Apocalypse: King of Zombies

The Lizardfolk Chieftain's face was tight with urgency—clearly, something had gone wrong at the Clan Stronghold. And now, seeing his people being hunted down, there was no way he could just stand by.

"Go! Hurry up and save him!"

The Lizardfolk warriors behind him didn't hesitate. At his command, they surged forward.

There were a lot of them, and once they tackled the monsters to the ground, three or four would gang up on each one, tearing into them with claws and teeth until they were shredded to pieces.

Ethan watched silently, his suspicions confirmed. Just as he thought—these were some of the most infamous parasitic monsters from the Xenobeasts.

But something didn't add up. These parasites weren't supposed to be anywhere near here. Their usual territory bordered Eastreach in Necroterra, tucked behind the Razorback Ridge. They'd often cross the mountains to harass the undead.

"So what the hell are they doing here?" Ethan frowned. Maybe they'd been driven out of their own territory. And thinking about it more, it wasn't hard to guess why.

The outer wave of monsters didn't last long. The Lizardfolk warriors tore through them like a buzzsaw.

Kragg let out a long breath. "Whew—damn, that was close."

"You did well, Kragg," the Chieftain said, trying to reassure him.

"..." Kragg didn't respond. He was thinking, Easy for you to say—you're the one who sent me out there. I'm not just tired... I'm cursed.

But just as they were catching their breath—

Creeeaaak.

A strange groaning sound echoed from the distance. The towering wooden walls of the Clan Stronghold began to tremble.

"What the...?"

The Lizardfolk's yellow eyes went wide. A chill ran down their spines.

BOOM!

The next second, the massive wall came crashing down. The ground shook violently, a cloud of dust and dead leaves exploding into the air.

Then came the roar—loud, guttural, and terrifying. From the wreckage, a flood of monsters poured out like water spilling from an overfilled cup.

"Holy shit!"

The Lizardfolk were stunned.

There were still a ton of their people inside the Stronghold. Even if only half had been infected, that still meant hundreds of thousands of them—and some of those would've mutated into elite-level threats.

"We can't take them head-on. Fall back!" the Chieftain barked, making the call to retreat while fighting a rear-guard action.

But not all the monsters were focused on the Lizardfolk. A good number of them turned and charged toward Ricky and the other humans—drawn by the scent of human flesh, which was even more tempting than Lizardfolk meat.

"I've been wondering what the hell these things are," Ricky muttered, completely unfazed. He drew his katana, dark energy swirling around the blade, and charged straight into the fray.

The parasitic monsters he faced were newly infected and still low-tier. His black aura fanned out in a wide arc, slicing through them like a scythe through wheat. Dozens were shredded in an instant.

But some of them didn't stay down. Even after being cut in half, their bodies sprouted fleshy tendrils that wriggled and pulled the pieces back together.

"What the hell?" Ricky blinked in surprise. "Boss, what's going on with these things?"

"Don't ask me everything. Figure it out yourself," Ethan replied coolly.

"Alright, alright..." Ricky grumbled, swinging his katana again and dicing up a few more. After a few more kills, he noticed something—their weak spot was in the chest. Hitting anywhere else barely did anything.

With that knowledge, he got into a rhythm, cutting down the parasites with increasing speed and precision.

As more and more of the monsters fell, wisps of black resentment energy flowed into Ricky's body.

But these low-level creatures didn't have much of a mind left, so the energy they gave off was weak. Only by killing higher-tier beings—ones with full consciousness—could he really power up.

Ethan, meanwhile, hadn't lifted a finger. Instead, he turned his gaze toward the horizon. Even from this distance, he could just barely make out the faint hum of human aircraft.

"Humans are coming..." he murmured, narrowing his eyes. And not just a few of them, either. His body shimmered and faded, vanishing into the shadows.

Time to see who exactly was showing up...

As soon as daylight broke, Aria and her team were on the move. They were tracking Ricky's trail—and trying to figure out what the hell had happened to Jarek.

