THE ZOMBIE SYSTEM-Chapter 37: Tobias vs Leon Contd

The explosion lit the sky in a jagged pulse of red.

Leon’s body smashed through reinforced glass, tumbling through the air before slamming into the pavement with a sickening crunch. Concrete cracked beneath him. Dust and debris scattered like shrapnel.

For one breathless moment, the world was quiet.

Then—chaos.

Civilians screamed and ran, some diving behind parked transports, others pulled back by emergency Hunter responders as mana barriers bloomed to life around the scene.

Captain Riven Darse shouted into his comm, "Civilian zone breached! Level five threat—non-engagement protocol. Lock down the block!"

A ripple in the air answered him.

Tobias Virell landed like an executioner. His boots cratered the asphalt. Streetlamps exploded from the pressure wave, vehicles flipped, and windows shattered across half the boulevard.

The rune-lined blades in his hands pulsed—still dripping with corrupted mana.

Smoke hissed around him as he raised one shortblade and pointed it toward Leon.

"You should’ve stayed buried."

Leon pushed himself up from the rubble, shoulder torn, coat blackened. His mouth was set in a tight line, blood on his lips.

From above, the Warrior Commander General dropped like thunder, swinging a shield the size of a car door—intercepting Tobias mid-stride.

Steel screamed.

Tobias twisted—drove both blades straight into the summon’s chest and roared as his mana detonated point-blank.

The shockwave flattened half the street.

Fire bloomed skyward.

Pedestrian signs twisted. Light poles crashed into the road. A pulse of dark heat rolled out across the intersection.

The Warrior Commander didn’t fall.

It erupted.

A violent burst of light and necrotic magic tore the summon apart, shards of cursed armor flying in all directions.

Leon felt it in his chest—the rupture of a bond forged through dozens of battles. His first summon—gone.

He didn’t look away.

His hand curled around his gun, knuckles pale.

The ground beneath his boots cracked again, not from magic—

—but from something far simpler.

Rage.

The Sorcerer General hovered behind Leon like a grim wraith, its runes pulsing with unstable, volatile light. A circle of shifting glyphs spiraled outward from its skeletal hands, lines of ghostfire burning across the street.

Above them, the sky dimmed—not from clouds, but from something else. Time itself seemed to hesitate.

A sharp crack rang out as the spell completed.

[Soul Cage Seal: Active]

A ripple tore through the air like glass warping under heat.

Tobias froze mid-step.

Locked inside the temporal seal, his form flickered—caught between movement and stillness, his power suppressed, his body slowed. Not paralyzed, but held. Trapped in a perfect, silent cage.

He bared his teeth inside the field, every muscle straining against the shimmering walls.

"You think this stops me?" Tobias growled, his voice distorted through the barrier, low and broken. "You think this is enough?"

Leon didn’t answer.

He stepped forward, boots crunching over scorched asphalt and broken steel. Smoke curled around his legs like a low fog. His coat trailed behind him in tatters. One eye was nearly swollen shut.

But his grip on the gun was steady.

Hunters on the perimeter stopped breathing.

Fire crews paused mid-step.

Even the wind seemed to still.

Leon raised the mana gun. Its chamber glowed with a dull blue light—cold, surgical. No flare. No theatrics. Just the weight of inevitability.

He stepped within range.

Tobias screamed something from within the seal—words drowned by the containment field, fists hammering at invisible walls.

Leon didn’t blink.

Didn’t falter.

He spoke only one word.

"Judgment."

The blast was quiet.

No explosion. No thunderous impact.

Just a single shot—sharp, clean, final.

It passed through the Soul Cage like a scalpel through silk.

Tobias’s head jerked back. The light left his eyes before his body hit the ground.

Then, the seal unraveled.

Silence swept over the battlefield.

The world, for one full second, was still.

The man who had ruled ARES with fear and gold... was gone.

And in his place, the last trace of smoke curled upward toward the ruined tower.

Leon lowered the gun and exhaled once, long and slow.

Only the sound of Leon’s boots shifting against broken stone as he stepped closer.

He stood over the corpse that had once ruled ARES with iron authority.

Tobias Virell: warlord, killer, guildmaster.

Now just a body cooling on the battlefield.

And yet...

A new sound bloomed in Leon’s mind.

A chime—deep, ancient, not the usual clean digital ping.

[System Notification: Corpse Eligible for Resurrection]

[Would you like to convert Tobias Virell into a General-Class Undead?]

