Ethan and Miles spent almost a full day before they finally managed to create the two Winged Clan experts into thralls.

Ethan named the new one Flyboy.

At first, Ethan had called the female Winged Clan captain Ava. But after hearing the Winged Clan call her by her real name—Aerisara—he stopped using the placeholder and just called her Aerisara.

By now, Ethan had three thralls under his control, and he was basically at his limit. Any more and he wouldn’t be able to manage them.

Three thralls:

Flyboy was Tier 29. After being created into a thrall, he could handle a normal peak Tier 29 without a problem.

Aerisara had been peak Tier 29 even while alive. Now, as a thrall, she had the strength to fight someone who’d just broken into Stage S.

As for Dopey... Ethan still couldn’t pin down its exact strength. It was like it scaled to whatever it was facing—because no matter who stepped up, Dopey solved the problem with one punch.

And its body was absurdly tough. So far, Ethan hadn’t seen anyone crack its physical defense.

If Ethan had to guess, Dopey was above Stage S... but probably not quite Stage SS.

Last time, when it faced hundreds of Winged Clan experts, it had looked—just barely—a little strained.

Maybe control-type skills just happened to counter it.

Without all those control skills, it would’ve still been one-punching them into the dirt.

Overall, out of the three, Dopey was the one that made Ethan feel safest.

With all three thralls backing him, he wasn’t afraid of a normal Stage S expert anymore.

Miles, meanwhile, was practically glowing after getting a Tier 28 thrall.

He tried to act like he didn’t care, but come on—who didn’t want a trump card?

The memory of those grotesque humanoid monsters pushing right up to their doorstep was still fresh.

If he’d had a thrall like this back then, Blizzard wouldn’t have died.

Blizzard’s death still hurt everyone, but it cut deepest for Miles. He’d been the one who ordered Blizzard and the others to fight. That guilt never really left him.

So after that, Miles had taken extra care of the remaining five white-furred apes.

And to their credit, they hadn’t disappointed.

With Ethan feeding them high-Tier corpses nonstop, they’d become Fallen Star City’s strongest combat power outside the Fallen Star Squad.

They were now at peak Tier 23, all of them pushing for a breakthrough.

They were similar to Dopey in some ways—no ranged abilities. But every time they leveled up, their strength and defense jumped hard.

At peak Tier 23, they could go toe-to-toe with a Tier 24 expert.

But just like Dopey, they were also vulnerable to control.

After finishing the thralls, Ethan didn’t stay in Fallen Star City long. He gave Miles a quick set of instructions: once Sean and the others got out, send them to Atlas City Compound.

He also told Skinny Pete to use the Zombie King—the one with Absolute Dominion—to start pulling the zombie tide toward Atlas City.

By the time Skinny Pete had brought that Zombie King back, it had already gathered close to a hundred million zombies.

Every zombie they encountered along the way got absorbed into its swarm.

That Zombie King’s Absolute Dominion felt like it had been born for one purpose: controlling zombies.

Even the ones that had regained awareness didn’t resist. They stayed obediently inside the marching mass.

At one point, they’d even run into a Tier 20 zombie. Skinny Pete had been ready to take it out on the spot.

But the moment that Tier 20 approached the small-bodied Zombie King, it lowered its head like a servant.

That was when Skinny Pete really understood what they’d captured.

They hadn’t just caught something useful.

They’d hit the jackpot.

Right now, those zombies were packed into the cities near Fallen Star City, filling streets until they looked like a moving ocean of bodies.

The first time Fallen Star City’s squads saw that tide, they thought it was a full-on zombie siege. People nearly pissed themselves sprinting back to report it to Miles.

When they found out it was under Skinny Pete’s control, the shock was even worse.

For the moment, the zombies weren’t causing trouble around Fallen Star City.

Which meant they were perfect.

If Atlas City was about to become a battlefield, then those zombies could go first—cheap, endless cannon fodder.

