Wave after wave, they seemed endless.
However, the Southern Army’s biggest headache wasn’t these zombies. Though numerous, their combat strength was limited. They lacked superpowers, possessing only slightly enhanced speed or strength, but they were still defeatable.
Rather, it was the mutated zombies mixed in among the common ones that were the most difficult to deal with.
Some of the mutated zombies were incredibly fast, their attacks on the soldiers impossible to fully defend against. In the blink of an eye, several men could be scratched, and out of those, one might become infected with the virus—a tricky situation. Others possessed immense strength; any soldier they caught would end up with broken arms and legs, or even be torn in half at the waist. Still others had bodies so tough they were impervious to blades, and even superpower attacks had little effect. Then there were the zombies that could even use superpowers...
The various strange forms these mutated zombies took made life utterly miserable for the Southern Army.
Initially, when the number of these mutated zombies was still low, they could hold them back by relying on their superior numbers.
But recently, the number of mutated zombies had been growing, and new varieties had even appeared—like ones that could turn invisible. A moment of carelessness was all it took for one to slip among the soldiers, instantly causing mass casualties.
The deputy division commander leading the Southern Army, Chad Yancy, was one of Keith Preston’s subordinates. He was a dutiful and straightforward man, but he’d been worn down lately. Watching his men fall one by one was tearing him apart.
When Marcus Monroe finally arrived with his troops, Chad had already received a private message from Keith Preston, instructing him to defer to Marcus’s command for this battle. Though he felt a sting of injustice, his frustration eased when Marcus, without any hesitation, immediately had his own men relieve Chad’s exhausted soldiers.
At a critical juncture like this, he didn’t stand on ceremony. He gave Marcus Monroe a detailed, no-holds-barred briefing on the battle situation, then watched as Marcus led his men forward to confront the zombies.
Marcus Monroe, however, had received intelligence on the mutated zombies long before, so he had already begun formulating his battle plan on the way.
He assigned the Southern Army soldiers from the Second Division to handle the common zombies.
Meanwhile, he divided the three hundred men he’d brought with him into small squads, scattering them throughout the formation to specifically engage and tie down the mutated zombies.
Upon spotting one, these squads would immediately converge and attack as a single unit.
Frankly, the men he’d brought—whether they were from his own base or the elites from other small bases—were all accustomed to this kind of carnage. They could completely ignore the zombie corpses littering the ground and the severed limbs the Southern Army hadn’t had time to clear away, allowing them to focus solely on the battle.
The Southern Army soldiers, on the other hand, were not new to combat, but they had never witnessed a scene of this magnitude.
A single disemboweled corpse or a severed limb simply couldn’t compare to the sheer scale of the massive corpse piles.
The acrid stench of blood made some of them want to vomit. Their courage faltered before the fight even began.
Marcus Monroe frowned at the sight. He called over a trusted subordinate and gave a few orders.
As a large horde of zombies shambled forward, they spotted a gigantic one among them. It was nearly twice the height of a common zombie and incredibly muscular. It advanced like a moving iron tower, seeming to make the very ground tremble with each step.
The zombie was also exceptionally hideous.
Its face and body were covered in grotesque, bluish-black boils, like a toad’s skin, that seemed to ooze pus.
Sure enough, many of the Southern Army soldiers from the Second Division were terrified. Some, despite being a good distance away from the giant zombie, scrambled to turn and run.
At that moment, the special assault squads Marcus Monroe had designated had already advanced and surrounded the giant zombie. They were assailing it with various superpowers, probing for the most effective way to attack.
But right then, some soldiers tried to desert.
Several of Marcus Monroe’s trusted men were positioned at the edges of the formation. Without an ounce of mercy, they met every soldier who turned to run with a swift strike of their blades.
Heads rolled a long way, instantly scaring the wavering soldiers so badly their legs gave out.
Then, Marcus Monroe’s clear, cold voice rang out, "Deserters will be executed on sight!"
A chill went through the Southern Army soldiers as they realized the truth: retreat meant certain death, while advancing at least offered a chance to live.
They saw how the elites from the smaller bases met the zombies head-on, their ferocity unmarred by fear. Their teamwork was seamless, and in the blink of an eye, they had already cleared out a number of common zombies. The Southern Army soldiers, at least, didn’t have to face the mutated ones directly. If they gave it their all, they might actually stand a chance!
With that realization, they finally steeled themselves for the fight.
Fueled by a burning hatred—though for whom, they weren’t sure—they unleashed it all on the zombies. For a moment, the unit actually looked heroic.
Having made an example of the deserters, Marcus Monroe wasted no more words on them.
Some of the mutated zombies were indeed troublesome, too much for the three squad leaders he’d brought to handle alone. Naturally, he had to enter the fray himself!
’This first battle must be a victory!’
In this battle, everyone—whether they had seen Marcus Monroe fight before or not—was in for an eye-opening experience.
To most people, a Ninth Rank Superpower User was a level of power they could never hope to reach in their entire lives.
White blades of light, like divine weapons falling from the heavens, rained down upon the mutated zombies.
The giant zombie, which everyone had considered the toughest to handle, began to show signs of weakening not long after Marcus Monroe joined the assault.
No matter how tough its skin was, its agility was no match for Marcus Monroe’s. While it was pinned down by the others’ attacks, Marcus unleashed several blades at once, focusing solely on its neck. After a few rounds of slicing, even the hardest substance in the world would have been gashed open.
And this zombie was far from being that tough.
It grew increasingly overwhelmed, until finally, in Marcus Monroe’s last volley, it became a headless corpse. Its massive body collapsed with a tremendous THUD!
And with its fall, the other zombies seemed to consciously begin a slow retreat.
The first battle was a success!
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