Apocalypse: King of Zombies

"Awoooo~~~"

The mutated wolf's howl echoed through the valley, a chilling signal that the predators were on the move—the night of bloodshed had begun.

Back in the Lizardfolk Tribe, the Chieftain was still shaken, his heart pounding with lingering fear.

"Hurry! Get to the Clan Stronghold and report this to the Lizard King. Tell him the Voidborn Undying has descended upon Xenorift!"

"Chieftain, is it really that serious? I mean, all he did was let a few humans go," one of his warriors said, clearly confused.

The Chieftain snapped, "With that pea-sized brain of yours, what would you know? The Voidborn Undying showing up on the continent is a sign of chaos to come. This is just the beginning. We need to warn our master so the tribe can prepare."

"Oh… I see…"

"Then get moving! Quit standing around!" the Chieftain barked again.

The warrior quickly nodded and took off with a squad of Lizardfolk soldiers, disappearing into the distance.

The Chieftain turned his gaze to the horizon. Night was falling fast, and darkness was about to swallow everything.

The weak had no choice but to band together, to rely on the strength of the group if they wanted to survive in this brutal land.

Today, the Chieftain felt, was the closest the tribe had ever come to total annihilation…

Thankfully, the Voidborn Undying hadn't gone berserk. He'd left peacefully.

But just then, Kragg came sprinting over, panic written all over his face. "Chieftain! Bad news! That human in the white shirt—he's back!"

"What?!" The Chieftain's eyes widened in horror. "Why the hell did he come back?!"

"No idea. But… he brought a whole group with him."

"..." The Chieftain fell silent. The relief he'd just felt vanished in an instant, his heart climbing back into his throat.

Moments later, Ethan strolled into view, calm and unhurried. Behind him were Ricky and the others, all dressed in white, their presence stark against the dim surroundings.

The Chieftain rushed forward, forcing a smile that looked more like a grimace. "My lord, you… you've returned? May I ask why?"

"What, not happy to see me?"

"No, no, of course not! We're honored, truly… heh…" The Chieftain's laugh was dry and strained, like he was choking on sand.

Ricky and the others looked around, taking in the eerie sight of the Lizardfolk Tribe. In the shadows, dozens of glowing yellow eyes stared back at them—unnerving, to say the least.

Normally, this was the kind of place no human would dare set foot in.

But with Ethan leading the way, they felt untouchable.

That's what real security feels like…

Especially for Veyra and the others, who had been wounded by Lizardfolk not long ago. Seeing the Chieftain now bowing and scraping was deeply satisfying.

Ethan spoke slowly, "I came back because I wanted to talk more about those runes."

"Ah… well…" The Chieftain's face twisted into a bitter expression. "As you've seen, our runes are crude and basic. I barely understand the surface of it. I'm not worthy of discussing them with you."

Ethan fell silent, thinking.

Even those crude runes had turned the tide in battle. They'd been surprisingly effective.

Of course… that was just a skirmish between "kids."

If he wanted to go up against the rulers of Heartland, he'd need something far more powerful.

"Then tell me—who actually knows their stuff when it comes to runes?" Ethan asked.

"Uh, I…" The Chieftain opened his mouth, then hesitated, something clearly on his mind.

"What? Don't tell me you don't know," Ethan said, his tone cooling.

"N-no, of course I do." The Chieftain gritted his teeth, clearly torn. "Our High Priest at the Clan Stronghold… he's the one who really understands runes."

"Oh? Great. Then take me to your Clan Stronghold tomorrow," Ethan said without missing a beat.

The Chieftain smacked his forehead, cursing himself. He'd just made the same mistake Kragg had. Bringing Ethan to the Stronghold? Who knew how their master would react?

"This is gonna be the death of me…"

"..."

And so, Ethan and his group settled in for the night within the Lizardfolk Tribe. Outside, Lizardfolk guards kept watch, even clashing with some unknown beasts in the darkness.

But inside the tribe, everything remained calm. No one dared disturb them.

Ricky lit a small campfire, the flickering flames casting dancing shadows across their faces. The dry wood crackled and popped as it burned, filling the air with the comforting scent of smoke and warmth.

"Whew! Man, it's been forever since I felt this chill," Ricky exhaled deeply, stretching his arms behind his head.

Ever since they'd escaped to Xenorift, it had been non-stop running, hiding, and fighting. Even in the rare moments of quiet, they'd had to stay on edge, always watching for mutated beasts or patrols. This—sitting by a fire, safe for once—felt like a luxury.

"Yeah," Veyra said softly, sitting beside him. "Sometimes… peace itself is a kind of happiness."

Ricky shot her a sideways glance. "Coming from a girl from the Inner City, that's kinda rich. Didn't you have it pretty good?"

"Not really," Veyra replied with a shrug. "Sure, I had better material conditions, but mentally? It was exhausting. Honestly, I think people in the Outer Zone might've had it easier in some ways."

Most of the White Robe Order came from the Outer Zone—people who'd grown up resenting the massive gap between their lives and those of the Inner City elite. That resentment had fueled the uprising.

But Veyra was different. She'd been born and raised in the Inner City, a student at Pinnacle Academy no less—one of the most prestigious institutions around. Her future had been bright, practically guaranteed. Until everything fell apart.

Ethan glanced over at her, curiosity flickering in his eyes. "So… what'd you do?"

"I… killed someone," Veyra said quietly, her voice tinged with pain. Her eyes drifted to the fire, the flames reflecting memories she clearly didn't want to relive.

She hadn't killed just anyone. She'd killed her stepfather.

After her mother remarried, Veyra had moved in with them. She'd been young then, still powerless, her Awakening hadn't happened yet. At first, her stepfather had seemed decent enough. But over time, something changed. He became violent—especially toward her mother.

Veyra had tried to intervene, but that only made her a target too. The beatings, the fear, the helplessness—it all piled up. Her world became a nightmare, and her childhood was swallowed by trauma.

Eventually, she Awakened. Pinnacle Academy took her in, and for a while, it seemed like things might finally turn around.

But then, one night, her stepfather tried to force himself on her.

That was the breaking point.

All the rage, the fear, the years of pain—everything exploded. She lost control. And in that frenzy, she killed him.

The day she was supposed to stand trial, the massive Skywall that protected the Inner City shattered. Chaos erupted. Veyra seized the moment, took down a few guards, and escaped.

That's when she met Ricky. The two clicked instantly.

"Damn," Ethan muttered. "That's rough."

Ricky nodded solemnly, then turned to her. "Honestly? I don't think you did anything wrong. You're not the one who should feel guilty. But your school, your instructors, your classmates—they're still hunting you down like you're some kind of monster. That's messed up."

"The Inner City has its own rules," Veyra said with a bitter smile. "It is what it is. But… I don't regret killing him. Not for a second. I just… I wonder how my mom's doing now."

She bit her lip, eyes glistening faintly in the firelight.

She could only imagine the pain her mother must be going through…

The fire crackled on, warm and steady, as they shared their stories under the open sky.

Behind them, most of the White Robe Order had already drifted off to sleep. They were exhausted—physically, mentally, emotionally. This rare moment of calm was a blessing, and they clung to it, eyes closed, breathing slow and even.

But not far away, inside a hut nestled beneath a thick, ancient tree, the Lizardfolk Chieftain was pacing like a caged animal.

His face was tight with worry, his brow furrowed deep in thought.

Earlier, he'd sent runners to the Clan Stronghold to report the arrival of the Voidborn Undying.

But hours had passed.

And not a single one had returned.

The Chieftain's gut twisted. Something had gone wrong. He could feel it.

So he sent more runners.

And again… nothing.

Not one came back.

...