Ethan had already decided what he’d do if the Winged Clan showed up in force.

He’d send the zombie tide in first to bleed them dry, and then he’d take Dopey, Flyboy, and Aerisara on a straight decapitation run.

As long as they could take down the one called Aeralon, they’d still have a thread of hope.

According to the Winged Clan experts he’d interrogated, Aeralon had already reached Stage S.

Ethan hadn’t wanted to poke something like that.

But if the guy came knocking at his front door, then "don’t poke it" stopped being an option.

He trusted Dopey. As long as someone—anyone—could stall the rest of the Winged Clan, then in a clean, straight fight against a Stage S, Dopey should be able to handle it.

By now, the Fallen Star Guard should’ve reached Atlas City Compound. Add in a hundred million controlled zombies as cannon fodder... they ought to be able to stall a few thousand Winged Clan experts, at least for a while.

After giving his orders, Ethan stepped onto his hovering daggers and headed for Atlas City Compound. On the way, he pulled out his phone and called Chris.

Half an hour earlier...

While Ethan and Miles were in the most critical stage of creating thralls, inside the Atlas City Emergency Operations Center—

Maxwell, the compound’s top leadership, and Chris were all gathered in one place, faces grim enough to turn the room cold.

Just moments ago, the Satellite Operations Control Center had flagged something massive entering Atlas Federation airspace—crossing into Windora State.

A huge bird.

Not long after that, another alert hit.

A massive formation of Winged Clan experts had also entered Windora State.

Conservative estimate: no fewer than two thousand.

The room sank into dead silence, like the air itself had been sucked out.

They didn’t know what the giant bird’s relationship to the Winged Clan was—enemy, ally, coincidence.

But the number two thousand landed like a sledgehammer on everyone’s chest.

A dozen Winged Clan had already turned Atlas City into chaos.

Two thousand?

Just thinking about it made people’s hands go numb.

Ethan had warned them other Winged Clan might come—but nobody expected it to happen this fast.

"What do we do... General Kane?" one of the officials asked.

Everyone turned to Maxwell.

Maxwell’s expression shifted several times, like he was swallowing something bitter. Then he looked straight at Chris, voice hard.

"Chris. You take the Fallen Star Guard and go back to Fallen Star City immediately. Tell Ethan to abandon Fallen Star City. Take the core personnel and disappear—hide as far away as possible."

He leaned forward. "With your strength, and with the Flamebirds, you can go anywhere. I’m confident the Winged Clan won’t be able to find you."

Chris shook his head. "Ethan told me to stay here. I’m not leaving my post."

Chris had always been the one who followed Ethan’s orders the most strictly. To the point it sometimes felt unreasonable.

Maxwell’s patience frayed. "Are you kidding me? Chris, look at the situation. Two thousand Winged Clan experts. We can’t fight that. If you stay, you’re just throwing your life away."

"I’m waiting for Ethan to come back," Chris said, still unmoved.

Maxwell’s voice sharpened with anxiety. "That’s the problem—we can’t reach him. We can’t reach Miles either."

"They’re busy right now," Chris said. He knew exactly why. Ethan and Miles were almost certainly in the middle of creating thralls. "Give it a little time."

"We don’t have time." Maxwell’s jaw clenched. "At their speed, they’ll be here soon."

Then he slammed the order down.

"You’re taking the Fallen Star Guard back to Fallen Star City right now. Atlas City doesn’t need you anymore."

"General Kane—" someone started, wanting to say more.

Maxwell shot them a look so sharp it shut the whole room down instantly.

Chris met Maxwell’s anger head-on, calm to the point of infuriating. "General Kane, don’t waste your breath. I only take orders from Ethan."

Then, finally, he gave an inch—just barely.

"Don’t worry. If it really gets to the point we can’t resist, we’ll leave."

"But right now, we don’t even know the full situation. I’m staying here until Ethan returns."