Leon didn’t hesitate.

"Yes."

The system pulsed.

[Converting...]

The ground beneath the corpse glowed with deep violet runes, spreading in jagged sigils that looked torn from some forgotten language. Aether leaked upward, curling around Tobias’s corpse like smoke winding in reverse.

The Hunter Association squad watching from the rooftops tensed.

"What is he doing?" Gilda whispered, eyes wide.

Captain Riven Darse didn’t answer.

He just watched.

The body twitched.

Then again.

Fingers flexed.

Tobias’s spine cracked—loud and raw—as the body contorted unnaturally, mana forcing muscle and bone back into form.

His eyes snapped open—now burning crimson.

The sigils burned into his flesh.

The transformation was complete.

Tobias Virell, former guildmaster of ARES, stood once more.

But not as himself.

[System Notification: New General Zombie Acquired – Tobias Virell]

[Classification: Fallen Champion]

[Abilities Retained: Blood Channeling Arts, Dual Blade Hypermobility, Leadership Aura (Now Corrupted)]

Leon looked into the undead’s eyes—no rage, no arrogance. Only obedience.

He gave no command.

The new undead simply turned and fell in line behind him, head bowed.

A once-feared tyrant, now another weapon in Leon’s arsenal.

Just another soldier.

The crowd watching didn’t speak.

Couldn’t.

For the first time in decades, the city had witnessed a reversal so complete, so absolute, it didn’t feel real.

ARES was gone.

Tobias was dead.

And Leon Graves had turned his enemy into something worse than a corpse.

He made him follow.

The air around Leon was scorched and still.

Then the wind changed—laced with pressure.

Dozens of mana signatures flared at once as the Association’s elite swept into the ruined square, encircling him with military precision. Hunters poured in from all angles—runeweavers, shield-breakers, kinetic vaulters, all armored in white and silver regulation gear.

A dozen spells primed. A dozen weapons raised.

At the center stood Leon Graves.

His coat shredded. Face bruised. Blood on his lip.

But his eyes calm. His stance unshaken.

The undead behind him stood like sentinels—Bladewraith, Sorcerer General, and the newly risen Tobias Virell, his glowing crimson eyes catching the light like coals in fog.

Then the crowd parted.

A new presence descended from above.

A sleek aerial transport hovered overhead, engines humming low. From within stepped a tall woman draped in navy robes lined with golden thread. Her aura hit the ground before she did.

Saria Velstein. Director of National Guild Affairs.

She walked forward slowly, each step deliberate, heels cracking against the broken street.

"Leon Graves," she said, voice amplified through mana. Cold. Imposing.

"You are under arrest for the mass slaughter of guild members and reckless endangerment of civilian life."

No anger. No drama. Just law.

Leon looked her dead in the eye.

Then raised his hands.

No resistance. No outburst. Just quiet compliance.

His summons didn’t move. Not even Tobias.

The undead generals remained perfectly still—bound not by leash, but will.

The Association officers swarmed in.

Mana chains—thick and heavy—locked around Leon’s wrists. A suppression collar was fixed to his neck, dampening his mana flow to a crawl. Standard procedure for high-risk criminals.

He was marched through the ruined streets, flanked by armored enforcers.

Civilians watched from behind shield lines. Some in awe. Some in fear.

One hunter murmured, "He’s really letting them take him?"

Another replied, "Does he even care?"

But Leon said nothing.

Not in the prison transport.

Not when they dragged him through the reinforced gates of the Association’s central command.

Not during the intake scan.

And not when he sat across from the interrogators under reinforced crystal light.

They asked questions.

He offered silence.

"Why did you kill Tobias Virell?"

Silence.

"Did you provoke the ARES Guild?"

Silence.

"Are you aware of the civilian casualties?"

Silence.

Hours passed.

He never spoke.

Not a word.

Not until something changed.

And it did.

Because just as the lead investigator opened her mouth again, the room trembled.

Every Association member in the facility froze as the sound of a notification—one they’d never heard before—flashed across their HUDs.

[System Notification: World Event Triggered]

[Abyss Breach Detected]

[Six Abyssal Generals En Route – Estimated Time of Arrival: 72 Hours]

[World Designation: Earth – Priority Status: DEFEND]

The words glowed in red.

And Leon finally raised his eyes.

His voice, when it came, was low. 𝒻𝑟𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝑛𝘰𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝘤𝘰𝘮

"You’re all looking at the wrong enemy."