“What the hell?” Miles looked at his father with his eyes twitching. Malcolm was trolling mindless walking dead and playing with them, but Miles also saw that the wand in Malcolm’s hand was getting a more dangerous vibe as he was fighting. The simple cartoonish wand at first turned into a bloodthirsty killing machine in seconds.

“What out fools!” Malcolm shouted with a smirk and threw the wand into the air. When it landed it got bigger again and squashed tens of walking dead.

“Ah, stop biting me, stop. Don’t you dare to bite me!” A walking dead grabbed Malcolm but as soon as it tried to bite on Malcolm’s neck, the walking dead’s teeth broke apart into pieces. “Joking. Haha!” Malcolm laughed and kept on killing.

Miles had never seen his father like this. Merlin told him that Ultimates depended on the character of the person. How could Malcolm create such an ultimate? Sure he, like every dad, had a bad sense of humor but it wasn’t like this.

“Mother used to say when they were young, father was pretty naughty and a jokester. It should be because of that.” Merlin said with a great laugh.

Not long after Malcolm started, 3 quarters of the flock had been squashed. The wand looked deadlier as more walking dead were killed.

“Here comes the big gun.” Merlin laughed and pointed at Malcolm in the air.

Malcolm grabbed the wand in his two hands like a bazooka and placed it on his shoulder. Wand got as big as a bazooka and Malcolm aimed at the murder of zombies. When he was done aiming, the wand flew out of his hand like a rocket at the speed of sound and got bigger as it moved. Only in a few seconds, the wand got as big as the street, and every walking dead on its path was destroyed to nothingness.

After that attack, the wand vanished into thin air, and the air around Malcolm vanished as well. He looked like his old self. Dependable and serious.

“Since the awakened dead haven't come out yet he is either far away, or it can sense that it can’t win,” Malcolm said as he looked at the distance. There, Miles couldn’t see anything. “Let’s go,” Malcolm said and they kept on walking in 8 rows with Malcolm at the lead.

Miles had never been in this sort of formation. The back row was a very important part of the coordination. They had to keep out for enemies and warn the front row, or an ambush could befall the team. There was also Serzen, watching over the city from the top of the city to warn them at any time. With a solid team like this, they couldn’t be ambushed easily.

After walking deeper into the city, Miles saw a big construction from two millennials ago. It was still standing proudly. That was the famous colosseum! The large amphitheater measured approximately hundreds of meters, towered four stories high, and included eighty entrances to the giant structure. The sheer number of entrances proved to be necessary: the Colosseum could hold more than 50,000 spectators at its maximum capacity.

Their target was there.

The group walked slowly and carpet covered the area. The worst thing after they entered the colosseum would be being trapped by enemies from behind. Although their formation was too strong with Malcolm in their midst, caution still won the battles.

Serzen was still able to see them and direct them, but the distance was making it harder for him to help. Although he could shoot from that distance, the efficiency of his bullets would decrease, thus he asked, “Shall I approach or stay?”

“Stay,” Malcolm said without hesitation. It was the most logical decision really. Miles's first choice would be Serzen to approach to have more firepower. That also allowed them to distract the walking dead with the sound of guns. But Malcolm sees further than that. The closer Serzen was, the fewer areas he could see. When there were more walking dead coming or another awakened dead, he wouldn’t be able to see them in time. Thus, Malcolm had him stay.

After the area was cleared from every walking dead, the group walked in front of a giant structure and stood in front of one of the entrances. Before entering, they could hear a massive amount of walking dead stuck inside the colosseum. The number of walking dead was probably more than tens of thousands.

Malcolm took them from the spectator entrance, and they arrived at the seats and not the stage. When they stepped into the spectator area, the view dumbfounded them to their cores. In the middle of the coliseum, there were tens of thousands walking dead standing in front of another. That another walking dead had rugged crimson clothes with a scepter in hand, and the rest of the tens of thousands were prostrating in front of it.

The Pope!

The idea bloomed in everyone’s mind at the same time while the pope looked at them with its shiny green eyes. They weren’t anything human. Miles heard that the first awakened dead also had flashy blue eyes. It must have been because of the mutation.

The Pope raised his scepter and pointed at the small group and shouted with a high-pitched voice. All the prostrating walking dead stopped groveling in and turned to look at Miles and others. A bloodthirsty aura surrounded the giant coliseum and condensed on their group.

Fear, suddenly born amidst their group. It wasn't the terror of seeing something scary. Every person there had been on the battlefield before. Some had seen much scarier things than that, but the aura or the eyes... Something there looked terrorizing.

Even Miles, despite being threatened by a monster from B-Circle, still felt fear. He knew the difference was like heaven and hell. Tens of thousands of walking dead didn't have a single speck of Jelly's mother's aura, but something supernatural produced that fear. He was shivering in his boots.