Their mid-sized Command Cruiser sliced through the sky, speeding over the Lizardfolk Tribe's territory. What they found confirmed their suspicions: the village was practically deserted, save for the elderly, the sick, and the young. All the warriors were gone. Without missing a beat, they pushed forward.

A quick radar sweep locked onto the battlefield.

Below, a swarm of parasitic monsters was pouring out of the dense forest like a tidal wave, chasing down the retreating Lizardfolk warriors. The jungle was in chaos—roars and screeches echoed through the trees, thick trunks snapped like twigs, and leaves and splinters filled the air.

But one spot stood out.

A pillar of black resentment energy shot into the sky.

At the center of it all, Ricky was leading the charge, cutting down monsters left and right. Behind him, Veyra and the others had formed a tight circle, fighting tooth and nail to hold their ground.

"There they are," Aria muttered, her brows knitting together.

It wasn't hard to guess what had happened—they must've been cornered during the pursuit and forced deeper into the forest, only to get caught in the crossfire between the parasites and the Lizardfolk.

A middle-aged man stepped up beside her, peering down with a sharp glint in his eyes. "Miss Aria, those rebels are neck-deep in monsters. If we wait a little longer, they'll be dead without us lifting a finger."

"We need them alive," Aria said firmly. "We bring them back to the Inner City for trial. Maybe we can squeeze some intel out of them—especially about that so-called Zombie King in the white shirt. And we still don't know if Jarek's dead or alive. We need answers."

"Understood," the man nodded. His name was Varick Solen, a Master Instructor from Pinnacle Academy and an SS+ level Awakener.

With the decision made, the Command Cruiser dropped altitude fast.

Below, the hull groaned as cold metal panels slid open, revealing several dark, gaping cannon ports—ready to unleash hell.

Claire had spared no expense outfitting her daughter's cruiser. Each Crystal Core Blaster was embedded with an S-rank crystal core, top of the line.

As Aria pressed the fire command, the cannons lit up, energy surging and condensing into a blinding storm. A barrage of crystal-powered shells screamed toward the battlefield.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

The already chaotic battleground erupted into even more destruction. The earth shook violently, the air howled with pressure, and shockwaves tore through everything in their path.

Around Ricky and his group, several blasts landed in rapid succession. The explosions ripped through monsters and ancient trees alike, reducing them to splinters and gore. In seconds, a wide clearing had been carved out of the jungle—a vacuum of silence in the middle of the chaos.

"Huh?" Ricky turned his head, eyes narrowing.

A massive shadow dropped from the sky—it was the Command Cruiser, descending fast.

THUD!

The ship landed with a heavy impact, sending another tremor through the ground.

Hatches hissed open, and a squad of Awakeners stepped out, fully geared and armed to the teeth.

At the front was Aria, flanked by two Pinnacle Academy Instructors, several elite students, and her personal House Guard—each one wielding crystal-core firearms and clad in high-grade armor.

They radiated power and confidence, a force to be reckoned with.

This was one of the most elite human strike teams outside of the ruling families themselves.

Ricky stood tall, katana in hand, eyes sharp.

The rest of the White Robe Order tensed up, their expressions grim.

"Ricky," Aria called out, her voice cold and commanding. "You've committed atrocities and destroyed innocent lives. Don't make this worse—surrender now and face judgment."

"Innocent?" Ricky's voice was low, laced with venom. "The poor steal a loaf of bread and get punished. The powerful steal entire nations and get crowned for it."

"You really haven't changed at all..." Aria's long black hair fluttered in the wind, her face hardening with resolve.

The air between them grew heavy, thick with tension. A fight was inevitable.

Then, Instructor Varick stepped forward.

"Veyra," he said, his voice calm but firm. "Stop this nonsense. Your mother misses you. If you surrender now, you might still get a chance to see her again."

"..."

Veyra froze.

Her grip on her blade faltered, just for a moment. Her eyes flickered with something—hesitation, maybe even longing.

...