Apocalypse: King of Zombies

When the Zombie Kings heard this, their fierce eyes lit up with a cold gleam. A collective sigh of relief swept through them—they finally felt like things were turning in their favor. With Gravestone stepping in, Umbradrake’s days of swaggering around were numbered.

They were ready to join forces and wipe out the menace of Southvale once and for all.

Gravestone, meanwhile, was silently calculating. He had his own reasons for getting involved. After all, Umbradrake wasn’t just any undead—he was known as The Voidborn Undying. Taking him down would earn a coveted SSS-grade crystal core. That kind of prize? Hard to resist.

Sure, these other Zombie Kings weren’t exactly powerhouses, but they’d do as backup.

With their combined strength, crushing Umbradrake would be a walk in the park.

”Let’s get ready,” Gravestone said coolly. ”We’re going straight for Draconis Citadel.”

”Hell yeah!”

The Zombie Kings roared in agreement, their bloodlust practically radiating off them.

They’d been pushed around by Umbradrake for far too long, and all that pent-up rage was ready to explode. Now that revenge was finally within reach, they were going to make damn sure Umbradrake paid the price.

Soon, zombie nests across the region began to stir. The restless undead were itching for a fight, desperate to unleash their fury.

All of Southvale was suddenly thick with the scent of war. The air grew heavy, tense—like the calm before a storm. A massive battle was brewing, and everyone could feel it.

Umbradrake, that reckless shit-stirrer, had finally gone too far—and now the whole damn region was out for blood.

Over the past few days, Umbradrake had sensed something was off. The atmosphere felt... wrong. So he holed up inside his zombie nest, keeping a low profile. No more raiding livestock, no more extortion. He locked the place down tight and didn’t step outside.

His lair was pretty well-fortified—easy to defend, hard to breach.

Instead, he sent out a few of his underlings to scout the area and report back.

”Boss! Boss! We’ve got a serious problem!” Howler burst in, panting, eyes wide with panic.

Umbradrake glanced at him, unfazed. This guy was always freaking out—he was used to it by now.

”What is it this time? You’re supposed to be one of The Voidborn Undying’s elite. Can you try not to lose your shit every five minutes?”

”No, seriously—this is bad. The surrounding zombie nests are teaming up. They’re saying they’re gonna flatten Draconis Citadel!”

”Oh...”

Umbradrake didn’t look too worried. He’d pissed off plenty of Zombie Kings before. At this point, he was used to it—like having too many fleas to care about the itch.

”They’re just making noise. Bluffing. Trying to scare us into backing off. They won’t actually attack. Let ’em rant for a few days—they’ll get bored and move on.”

”Boss, I don’t think this is just noise. Word is, Gravestone’s troops are mobilizing too. They’re migrating en masse—heading our way.”

”What? Gravestone?!”

Now that got Umbradrake’s attention. His expression shifted instantly—panic creeping in. He’d heard of Gravestone. That guy was the real deal. A true Voidborn Undying.

Shit. Were they actually serious this time?

”Where are they now?” Umbradrake asked, voice tight.

”No clue,” Howler said, shaking his head. ”But even if they’re coming straight here, it’ll take them at least ten to fifteen days.”

Necroterra was massive. The zombie nests were spread far apart, and for undead who had to walk everywhere, migration was a huge undertaking.

That’s why Gravestone hadn’t come after Umbradrake before—it just wasn’t worth the effort. Too far, too risky. If something went wrong, the whole operation could fall apart.

Plus, moving that many zombies left their home base vulnerable to attack.

So every zombie war was a calculated move. This time, though, the major Zombie Kings had banded together and convinced Gravestone to lead the charge. He must’ve felt confident enough to go all in.

”Boss, what do we do? Gravestone’s the Overlord of Southvale. He’s got elite troops and tons of firepower. If he really shows up, we’re screwed!” Howler was practically vibrating with anxiety.

