Apocalypse: King of Zombies

"Who?!"

Everyone froze, whipping their heads around.

And the moment they saw Ethan's face—just one look—and their breath caught in their throats. Terror twisted their expressions, a tidal wave of dread crashing through their hearts.

"That guy in the white shirt… the Zombie King?"

"What the hell is he doing here?!"

"No way… this has to be an illusion!"

"…"

The fear that once gripped them at the sight of that white-shirted Zombie King came rushing back in full force. That day when the Skywall shattered—it was like a natural disaster had descended. Many of them, elite members of the House Guard, had been there.

And now, that same figure in the white shirt… had returned.

Varick, in particular, felt the crushing pressure descend on him like a mountain. The air around him thickened, space itself seemed to freeze. His body lit up with flickering blue light as water-element energy surged to resist the overwhelming force.

"The… the Creed of the White Robe?"

Suddenly, Varick understood the deeper meaning behind Veyra's words. They'd been led astray. They'd put their faith in a devil, sold their souls, and fallen into darkness.

As Ethan stepped closer, Varick clenched his jaw so hard it felt like his teeth might crack.

Just moments ago, he'd stood tall, a commanding presence. Now, he was nothing more than a mayfly struggling to survive.

Still, with his SS+ level strength, he barely managed to hold his ground against the crushing pressure.

Then—boom—his body erupted in a burst of blue light. He didn't dare hold anything back. In an instant, he unleashed everything he had. Wild, surging water-element energy condensed and twisted into two massive water dragons that roared to life.

At the peak of SS-tier power, the display was nothing short of spectacular.

The twin dragons spiraled around each other, howling like thunder, their power undeniable.

BOOM!

The elemental force slammed into Ethan's body and exploded on impact. The ground shook violently, cracks spiderwebbing out in every direction.

The earth caved in, like an earthquake had just hit.

"Did we get him?!"

Gasps rippled through the crowd.

They'd all seen it—Ethan's figure vanished in the blast.

Even Varick looked stunned. That was… way too easy.

What the hell just happened?

Was the Zombie King in the white shirt… really just a hallucination?

Confusion and disbelief spread like wildfire.

Only Cassian stood still, his brow furrowed deep. He could feel it—Ethan's energy hadn't disappeared. The idea that the Zombie King had been hit? That was the real illusion.

Cassian's vast mental energy spread out, scanning the area. And then he felt it—something was moving. Fast. Headed straight for Varick.

"Varick! Move! Now!"

"What?" Varick's face twisted in confusion.

But in the next instant, his expression froze. His pupils dilated.

Because five fingers had already pierced into his skull.

CRACK—

Varick's body crumpled to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut.

Behind him, Ethan's figure slowly came into view, still holding the same casual pose—like he'd just plucked a cherry off a tree. Between his fingers, a deep blue crystal core shimmered, smooth and glowing, almost dreamlike.

"Not bad," Ethan murmured softly.

"…"

Silence.

You could've heard a pin drop.

Everyone stared, paralyzed with fear.

Dead.

A Master Instructor from the Academy—just like that, dead.

He didn't even last a single hit.

Cassian's face was grim. He was the only one who truly understood—months ago, this man in the white shirt had gone toe-to-toe with the heads of the three great families. To someone like Ethan, anyone below SSS-tier was nothing but an insect.

Killing Varick?

That was child's play.

"Instructor, what do we do now?" a student asked, voice trembling with fear.

"Contact HQ—now! Request backup from the Inner City! We'll try to hold him off as long as we can!"

"R-Right!" the student stammered, scrambling to obey.

Cassian stood like a man facing the end of the world. He'd come here expecting to crush a rebel uprising—never in his worst nightmares had he imagined running into him—the Zombie King in the white shirt. Now, they were staring death in the face. The odds of survival? Slim to none.

Maybe… just maybe… if he could break through to SSS-tier, there'd be a sliver of hope.

"Attack!" Cassian barked, refusing to give in.

At his command, over a hundred House Guards raised their crystal-core firearms. Energy surged, and a barrage of glowing projectiles tore through the air toward Ethan.

But the moment they neared him, the energy froze midair—then, under the crushing force of the Domain of the Dead, every single shot was flung back like rubber bullets.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

The blasts detonated in the ranks of the House Guard, tearing through bodies like paper. Blood sprayed. Screams erupted. Chaos reigned.

Cassian clenched his jaw, forcing his mental energy forward, trying to pierce Ethan's domain.

But the second his mind entered that space, it was shredded like tissue in a hurricane.

"AAAHHH—!"

Cassian screamed, clutching his head, nearly collapsing from the psychic backlash.

"Holy shit…"

From the rear, Veyra and the others stared, wide-eyed.

Ethan stood alone, tearing through Inner City elites like they were nothing. It wasn't even a fight—it was a massacre.

"Let's go!" Veyra roared, summoning a gleaming Hydro Blade. With several members of the White Robe Order at his back, he launched himself into the fray.

Meanwhile, Cassian was still on his knees, heart pounding like a war drum. Time seemed to slow, every second stretching out. Then—crack—something inside him shattered.

The pain in his skull vanished, replaced by a sudden, icy clarity. A new surge of mental energy flooded his body, stronger, sharper, more focused than ever before.

"I… I broke through?" Cassian gasped, stunned. He could hardly believe it. The pressure of the Domain of the Dead had pushed him past his limits, unlocking a new level of power at the very edge of death.

His eyes snapped into focus, locking onto the white figure ahead.

Ethan had been watching. He noticed the shift immediately—Cassian's aura had changed. Stronger. Sharper. More refined.

Not bad…

He was pleased.

His prize had just upgraded—from an SS+ crystal core… to an SSS-tier one. Still unstable, freshly awakened, but definitely stronger than before.

Even an imperfect SSS core was better than the last.

"Die!"

Cassian growled, unleashing his full power. His mental energy surged like a tidal wave, flooding the battlefield, thick and suffocating.

Any normal creature would've been snuffed out like a candle in a storm, their minds crushed under the weight.

But Ethan didn't move.

A darker, deeper force erupted from him, sweeping across the field. The air itself screamed as it passed.

Cassian's mental wave shattered instantly, melting away like snow under a blowtorch.

"AAAHHH—!"

Another scream tore from Cassian's throat, raw and desperate.

And in that moment, he understood.

Even after breaking through to SSS-tier, the gap between him and Ethan was still… insurmountable.

Before, he'd been a fish in a pond, thinking he ruled the waters. Now, he realized he'd been tossed into the ocean—and he was nothing but a speck.

Ethan vanished—then reappeared in front of him, fist already in motion.

The punch landed like a meteor.

BOOM!

Everything in its path disintegrated. A massive trench ripped through the forest, trees obliterated, the sky above torn apart as clouds scattered in every direction.

Cassian's body exploded, leaving behind only a single crystal core, spinning through the air before clattering to the ground.

The Academy's last Instructor—dead.

One by one, humanity's strongest were falling.

The remaining House Guards—hundreds of them—were caught in the shockwave of Ethan's counterattack. Most were blown apart. The rest lay broken, dying, or already gone.

Veyra and the White Robe Order swept in to finish the job, cutting down the wounded. The battlefield descended into chaos—screams, blood, and death everywhere.

And elsewhere, not far from the carnage…

Aria and Ricky were still locked in combat—fighting with everything they had, their battle reaching a fever pitch.

…