Chapter 1352: One Lost, One Taken
Just like Ethan had predicted, it didn’t take long for Rocky’s Earth Ward to start weakening.
He was running out of gas.
The moment Ethan saw it, he made the call.
Rocky’s done.
He sent separate commands to the two thralls, then used Telekinesis to peel the energy mark off his body—like ripping a thorn out of skin.
The instant it came free, Ethan snapped on Absolute Stasis and chained several Teleportations, vanishing from the battlefield.
Absolute Stasis lasted less than a second.
Then everything resumed like nothing had happened. Nobody on the scene even seemed to notice the "hiccup." They kept fighting as if the world hadn’t blinked.
But the winged captain felt it.
Her head jerked toward where Ethan had been.
Empty.
No human.
"Shit." Her expression darkened. She’d expected him to run. But him removing her mark? That hadn’t even been on her list of possibilities.
She started to move to pursue—
And Rocky suddenly dropped his defense entirely and hurled a sky-full of meteors straight at them.
"This idiot wants to die?" the captain said, voice turning cold.
Even so, none of them dared to tank it. They scattered hard.
And the instant they broke formation, the control over Dopey—centered on that storm—collapsed on its own.
Dopey exploded out of the cyclone.
He was on the captain before she could even reset her stance.
One punch slammed into her head.
Her skull didn’t shatter—Dopey was clearly holding back.
But her eyes rolled up, and she went limp.
Out cold.
Dopey snatched her up with one hand and took off running, ground cracking under his feet as he accelerated to a ridiculous speed.
"He took the captain—after him!"
The Winged Clan finally reacted and chased after Dopey—
Only for crushing gravity to slam down from every direction.
Bodies dropped out of the air and smashed into the ground.
Rocky—having abandoned defense—was almost torn apart by the wind attacks in that same instant. His body was shredded, barely holding together.
But his vitality was horrifying. As long as his head wasn’t destroyed, he could keep moving.
Under Ethan’s command, Rocky spent his final moments like a madman, throwing everything he had into delay.
Gravity. Quagmire. Sandstorm—every control skill he could spam, dumped out without restraint.
The Winged Clan were frantic, furious, desperate to pursue... and Rocky kept pinning them in place.
They could only grind him down—finally killing him completely—before they could break free.
By then...
Dopey and Ethan were long gone.
"Split up!" the only remaining Tier 29 Winged Clan elite barked, voice heavy. "Find them. Get the captain back. If we return without her, we’re all getting punished."
"Yes!"
The Winged Clan scattered in all directions, streaking across the sky in search patterns.
Ethan and Dopey regrouped smoothly and didn’t waste a single second. They ran.
Ethan didn’t put Dopey away. He kept him out—kept him carrying the unconscious winged woman as they fled.
To scramble pursuit and throw off tracking, they took the long way back, weaving through country after country across the European continent.
Europe was a mess: some nations had already collapsed completely, others still had human survivors clinging on.
Ethan didn’t even think about looting.
These pockets of humans were useful in a different way—noise, variables, interference.
Two days.
More than ten countries crossed.
Only then did they swing around from another direction and finally re-enter the Atlas Federation.
If Ethan wanted to turn this woman into a soulless thrall, he had to do it in a compound. The environment and materials for creating thralls only existed there.
This whole Rus Federation trip had been miserable.
They hadn’t gained a damn thing—and they’d lost Rocky.
A complete disaster.
...Except they’d come back with a Winged Clan woman.
That at least kept it from feeling like a total loss.
Back in Fallen Star City, Chris and the others had already returned. The moment they saw Ethan, they rushed over.
"Ethan—finally." Chris looked like he’d been holding his breath for two days straight. "We were scared out of our minds."
"Yeah," Big Mike said, half complaining, half relieved. "If you didn’t come back soon, Mia was about to drag us back to Rus Federation to look for you."
"Excuse you," Mia shot back immediately. "Don’t listen to him—I’m not that reckless."
"I know," Ethan said with a small smile.
Mia was smart. She wouldn’t do something that stupid.
He’d gone through all that trouble to pull the Winged Clan away so they could escape. If they’d turned around and gone back, everything he’d done would’ve been pointless.
Still...
Ethan’s eyes landed on her, and his smile softened a fraction.
Her eyes were red.
So yeah—she’d been worried for real.
"Come on," Ethan said with a grin. "You guys know what I can do. If they really wanted to keep me, it wouldn’t be that easy."
Then he waved them in. "Let’s get inside. I need to deal with our new prisoner first."
Only then did everyone notice Dopey standing behind him, gripping a winged woman like she weighed nothing.
"Holy shit, boss," Big Mike blurted. "You went to the Rus Federation and came back with a Winged Clan chick?"
The others stared. Even unconscious, she was gorgeous.
Big Mike’s eyes went even wider. "Boss... please tell me she’s a prisoner and not some kind of weird trophy."
Chris glanced at Mia, then back at Ethan with a look that was half warning, half amusement. "Bold move. Mia’s literally standing right here."
"Shut up," Ethan said, rolling his eyes. "I’m turning her into a thrall."
"A thrall?" Big Mike looked personally offended. "Boss, look at her. Wings, legs, exotic beauty—the whole fantasy package. And you’re turning her into a corpse puppet? That’s a crime against humanity."
"You want her?" Ethan asked like he was offering him a soda.
Big Mike froze. "Wait. Seriously?"
"Sure," Ethan said. "Peak Tier 29. One step from Stage S. If you think your balls are tougher than your mouth, she’s yours."
Big Mike’s face collapsed so fast it was impressive.
"On second thought," he said hoarsely, "I fully support the corpse puppet plan."
Everyone looked at him like he’d crawled out of a gutter.
"Pathetic."
Ethan didn’t even bother reacting. He turned to Miles. "Miles, get the materials ready. Everything we need to create thralls."
"Already prepping it," Miles said.
"Good. Let’s move. We’ll turn her first—no point letting this drag out."
Sean blinked. "Boss... you sound like you’re actually wary of her."
"I am," Ethan said flatly. "If she gets loose and comes back with a swarm of Winged Clan elites, we’re finished."
Sean frowned. "Then why risk bringing her back at all? Wouldn’t it be simpler to just kill her?"
"That’d be letting her off easy," Ethan said, like the answer was obvious. "They killed Rocky. They owe me one."
The group’s expressions snapped tight.
"Rocky’s dead?" someone blurted.
"Yeah." Ethan’s smile faded. "They were strong. And there were too many. Rocky couldn’t hold."
The mood dropped like a curtain.
People looked at the winged woman again—only now there was no awe, no jokes. Just weight. The Winged Clan’s strength had exceeded what they’d expected by a lot.
The Rus Federation was far from the Atlas Federation’s core territory, but in this world, "far" didn’t mean "safe" anymore.
The Winged Clan could fly. And when your enemy had wings, distance wasn’t a wall—it was just a delay.
Who knew when they’d show up at the Atlas Federation’s doorstep?
Just thinking about facing them head-on made Ethan’s scalp prickle.
Fortunately, the Rus Federation was enormous, and the frozen northern routes between the two powers weren’t easy to cross. They still had time.
What they needed to do now was simple—get stronger, as fast as possible.
So when the Winged Clan finally came, they’d have the power to fight back.