Umbradrake paced for a moment, thinking hard. Then his eyes lit up.

”I’ve got it. We’re heading to Solaris Citadel.”

A tidal wave of undead fury was sweeping across Southvale. The region, usually quiet and grim, hadn’t seen this kind of movement in ages.

But on the edge of The Exile Zone, Solaris Citadel remained untouched.

The forest there was lush, flowers blooming in the undergrowth. It was strangely peaceful—almost serene.

Umbradrake came barreling in with Howler and a few of his zombie lackeys, moving fast and looking rattled. He knew the way well—after all, he’d been here plenty of times to deliver pigs. This was familiar ground.

Big Ears and his crew heard the commotion and quickly came out to meet them.

But when they saw Umbradrake show up empty-handed, with just a handful of underlings and no pigs in sight, they couldn’t help but look confused.

”Where’s the pig?” Big Ears asked, straight to the point.

”Pig?!” Umbradrake nearly exploded. ”All you ever care about is pigs! We’ve got a full-blown crisis on our hands!”

He slapped his thigh in frustration, practically hopping with anxiety.

Big Ears crossed his arms, calm as ever, not the least bit fazed.

”Relax. What crisis? Come on, tell Big Ears all about it.”

”Gravestone—the Overlord of Southvale—is coming for me! He’s mobilized millions of zombies. A full-scale horde is headed this way! You think I’m overreacting?!”

Umbradrake was practically shouting now, trying to get across just how serious this was.

”Oh,” Big Ears said with a nod, still completely unfazed. ”Well, they’re coming for you, not us. So… not really our problem.”

”WHAT?!”

Umbradrake stared at him, dumbfounded, his jaw practically hitting the floor.

”Big Ears, don’t you dare play dumb with me! You’re the one who told me to go shake them down in the first place! If it weren’t for you, none of this would’ve happened! And now that they’re coming for blood, you’re just gonna wash your hands of it?!”

”We’re not washing our hands of anything,” Big Ears said coolly. ”I’m just saying—you’re not the shit-stirrer anymore. You’re the scapegoat.”

The zombies behind him—Shrimpy and the others—burst into applause.

”Damn, Big Ears never misses. Every line’s a classic.”

”Yeah, that one really hits the mark.”

”...”

Umbradrake stood there frozen, completely stunned.

What the hell was happening?

He’d always thought of himself as a cunning mastermind, but now it felt like he’d been played—by these clowns, no less.

Just as he was about to lose it, a figure in a white lab coat stepped out from the zombie nest. Calm, composed, with a monocle perched on one eye.

Behind him followed several powerful-looking Zombie Kings—Samara, Mad Dog, and T-Rex. The infamous Japanese Iron Trio. Each one radiated a deadly aura, their presence alone enough to make the air feel heavier.

Umbradrake’s eyes lit up the moment he saw them.

”PhD! Thank god you’re here! Gravestone’s coming for us—you’re not just gonna stand by and do nothing, right?”

”Relax,” PhD said evenly. ”We won’t just sit this one out.”

Hearing that, Umbradrake finally let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. Damn, PhD always came through. There was just something about this Zombie King that made him feel safe.

”See? Way more reliable than Big Ears…” Umbradrake muttered under his breath.

Big Ears, with his superhuman hearing, raised an eyebrow. ”Oh yeah? And what exactly makes me unreliable?”

”Big Ears,” PhD cut in smoothly, ”why don’t you head back to the livestock pens? Make sure the pigs are taken care of.”

”Got it.” Big Ears didn’t argue. He turned and started walking back toward the pens with his crew, shrugging as he went.

”Told you. I saw this zombie horde thing coming a mile away.”

”Yeah, yeah,” Shrimpy chimed in, nodding. ”Honestly, when I saw Umbradrake and his crew show up, I thought maybe they brought something useful. Turns out it’s just them. We’d probably be better off trading them for a few pigs.”

...