My 100th Rebirth a day before the Apocalypse novel Chapter 747

But the Patriarch wasn't someone who gave up easily. As a seasoned businessman, he had weathered countless setbacks and challenges. With practiced precision, he fired his crossbow in rapid succession—each shot clean and calculated, taking down five zombies at a time. It moved with such efficiency that it resembled an automatic assault rifle.

The two old men exchanged a brief glance, silently acknowledging their unspoken competition. It might've looked childish to an outsider, but it fueled their determination, pushing them to fight harder and more actively.

Within just fifteen minutes, Kisha's team had broken through the encirclement of the zombie horde, cutting them down with brutal efficiency. Meanwhile, the Scarlet Bees worked silently in the aftermath, using their smallest forms to gather the crystal cores.

They deposited the collected cores into Kisha's pouch before resuming their positions, quietly scouting the area around the group to protect them from any sudden ambushes.

No one noticed the Scarlet Bees as they moved silently through the chaos, working efficiently in the shadows. Meanwhile, Kisha and the others sprinted toward the target location, already having covered more than 500 meters.

Suddenly, Tristan teleported to their side, his presence sharp and sudden. Without a word, he handed Kisha a pouch filled to the brim with crystal cores.

It was clear that he and Sparrow had been fiercely battling on the front lines, all while keeping tabs on the situation and ensuring Kisha stayed updated.

"Young Madam, we encountered a zombie horde about 100 meters away, and another wave of 200 to 300 zombies is approaching from the west at nine o'clock and the east at one o'clock," Tristan reported quickly. "Sparrow and I managed to thin their numbers, but it wasn't enough."

As soon as Kisha gave a firm nod, Tristan vanished into thin air once more.

Even before Kisha's team could catch their breath, the next wave of undead was already closing in.

Melody, who had yet to awaken her ability and had never experienced this level of physical strain before the apocalypse, was struggling to keep up. She panted heavily, her chest burning and her legs feeling like lead after the relentless cycle of fighting and sprinting.

Exhaustion weighed her down, and frustration boiled beneath the surface. Her eyes narrowed at Kisha, convinced this was deliberate—that Kisha was pushing her on purpose, knowing full well she was the only one in the group still unawakened.

But really, what could Kisha do? It wasn't like she could give Melody special treatment—not in the middle of a mission. The whole reason she brought her family out here was so they could experience the reality of life beyond the safety of their walls.

That meant facing hardship head-on. They needed to understand just how dangerous the outside world truly was.

There was no room for rest. If they stopped now, the zombies would catch up and surround them. They didn't have the luxury of staying in one place. They had to keep moving until they found a safe spot to breathe—if they ever even got that chance.

These harsh truths were necessary. Kisha believed that only by confronting them would her family learn to stay alert, to never let their guard down, and to always expect the unexpected.

That meant Kisha and the others didn't have time to babysit anyone. Everyone had to learn to stand on their own, no matter how difficult or dangerous it was. And so far, Kisha was genuinely proud—both her and Duke's family had clearly understood that point.

They were fighting their way through the zombie encirclement without leaning too heavily on her or Duke, pushing themselves with real grit.

Even Grandma Aldens, whose awakened ability was more support-oriented—similar to Kisha's 'One Body and Healing Dome skills'—made sure she wasn't a burden. Her awakened ability could dispel negative emotions and uplift morale, and thanks to that, the group was now fighting with fierce determination.

A healthy rivalry had even begun to blossom, especially between Grandpa Aldens and the Patriarch, who seemed to be silently competing with each other. It was almost childish—but it pushed them to fight harder, which helped the team overall.

And Grandma Aldens? She wasn't just sitting back. Despite refusing a special weapon from Kisha—insisting it would be wasted on her—she chose a good old spiked baseball bat instead.

Years of manual labor gave her more than enough strength. Her swings weren't just for show—each hit could crack a zombie's skull in one go, brain matter splattering across the ground.

It was messy and gruesome, but she still wore a smug smile, proudly showing off to her husband that she wasn't some idle old lady—she could hold her own just fine.