The shrieks of the zombies rang out one after another—but were quickly drowned beneath the thunder of artillery fire.
Aboard the Command Frigate, Garrick stood at the helm, fully in control. The low-level zombies were nothing more than cannon fodder—utterly harmless against their firepower.
"Not a single one worth fighting," Garrick muttered under his breath, hands clasped behind his back.
The others, seeing his calm demeanor, felt their nerves ease a little.
Maybe this mission wasn't going to be as tough as they'd feared.
All they had to do was keep blasting their way forward until that white-shirted Zombie King finally showed up.
Against these low-tier undead, human tech was still king. It was like mowing down cavemen with machine guns—a total one-sided slaughter.
But then, just moments later, a sudden flash of red lit up the horizon—like a meteor streaking across the desolate earth.
