Regressing Through the Apocalypse with the Third Male Lead-Chapter 56: Volume 2 -

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A Level Ten evolved zombie, its appearance deceptively human in size and form. However, its skin was strikingly pale, devoid of any blood, with a disturbing pulsating veins visible beneath the surface. Its eyes, if it possessed them, were likely obscured by shadow, adding to its unsettling aura.

This zombie was usually called "The Coward Zombie," ironically, considering its Level Ten status. Its strength didn’t lie in direct combat but in its uncanny ability to command and control vast zombie hordes. These hordes could consist of any level of zombie, from Level Nine monsters down to the weakest Level One, all completely under its control. It leveraged these hordes as its primary weapon, overwhelming opponents with sheer numbers rather than individual strength.

And once its horde was defeated, it displayed incredible speed, fleeing the scene while simultaneously utilizing its unique abilities to quickly connect with and gather a new horde of undead minions. Its retreat was not a chaotic flight, but a calculated maneuver, a testament to its cunning and strategic mind.

***

"A Level Ten..." Harley breathed, the words hushed, a mixture of awe and dawning dread coloring his voice. His eyes were wide, fixed on the terrifying spectacle before them.

Freyah’s voice cut through the stunned silence. "Well, we can’t attack yet, we should observe first and plan" she stated, her tone firm despite a flicker of apprehension in her eyes.

All eyes turned to her, a mixture of confusion and expectation etched on their faces.

"Why not, panda?" Monica asked, her voice laced with playful curiosity, though a hint of underlying unease was present.

"From what I remember of your post...those things are smart," Gwenette added, her voice low and serious, emphasizing the word "smart" with a knowing nod towards Freyah, a silent communication passing between them. A chill seemed to settle over the group as the gravity of the situation sunk in.

Uncle Thomas, his face grim, spoke quietly, his voice a low rumble. "So...there’s more to it than we’re seeing right now," he murmured, his gaze sweeping over the scene. He then gestured towards Juanito, Pablo, and Enchong, who were already moving with practiced efficiency. "Juanito, Pablo, Enchong—prepare our weapons from the truck," he instructed, his voice carrying an undercurrent of steely determination. The three men nodded without hesitation, their movements sharp and precise as they began readying their weapons, the air thick with anticipation.

"This is the only way towards the coast," Thomas stated again, his gaze locking onto Freyah’s, a silent conversation passing between them. The seriousness of his tone left no room for doubt. The weight of responsibility rested heavily on his shoulders.

"So we really need to face this one" He added,

A barely audible whisper escaped Cheral’s lips, a stark contrast to the tense atmosphere.

"Ohhh, I’m excited,"

she whispered to her twin sister, a nervous thrill mixed with a touch of reckless abandon in her voice. Her sister shot her a look of both exasperation and amusement.

Cheryllyn smirked, mirroring her twin sister’s excited expression, but a touch of apprehension flickered in her eyes. "Shh...quiet," she whispered urgently, her voice barely audible above the rising tension. "Ate Freyah might not even let us fight," she warned, a hint of disappointment coloring her words.

Florence, his voice sharp and urgent, broke through the hushed anticipation.

"Lady Lima..."

He called, catching Freyah’s attention. He pointed towards the dug-out holes flanking the sleeping Level Ten zombie, her finger trembling slightly. The sudden movement startled several of the group.

Freyah’s eyes narrowed, her gaze intense as she assessed the situation. A grim understanding settled on her face.

"Earth Eaters,"

She stated flatly, her voice devoid of emotion, yet the gravity of her words hung heavy in the air. The simple identification spoke volumes about the danger they faced.

Monica and Gwenette gasped, their eyes widening in shock and fear. The implications of Freyah’s words were immediately clear.

"A Level Nine evolved zombie!?" they both exclaimed simultaneously, their voices filled with disbelief and a rising tide of panic. The realization that they were facing not just one, but potentially two high-level threats, sent a wave of icy dread through them.

Freyah knew it instinctively; a Level Ten evolved zombie wouldn’t remain so unnervingly calm if its horde consisted only of ordinary, easily-defeated zombies. This unnatural stillness, this unsettling quietude, spoke of a far more sinister strategy. It was a calculated deception, a predator patiently awaiting its prey, its true strength masked beneath a veneer of deceptive tranquility. The zombie’s calmness was a chilling indication that it had already established a powerful backup, a hidden reserve of undead forces waiting to be unleashed. The air crackled with a palpable sense of impending doom.

