Evil MC's NTR Harem

Chapter 1170: Chapter 1170 Wraith

After that day, Alistair and his siblings were granted the freedom to venture outside whenever they wished, on the sole condition that Brandon accompanied them.

At first, the rule was enforced strictly.

During their earliest outings, their mothers followed closely behind, never letting the children stray too far from their sight, weapons always drawn and senses stretched taut.

Those first trips were tense.

Every distant groan, every shadow between ruined buildings, sent their hearts racing.

The undead roamed in numbers, and the world beyond their safe zone was unforgiving.

More than once, their mothers had to intervene, cutting down zombies before they could overwhelm the group.

But that phase did not last long.

With each excursion, Alistair and the others grew noticeably stronger.

Repeated battles tempered their bodies and sharpened their instincts.

They learned how to move together, how to cover each other’s blind spots, and how to strike decisively without hesitation.

The heart stones they gathered after every successful hunt accumulated rapidly, each one fueling further growth.

Their abilities began to evolve at an alarming pace.

What once required careful planning and constant supervision soon became routine.

Hordes that had previously forced them to retreat were now cut down methodically.

Zombies fell in droves, their bodies littering the streets as the siblings pressed forward without fear.

Gradually, their mothers stopped following on every trip.

At first, they only stayed behind occasionally. Then, more often than not.

Eventually, they no longer accompanied the group at all, content to watch them leave from a distance, their expressions a mixture of pride and lingering concern.

Even then, one thing never changed.

Brandon was always with them.

Everyone knew how strong Brandon was.

It was not something he boasted about, nor something he ever demonstrated seriously—but those who had sparred with him understood all too well.

His movements were calm, controlled, and terrifyingly efficient.

No matter how hard they tried, no one could truly push him.

Among Ross’ wives, only Althea could manage to stand her ground against him for more than a brief exchange.

Even so, there was no certainty that she was actually forcing him to exert himself.

Their spars often looked casual, almost playful, devoid of killing intent or desperate struggle.

That uncertainty unsettled everyone.

They could not tell where Brandon’s limits truly lay—or if he even had any.

As for Ross, his reputation grew steadily with each passing day.

Everyone acknowledged his strength, and many openly admired him.

Most believed his power stemmed from the countless heart stones he possessed, assuming that sheer resources were the reason he advanced so quickly.

It was a comforting explanation.

Unfortunately, it was also wrong.

None of them knew the truth.

None of them realized that Ross’s strength had already surpassed all known limits—that he was no longer merely strong, but peerless.

In fact, long before anyone noticed, Ross had already become the strongest man in the entire multiverse, an existence standing far above the ruins of this broken world.

And yet, he remained silent, allowing everyone to misunderstand.

For now.

Week by week, Alistair and his siblings continued their expeditions beyond the safety of Aegis, venturing deeper into the devastated city with every passing raid.

At first, the survivors they encountered were few—lonely figures hiding in basements, collapsed buildings, and sealed apartments, clinging to life through nothing but fear and stubborn will.

Most of those early rescues were barely alive.

As the siblings grew stronger, their confidence and efficiency increased alongside their power.

What once required careful scouting and cautious movement gradually transformed into methodical operations.

Routes were mapped, danger zones cleared, and entire districts slowly reclaimed from the undead.

With greater strength came greater reach.

Within just three months of relentless zombie raiding, the number of rescued survivors skyrocketed.

The siblings saved more than fifteen hundred people, pulling them back from the edge of extinction.

By then, the population of Aegis had swelled to over two thousand, transforming the settlement from a refuge into a growing community.

For those who were saved, the experience was nothing short of overwhelming.

Many broke down the moment they crossed the gates.

Hardened expressions shattered, and bloody tears streamed down their faces as they realized they were no longer running, no longer hiding, no longer waiting to die.

Some fell to their knees, trembling as if the ground itself were the only thing keeping them upright.

They had survived hell.

Most of the rescued were painfully weak.

They possessed no combat abilities, no awakened powers, and no means to fight back.

Killing zombies had never been an option for them.

Instead, they had endured by hiding in silence, rationing scraps of food, and praying each night that the undead would not find them.

Hunger had carved deep lines into their bodies.

Many were emaciated, their ribs clearly visible beneath thin skin.

Some were carried into Aegis unconscious, teetering on the brink of death.

Infection, exhaustion, and despair had hollowed them out long before they were rescued.

But Aegis was different.

Inside its walls, survivors were met not with judgment, but with care.

Those who had awakened healing abilities worked tirelessly, moving from one injured person to the next.

Wounds that would have once been fatal slowly closed. Fevers broke.

Starving bodies were stabilized and nourished back to health.

Food was shared.

Shelter was provided.

Order was restored.

For the first time since the apocalypse began, people slept without clutching weapons or listening for groans in the dark.

Hope—fragile but real—began to take root.

Aegis was no longer just a place to hide.

It was becoming a symbol of survival, a beacon in a dead world, and the quiet foundation of something that might one day resemble a future again.

Still, as the anniversary of the zombie apocalypse arrived, the world seemed to hold its breath.

Cities lay in ruins, the streets still haunted by the echoes of the fallen, and yet life—fragile and stubborn—had clawed its way back.

It was on this day that someone, who had spent all the intervening time searching for a way to escape or fix his predicament, finally stirred.