I Am a Hero With A Hundred Abilities-Chapter 67: Ch 66. Prime’s Regret

Ethan sat in stunned silence.

His eyes were fixed on the trait description as it hovered before him in soft, glowing letters. He read it once—twice—then a third time just to be sure.

Soul Bind: Hunter's Fusion – Allows Gray and Ethan to fuse, creating a terrifying hybrid with exponential power amplification and shared traits.

He muttered to himself, voice low with disbelief, "No… this is… this is not a normal trait."

Ethan leaned back slightly, still reading it again and again, as though his mind was trying to reject the possibility.

"Isn't this too much for a new trait?"

Most of Gray's previous traits were built for Gray alone—they enhanced his body, his attacks, his speed, his presence.

Ethan was never factored into them, not directly. But this? This was different. This wasn't just a tool—it was a bridge between them.

He turned his eyes to the window, watching the battlefield outside.

Zombie Gray and zombie Ethan were still locked in a brutal, rhythmic hunt. They cut down zombies tirelessly, almost mechanically—but it yielded no points they had reached the threshold.

With a sharp exhale, Ethan raised his hand and triggered the detonation.

Outside, the two zombie versions exploded in synchronized blasts, taking down a few surrounding Rank 1 zombies with them in one final, useful act of destruction.

"Thanks for your service," Ethan muttered with a smirk.

He then made two new proxies—fresh versions of himself and Gray, built with their current strength levels.

The goal? Test the fusion. See what happened when the new trait was triggered by the undead.

The two zombie versions stood side by side, ready. Ethan issued the fusion command through the interface.

But just as the process began, a sharp chime echoed in his mind, followed by a red-tinted system prompt:

> [Fusion Failed: Lack of Souls Detected.]

Ethan's eyes narrowed. Then he sighed.

"Yeah… that's fair. They're undead, after all. So they don't have souls."

He turned to Gray, the real Gray, standing beside him with a low rumble of anticipation in his chest. Ethan gave him a serious nod.

"Buddy… looks like our vacation's over."

Gray let out a low, excited yelp, sparks of lightning briefly crackling across his fur.

Ethan grinned and rolled his shoulders. "But first, let's test that fusion for real."

What happened next wasn't to be shown—not yet. It was a secret for another time, but when the fusion was complete and Ethan returned to his normal form, his breath was shallow and his eyes wide with exhilaration.

He looked at Gray, stunned and amazed. "Gray… your new trait is so broken."

Gray didn't bark or growl—he just stared back, just as shocked.

There was something new in his eyes. Something wild. Something powerful.

Ethan smiled slowly, a wide grin full of mischief and fire.

"Gray.... looks like we've got some Primes to slay."

Gray gave a low growl of agreement, then nodded.

Together, the Prime Beast and his Master stepped out of the cabin—not as expendable zombies, but as two living monsters ready to shake the Zone.

****

At the heart of its dark domain, the Prime stood silently, tendrils of aura writhing through the stagnant air like storm clouds frozen in time. freeweɓnovel.cøm

Its throne, formed of jagged bone and pulsing sinew, pulsed faintly with dread as streams of data and vision flowed into its mind—direct feeds from the countless eyes of the undead it had dispatched to kill Ethan.

It watched… and watched… and watched.

But what it saw didn't make sense.

The undead it had sent to annihilate the boy were being slaughtered—by the very person they were meant to kill.

Again and again. And each time the boy fell, he returned.

Not through necromancy. Not through mutation. But through something else entirely—something it couldn't quantify.

"These are not just zombies…" the Prime whispered, voice like wind dragging across metal. "But if he's dead… how?"

It had assumed Ethan had perished and left behind a cursed fragment that somehow kept replicating his consciousness into undead copies.

It had never even considered that the boy could still be alive.

Its eyes narrowed.

"If not for the threat of the other Primes," it hissed, "I would've gone myself and ended this anomaly."

Then, just as the thought faded, new feed surged through its mind—fresh data from the zone outside the cabin.

The undead watchers had just witnessed the explosion of Zombie Ethan and Zombie Gray. Their charred remains left behind nothing. And so the horde had waited, prepared for the next wave of puppets to appear.

But this time… it was different.

The Prime leaned forward, tension writhing through its aura.

Two figures stepped from the cabin. Alive, whole and breathing.

Ethan and Gray.

The Prime's vision blurred for a moment, reprocessing the feed. But it didn't change. Ethan was alive. His wolf, Gray, now crackled with visible arcs of power. There was no rot or decay present. Just the breath of two living beings.

"How…?" the Prime muttered, voice colder than the void. "He's alive? But… he died. I saw it. That… shouldn't be possible."

The thought of Ethan being truly alive had never occurred to it. Not once. The repeated returns made it believe he was a cursed echo, some bizarre phenomenon of the zone which was why it wanted to understand the power.

But now, as it watched the real Ethan and Gray calmly survey the battlefield, a familiar unease crept into its core.

That posture…

The way they stood…

They weren't rushing.

They were watching—with confidence, with dominance.

The same way it watched lesser beings before feeding on them.

"No…" the Prime whispered. "That's how a Prime watches prey…"

Before it could process the revelation, the feed erupted in white—Gray's horn crackling with thunder before a lightning storm exploded from his body.

The sky roared and the earth trembled.

When the light faded, all of its soldiers were dead.

All… except one.

A single zombie, barely clinging to life, lay on the ground, its feed still transmitting—albeit at a low, tilted angle.

Its scorched flesh twitched, and its vision was fragmented. But it still worked.

Then came the sound.

Footsteps.

Measured and Intentional.

Ethan walked into frame, his shadow stretching over the dying creature.

He crouched, lifting the undead's chin to his eye level.

The Prime stiffened.

"I know you can see me," Ethan said, voice calm—too calm.

"But it doesn't matter."

He turned the zombie's head slightly, giving the Prime a clear view of the battlefield—dozens of charred corpses lying lifeless in the dirt, smoke rising in curling tendrils.

"Hope you like what I've done with your people," Ethan said with a casual smirk. "Because now…"

He turned the zombie's gaze back to his own blazing eyes.

"I'm coming for you next."

Bang.

The feed went dark.

The Prime stood motionless.

For the first time in its long and merciless existence, something unfamiliar coiled inside its heart—a slow, creeping sensation that gripped its core.

It was fear.

It took a trembling breath.

"Who the hell…" the Prime whispered, voice cracking.

"...did I mess with?"