Chapter Eight: Retribution in This Life and the Scapegoat

"All units, prepare for combat..."

Havilton lost all his usual grace and composure as a leader. The Ironwing Eagle before them displayed clear signs of sixth-stage mutation—its exterior was entirely metallic, its defenses visibly formidable. And beasts mutated six times often possessed a host of troublesome abilities. Fighting such creatures was like opening a mystery box; a sudden, unexpected power could easily cost you your life.

Even the battle-hardened First Defense Army of Giant Tree Star would never willingly provoke a sixth-stage mutant beast on Zombie Star.

But this situation was far from ordinary.

As the Ironwing Eagle dove, commotion erupted in the dense forest ahead of Havilton. Zombies and wild beasts, drawn by the energy from the hovering vehicle, were tearing through the woods at breakneck speed—like bulldozers, they advanced wildly, threatening to form a torrent that would engulf the First Defense Army’s positions.

Havilton gritted his teeth and ordered, “Switch gear! Throw away those damned gunpowder weapons, use electromagnetic and laser arms—fire at will!”

At his command, the soldiers immediately began swapping out high-energy weapons. The entire forest erupted into a dazzling display; electromagnetic and laser cannons of various calibers streaked brilliant lights across the sky. In a single concentrated volley, dozens of mutant beasts and zombies charging from the ground were blasted into fragments. Only those mutated beyond third-stage managed to survive this fatal barrage.

And the sixth-stage Ironwing Eagle, caught mid-dive, received the warmest welcome. Originally streaking toward the convoy with lightning speed, its shrill screech was abruptly silenced as it was sent tumbling backward by the storm of cannon fire.

Giant Tree Star truly lived up to its reputation as a planetary civilization. On Zombie Star, a sixth-stage mutant beast was an unstoppable force, its power unchallenged by any. Were it not for the unique viral properties confining these monsters to high-energy radiation zones, there would be no living souls left on Zombie Star.

That the First Defense Army could organize a swift counterattack and repel the enemy in the midst of a surprise assault only further showcased the superb military discipline of these battle-seasoned interstellar pirates.

Their strike was effective, and the young soldier beside Havilton looked ecstatic.

“Commander Havilton, is that really a sixth-stage mutant beast? It seems our artillery is more than a match—those dreadful legends of Zombie Star mean nothing before the mighty warriors of Giant Tree Star…”

Havilton had no patience for this rookie’s naïve remarks. With a stern face, he ordered, “Contact the First Combat Team Captain, Azhe, stationed outside the radiation zone. Have him bring heavy firepower and arrive within the hour. Also, establish communication with the ‘Crimson Queen’ flagship in orbit above Zombie Star—request orbital strike support, deploy troops into Zombie Star’s airspace, and, regardless of casualties, forcibly drop radiation-inducing devices overhead.”

The rookie soldier was dumbfounded by the barrage of orders, standing frozen in place.

Meanwhile, the Second Legion of Giant Tree Star's First Defense Army operated seamlessly in squads of five, swiftly clearing mutants and zombies from the forest. Though those mutated beyond third-stage possessed great agility and strength, they fell easily under high-energy fire, never posing a real threat.

Yet their Commander was calling for heavy fire support—even orbital weapons?

Seeing the rookie hesitate, Havilton kicked him sharply, roaring, “Rookie! Follow orders—this is a battlefield! Right now, I am Havilton, Second Legion Commander, not your brother-in-law, you fool!”

“You think we’ve already gained the upper hand? You idiot!”

“Our portable laser and electromagnetic weapons barely scratch that sixth-stage sand eagle—”

“By activating high-energy weapons on Zombie Star, we’ve triggered a chain reaction that’s terrifying.”

“Do you know why we used those obsolete, outdated gunpowder arms until now? Because every high-energy weapon unleashes energy that draws those cursed monsters from across the planet—”

“We’ve now been forced into prolonged combat with high-energy weapons—”

“The resulting energy surge is enough to trigger a mutant beast tide!”

“Worse still, the radiation zone is less than 150 kilometers away. With the monsters’ sensitivity to high-energy reactions, we’re about to face a tidal wave of creatures—”

“Because of the radiation zone, that tide could include seventh-stage, eighth-stage, and even legendary ninth-stage mutant zombies and beasts—creatures no one has ever seen.”

“Even orbital weapons may not be enough to kill them—do you understand now, you idiot!”

Though Havilton was furious at the soldier for questioning his orders, it was clear he still cared for his rookie brother-in-law. Had it been anyone else, such insubordination in the heat of battle would have ended far more harshly. This time, Havilton vented his anger, but patiently explained the cause.

He watched his brother-in-law stumble back to the military vehicle to relay his orders, his expression grave.

Havilton had witnessed the madness of Zombie Star’s creatures long ago, during the outbreak of the zombie virus, when Emperor Monchi led the pirates to pillage Zombie Star. Back then, the viral crisis had just begun, and no high-level mutants had yet appeared. Even so, the terrifying scene of infected rushing toward high-energy reactions like moths to flame still haunted Havilton.

Mountain after mountain, like a tidal wave, zombies and mutant beasts surged endlessly, and even with powerful artillery, the sense of despair—killing without end, with no hope of respite—became Havilton’s nightmare for many years.

Nearly twenty years had passed since then, and Havilton had risen from a lowly pirate to Commander of the Second Legion of Giant Tree Star’s First Defense Army. In those two decades, Giant Tree Star had transformed from a pirate base into an advanced civilization with order and governance, while Zombie Star had sunk into utter decay. Havilton knew well that the changes on Zombie Star over these twenty years were even more terrifying.

“Blackhand Zela… If I survive this, I’ll skin you alive for a seat cushion! Damn your mission, damn your Dark Surge organization, I don’t care anymore!”

Havilton mistakenly believed that the crisis he faced was orchestrated by Zela, never realizing it was all triggered by his own reckless destruction of Ye Hai’s villa, setting off a chain of events.

One could say that retribution arrived swiftly.

Meanwhile, in the hovering vehicle, Zela shivered for no reason—a massive blame descended upon the hapless trafficker.