said bluntly.

"Huh??" Laura blinked, staring at him like he'd grown a second head. This big lug... actually missed home?

Then again, maybe it was part of his evolution. He was on the verge of becoming a Voidborn Undying, after all...

Not far away, the four zombies of the "Overlord Squad"—Big Ears and his crew—were also chowing down on the top-tier meat, enjoying the perks of rolling with the elite.

Shrimpy had found a local delicacy in Clearwater Lake: massive freshwater crawfish, each one the size of a grown man's forearm.

He didn't even bother peeling them. Just popped one whole into his mouth, crunched down a few times, and swallowed it with a satisfied gulp.

The rich, juicy flavor lingered on his tongue, and he let out a contented sigh.

"Now that hit the spot..."

It had been months since Shrimpy last tasted shrimp.

Big Ears, sitting nearby, nodded thoughtfully. "This kind of feast doesn't come easy. Gotta appreciate it while it lasts."

"Doesn't come easy? You didn't exactly break a sweat out there," Locomotive shot back.

Big Ears tilted his head up at a dramatic forty-five-degree angle, gazing into the sky with a wistful look.

"What do you mean I didn't? I've been fighting nonstop to get here, same as you."

"..."

After a full-on feast, the undead were stuffed and satisfied.

The Battle of Frostmere had officially come to an end. The mission to take out Abyssion and Nyssara was a clean success—heads rolled, objectives met.

With that, Ethan, Bloodveil, and Wraithshade went their separate ways.

The alliance of three Zombie Kings split.

Wraithshade boarded his aircraft, flanked by his loyal brothers-in-arms, Bloodleech and Hexarm. The trio took off, heading north toward the Endless Sea.

The sunset painted the sky in hues of burnt orange, and the aircraft quickly shrank into a tiny black speck before vanishing beyond the horizon.

"Well, I'm off too, Ethan," Bloodveil said, biting down on the words. There was a trace of melancholy in his voice.

Ethan gave him a once-over. "Yeah. Go on."

"We'll see each other again, right?" Bloodveil wasn't exactly sentimental, but after what they'd pulled off—killing Nyssara and pissing off the Overlords of Heartland—he knew Necroterra was about to plunge into chaos.

If Ethan didn't make it through whatever came next, Bloodveil knew damn well he wouldn't stand a chance alone against the Heartland Overlords. So yeah... he was worried.

Ethan shrugged it off. "Worry about yourself. Just stay alive."

"Yeah... got it." Bloodveil nodded hard, then turned and boarded the old, fish-stinking bulk freighter.

The engines roared to life, coughing smoke and fire. The rusty ship groaned and creaked as it lifted off, wobbling in the air before finally stabilizing and flying off into the distance.

Ethan tilted his head back, watching it disappear. "Alright. Let's head home."

"Yes, sir!"

Behind him, Laura and the other Zombie Kings responded in unison, rallying the thousand-strong elite undead force as they boarded the sleek, high-tech Command Cruiser.

The massive ship lifted off, casting a long shadow over the battlefield before shooting into the sky like a streak of light.

Below, the land was a wasteland of carnage—piles of mangled corpses, their crystal cores and Neurocores ripped out, the air thick with the stench of rot and blood.

Clearwater Lake, once pristine, was now dyed a deep crimson. Sprout's slaughter had wiped out most of the aquatic life. The water was still, thick with gore.

In the wake of Ethan's departure, all that remained was devastation.

...

The journey back to Southvale from Frostmere was long—just like the trip there, it would take several days.

But the fallout from the Battle of Frostmere was already spreading like wildfire.

In the days that followed, no new shipments of blood and flesh arrived in Heartland. That alone was enough to raise red flags for the Overlords of Heartland.

They sent scouts to investigate.

What they found when they arrived... was a massacre of epic proportions.

...

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