Shane quickly grabbed the radio and called across to Excellence.

"Tundra, report. What’s the situation over there?"

Static crackled for a moment before Tundra’s voice came through. He was calm but slightly annoyed. "Everything’s fine. The murlocks didn’t do any real damage. Honestly, my bombs caused more trouble than they did. But don’t worry... Excellence is built like a tank. Even a Mana Cannon wouldn’t pierce this hull. Vasco tested it."

Shane knew this as well since the elves reinforced it so explosions don’t matter.

In any case, he was still relieved after hearing the man’s voice. "Good. Keep the crew steady. We can’t afford panic."

"Already handled," Tundra replied. "Everyone’s awake now. Lily and Elsa gave me an earful for not waking them, but the deck’s clear. We’re fine."

Shane smirked faintly, shaking his head. "Alright. Stay sharp. We’ll need everyone ready when we reach the islands."

He set the radio down and turned back to Harry at the helm.

The captain was already adjusting the sails, keeping their pace steady. Providence wasn’t moving fast, and neither was Excellence. With the heavy mechs aboard and the risk of attracting attention, speed wasn’t their priority.

It was basic knowledge among sailors of the Apocalypse seas.

They had to stick to the safe zones. If they drifted off course, they would end up in the territory of a Sea Zombie King or even Lords. Even with Providence and Excellence carrying heavy firepower, such battles were best avoided unless absolutely necessary.

There was no point in wasting strength on needless fights. The seas were dangerous enough without drawing attention.

The ocean was vast, and once a battle started, it could spiral into chaos.

***

Later that night, Shane studied the map again. He had already memorized most of it, but he kept reviewing the symbols marked across the islands.

The nearest destination was close now. It was an island marked with a Black Tower symbol.

Rowan, the merchant who sold him the map, had explained the meaning. Black Tower islands were said to hold ancient structures, ruins from before the Apocalypse.

According to legend, treasures or artifacts could be found there, but they were often guarded by powerful threats.

Shane traced the other symbols on the parchment, reminding himself of what lay ahead...

Broken Chains means prisons or sealed vaults, with bound entities possibly still lingering.

Crescent Moon meant unstable islands tied to tides and lunar cycles.

Pair of Wings meant nests of mutated birds or flying zombies.

Dead Fish was just poisoned waters, barren zones where fishing was impossible.

Eye Symbols were places of surveillance or mystery.

Crown Symbol signifies islands with rulers or factions already established.

Biohazard Mark was obviously related to corrupted lands or hostile soil.

Skull Symbol indicates territories of powerful mutated zombies, Kings, or Lords.

Wooden Ship Symbol implies wreckage zones with dangerous currents.

And many more.

Each mark was a warning or a clue for them...

For now, though, their course was set.

The first destination was the Black Tower island. Shane folded the map carefully and looked out at the horizon.

"Rowan said treasures or artifacts might be there," Shane muttered to himself. "Or something worse. Either way, we’ll find out soon."

Harry glanced at him. "You look excited..."

Shane gently nodded. There was no way to hide his emotion.

"I’m not expecting to find Sofia’s traces there, but this is a good start."

***

In the meantime, within the island with the Black Tower symbol, a group of Survivors could be seen scouting the area...

It had been three months since Tris’ shelter spawned on the island.

At first, none of them understood what had happened.

The shelter had been transported so suddenly. Well, their dragon-defying walls were still emitting the same energy that could fend off Dragon’s Breath...

However, the place seemed different from the Dragon Awakening Apocalypse. Indeed, the land around them was wrong.

A few days later, some local survivors eventually confirmed their shelter was considered a Neutral Shelter!

However, that was weird since they knew what Neutral Shelter means! They had been conducting trade with these shelters as well!

But for some reason, they couldn’t properly access their systems here. The Clan System, the World Chat, the Regional Chat, and some other functions weren’t except for the important Inventory, Character Status, Skills, Talents, and a few others...

In any case, their shelter or they themselves, were no longer tied to any clan, nor did they belong to the dragon factions Tris had once known.

"It’s really weird..." Tris muttered one evening, sitting by the fire with his small group.

