Ethan had already pegged Bloodveil as a cautious and calculating type—paranoid, good at hiding his true strength, and capable of commanding troops with surprising efficiency. The guy definitely had the makings of a warlord.
And just like that, their little Backstabbing Alliance was officially born.
Without another word, Ethan turned and vanished into the shadows, his figure fading like smoke.
"…Creepy-ass ability," Bloodveil muttered under his breath, then leapt upward, bouncing between the stone walls until he reached the top of the chasm.
The battle was over by now. All around, zombies were cleaning up the battlefield, scavenging what they could.
"Boss, did you catch the Lord of the Carrion Reavers?" a nearby Zombie King asked, jogging over.
"Nope."
"Huh? It got away? Want us to head down and search again?" the zombie offered.
"No need," Bloodveil replied flatly.