Its goal was chillingly simple: to capture and consume the abilities of living beings, accelerating its own evolution. The more powerful its victims, the larger the horde it could control, and the faster its terrifying transformation would progress.

Without further ado, a sense of grim determination settled over the group as everyone began preparing for the impending battle.

"I’ll be the bait, Ate Freyah," Harley volunteered, his voice steady despite the tremor in his hands. He was already geared up, his expression a mixture of grim resolve and a touch of reckless bravado. "I can lure it towards the forest, drawing the undead horde after me," he explained, his plan already meticulously formulated in his mind.

Freyah smiled, a rare, genuine smile that offered a flicker of warmth amidst the impending chaos. She gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder, her touch firm and supportive.

"Yes, His Highness will be waiting for you inside the forest" she said. She then nodded to Florence, a silent acknowledgment of their shared plan. "Your highness, prepare the trap," she instructed, her voice low and confident.

"This will be over soon Lady Lima, we’ll come back as soon as we’re done"

Florence nodded curtly, his face set in a determined expression. He moved with swift, purposeful strides towards the forest, her movements conveying a quiet confidence in his ability to execute his part of the plan.

Freyah turned to Eman, her gaze unwavering. "Eman, you’ll stay with Uncle Thomas and the others in the truck, ready to open fire at a moment’s notice," she instructed, her voice a low command. She gave Eman a brief, almost imperceptible nod, a silent testament to her trust.

Turning to Uncle Thomas, she spoke with quiet authority, her voice laced with trust and a hint of weariness. "Manage them, Uncle," she said, the weight of responsibility evident in her tone. The unspoken understanding between them was a silent promise of unwavering support and cooperation.

Uncle Thomas grinned, a reassuring, slightly weary grin that spoke of years of experience facing danger. He nodded, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

"Yes, don’t worry, we got your back,"

He assured Freyah, his voice a calm counterpoint to the rising tension. He gave her a gentle pat on the back, a gesture of both reassurance and affection, before turning towards the truck, his movements efficient and purposeful.

"WHAT ABOUT US, ATE FREYAH?!"

Cheral and Cherellyn exclaimed in unison, their voices laced with a mixture of impatience and a touch of playful indignation.They stamped their feet, their pouts exaggerated, their youthful energy a stark contrast to the grim determination of the adults. The wait for their role in the plan was clearly testing their patience. Their eagerness to participate was palpable.

Freyah turned to the twins, her face softening into a sweet, almost maternal smile. The warmth in her eyes, however, held a hint of firmness.

"My dears..." she began, her voice gentle yet firm, drawing their attention. The twins, their initial impatience momentarily forgotten, leaned forward eagerly, their eyes shining with anticipation.

"You two are going to the truck and sit there obediently," Freyah chuckled, a light, teasing chuckle that belied the seriousness of the situation. The twins, however, were not amused. Their protests erupted immediately.

"No way!" Cheral exclaimed, her voice laced with outrage.

"Not fair, Ate Freyah!" Cherellyn added, her pout deepening.

"Yeah! Let me fight too!" Cheral insisted, her frustration growing.

"I’ll beat one of the earth eaters!!" Cherellyn declared her bravado a thin veil over her underlying fear.

Cheral and Cherellyn’s protests escalated, their voices rising in a crescendo of frustrated pleas and playful threats.

Freyah gently hushed them, her voice calm yet firm, effectively silencing their protests.

"You two don’t get it," she explained, her tone softening as she addressed their concerns.

"You’re both our secret weapon, and you’ll be needed when things get really intense,"

Freyah added, her words carefully chosen to appeal to their sense of importance. She patted their heads affectionately, the gesture a comforting reassurance. The twins paused, their initial frustration replaced by thoughtful consideration. The idea of being a "secret weapon" clearly appealed to their sense of adventure and self-importance. Their initial pout quickly faded, replaced by a thoughtful expression.

"Ohhhh," they both grinned, their eyes sparkling with newfound understanding and a touch of delighted pride. The weight of responsibility, however, was subtly present in their expressions, replacing their earlier impatience with a quiet determination. freewebnøvel_com

"Yes, now go to the truck," Freyah said, giving them a gentle but firm push towards the vehicle, urging them to obey her instructions. A hint of amusement played on her lips as she watched them reluctantly but obediently comply.

Then, turning her attention back to Harley, she asked, her voice low and serious.

"Ready?"

Harley nodded, his determination unwavering. His eyes shone with a mixture of fear and excitement.

"I’m ready, Ate Freyah,"

***

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