He still remembered the choices he had been given back on Earth.

The Apocalypse Options included Dragon Awakening, A.I. Rebellion, Demon Invasion, Magic War, Ragnarok, Zombie Outbreak.

He really wanted the Demon Invasion Apocalypse but he had chosen Dragon Awakening, hoping to stay close to his officemates who had picked the same.

Indeed, while the selection was happening back on Earth, they had discussed together to choose this apocalypse since most of them only had three options, and the only one in common was the Dragon Awakening.

But that decision had cost him dearly.

His officemates had spawned in different regions, scattered across the dragon world. Most of them died before he could even meet them.

’I should’ve selected Demon Invasion at that time.’

Now, he was here. And this wasn’t Dragon Awakening anymore.

The accident had changed everything.

Apparently, one of the gate stones he had collected from a mysterious rebel dragon trader had exploded.

The blast consumed the entire shelter, and when the smoke cleared, they were no longer in the dragon world.

His commanders couldn’t sense dragons at all. Instead, they felt the presence of the undead... countless zombies roaming the seas, and a few scattered across the island.

After months of investigation, they were sure now that they had been transported into the Zombie Apocalypse world!

Tris rubbed his temples, remembering the chaos of that night.

"We were thriving... then that stone ruined everything."

He owned a total of 6 shelters in his territory, and the one that was sent with him wasn’t even the strongest but his third strongest shelter!

’What a mess...’

Tris could only sigh as there was nothing he could do about that.

Still, his Land Owner Talent had saved them.

It allowed him to occupy small plots of land and fortify them again. Even here, in this strange world, the talent worked.

He had carved out a safe zone, built another layer of walls, and established his small shelter, and even if he couldn’t establish a Clan through a system, he just made it through papers and tokens of membership instead!

In any case, this shelter, which he now called the Draconic Fort, thrived in its own way. They had farmland, fishing spots, and a few defensive towers.

The island wasn’t large, but it was enough to sustain them. He even recruited some scavengers, survivors, or locals around to boost their populations.

His second-in-command, Nika, approached him. "Leader, the scouts returned. More undead washed ashore today. Not many, but they’re stronger than the usual ones."

Tris frowned. "Sea zombies again?"

"Yes. They’re coming from the west. We might be expecting another King-Tier soon..."

Tris stood, adjusting his cloak. "Then we’ll welcome them if they come. Make sure to prepare the defenses."

The clan moved quickly as they prepared for a strong Zombie. After all, it had always been this pattern, dozens of hundreds of low-tier zombies and soon, advanced-tier would be sent out before the Zombie Generals, Kings, or Lords would come.

They had learned to adapt.

Ballistae were mounted on the walls, and archers lined the ramparts. Farmers dropped their tools and picked up spears...

Everyone knew their role.

As expected, more Advanced-Tier Sea Zombies appeared!

"Mermec Zombies!" The scouts shouted.

As the undead shambled out of the surf, Tris raised his hand.

"Hold until they’re close. Don’t waste arrows."

The zombies looked at them and soon, they clawed at the sand, dragging themselves forward. When they reached the edge of the shelter’s boundary, Tris gave the order.

"Now!"

Arrows flew, ballista bolts slammed into rotting bodies, and the defenders charged forward.

Since there were only about 50 or so Mermec Zombies, the fight was short, brutal, and efficient. Within minutes, the undead were cut down.

Nika wiped her blade clean. "Three months here, and it feels like we’ve been fighting forever."

Tris nodded. "We have to accept it. This is our world now. At the very least, they don’t have scales like those dragonoids..."

***

Later, alone in his quarters, Tris studied the fragments of the gate stone that had caused their transfer. The shards pulsed faintly, as if mocking him...

"What are you?" he whispered. "Why did you bring us here? We can’t even build a freaking ship to leave this place... No, leaving this place is probably a bad idea. We don’t know anything."

Tris was really getting frustrated.

But still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that the explosion hadn’t been an accident. Someone, or something, had wanted them here.

And if that was true, then he really wanted to know what he must do in this land.