Apocalypse: King of Zombies

Since Heartland—the most technologically advanced region on the zombie continent Necroterra—had picked up the signal, a good number of Zombie Kings had flown in to Eastreach.

All eyes turned skyward as the crowd of Zombie Kings looked up, watching intently.

The ones arriving from Heartland drew even more attention.

”Another big shot just landed!”

”Who do you think it is this time?”

”No clue…”

”…”

Moments later, the roar of a descending aircraft filled the air. Its thrusters flared, then cut off with a loud clang as it touched down, bouncing slightly on impact and kicking up a thick cloud of dust.

As the hatch hissed open, a group of Zombie Kings stepped out.

They were no pushovers—each one was at least SS-rank.

Leading the pack was a towering figure, easily ten feet tall. He was shirtless, his body a mass of bulging muscle like a living mountain. His skin was a mottled gray-blue, and thick veins coiled beneath it like snakes, pulsing with raw energy.

He had to duck slightly to exit the aircraft. His narrow, triangular eyes scanned the crowd, and when he grinned, two rows of razor-sharp fangs gleamed in the light.

”Bloodveil, I’m back.”

”Hahahaha! Ragnar!” Bloodveil greeted him with open arms, his tone warm and welcoming as he rushed forward.

The other Zombie Kings clearly recognized him too—Ragnar was a regular at the Eastreach hunting grounds.

”Knew it was him!”

”Ragnar’s back again…”

”Damn, did he just break through to SSS-rank? He looks way stronger than before!”

”Do you even have to ask? Of course he did.”

”Heartland Zombie Kings never disappoint!”

”…”

Ethan studied the newcomer, taking in his massive frame and the sheer force of his presence. The guy radiated raw power—definitely SSS-level.

His overall impression? About on par with Gravestone…

”Bloodveil,” Ragnar boomed, his voice like a war drum, ”what’s up with this place always getting overrun by Xenobeasts? You guys are way behind Heartland.”

”Hahaha, you’re right, you’re right,” Bloodveil replied with a laugh, playing along. ”That’s why we’re counting on all of you. Now that you’re here, our odds of taking down those Xenobeasts just went up.”

”Wait a sec—how’d you know I broke through to SSS?” Ragnar suddenly asked, his tone shifting as he raised an eyebrow.

”Uh…” Even smooth-talking Bloodveil froze for a second. Had he actually said that?

It was obvious—Ragnar was showing off, and not even trying to hide it.

”I’m here for one reason only,” Ragnar declared, puffing out his chest. ”To hunt down the Overmind Queen of the parasitic monsters!”

”Ah, yes, of course!” Bloodveil nodded quickly, eager to keep him happy.

The two Zombie Kings kept chatting, tossing around empty pleasantries and meaningless small talk.

Ethan watched them, unimpressed. So this Ragnar guy was from Heartland, huh? Still, he seemed like a loudmouthed idiot riding on his reputation.

How the hell did someone like that manage to hit SSS-rank?

Just then, Ragnar seemed to remember something. He turned to the group and asked, ”Oh yeah—our boss has been looking for a Zombie King who came from another planet. Supposedly wears a white dress shirt. Any of you seen him?”

”White shirt? Hmm… definitely not around here in Eastreach,” Bloodveil replied. He’d actually gotten that same inquiry before.

Back then, he’d been just as confused.

A Zombie King… from another planet? What the hell does that even mean?

”Yeah.” Ragnar nodded, clearly convinced that Eastreach wasn’t the place.

With so many Zombie Kings gathered here from all over Necroterra, he figured this was the perfect chance to dig around and get some intel—something his boss had specifically told him to do before he left.

Ethan stood nearby, quietly observing.

No doubt about it… this Ragnar was the same guy who’d once been set to descend on Earth with that Voidborn Undying freak. One of his lackeys.

Ragnar made the rounds, asking each Zombie King in turn. One by one, they all shook their heads.

None of them had heard anything about a Zombie King from another planet.

Eventually, Ragnar turned toward Ethan. ”Umbradrake. Heard you’re the new Overlord of Southvale. You guys down there hear anything about this?”

”Nope,” Ethan replied without hesitation.

Ragnar nodded, not even questioning it. ”Makes sense. If that off-world Zombie King had shown up in Southvale, you probably wouldn’t be Overlord right now.”

”Oh? So this guy’s that strong?” Ethan asked, playing along.

”Stronger than you, that’s for sure. My boss even got his ass handed to him by the guy once. Think about that…” Ragnar paused, as if about to say more, then stopped himself. ”And he’s got… ah, forget it. Telling you won’t help anyway.”

After asking around and coming up empty, Ragnar was clearly getting frustrated. He mulled it over silently. He’d already questioned most of the Zombie Kings from all the major regions of Necroterra, and still hadn’t gotten a single lead.

”Could it be… he never came to Necroterra at all?” That was the only conclusion that made sense.

After all, Originis was a massive planet. There was the human-controlled Terran Reach, the Xenobeast-infested Xenorift, the chaotic Exile Zone in between, and even the irradiated wastelands…

One of the Zombie Kings behind him chimed in, analyzing the situation. ”Ragnar, I doubt he’s in Terran Reach or the Exile Zone. No way a Zombie King could survive in either of those places. If he’s here at all, Xenorift’s the most likely spot.”

”Hmm… yeah, that tracks.” Ragnar nodded. ”Perfect. Once I take down the Overmind Queen of the parasitic monsters, I’ll ask her if she’s seen any off-world Zombie Kings in Xenorift.”

”Sure, but if he really is in Xenorift, tracking him down won’t be easy,” the other Zombie King added.

And so, Ethan stood there quietly, listening as they loudly plotted… how to find him.

More aircraft continued to arrive overhead, one after another. Zombie Kings from all across Necroterra disembarked—each more bizarre-looking than the last. Some were grotesque, others downright alien in appearance.

Meanwhile, the undead horde surrounding the nest kept growing.

They were savage, restless, itching for the hunt. As soon as the sun dipped below the horizon, the ”Feast of the Hunt” would begin.

Led by these powerful Zombie Kings, they’d charge into battle against the Xenobeasts, reclaim lost ground, and drive those monsters back to whatever hellhole they crawled out of.

The sky was darkening fast.

Three suns hovered low on the horizon, their last rays bleeding across the clouds in a fiery red glow.

The land below was bleak and silent, steeped in a grim, warlike tension.

Ethan stood on a raised stone platform, gazing out at the endless sea of undead stretching before him. The sheer number of them was staggering—an ocean of corpses, with no end in sight.

Low growls and snarls rippled through the crowd like a war chant, the sound of an army ready to march.

”Boss… you think we can win this war?” Hammerhead asked, standing beside him.

”No idea,” Ethan said casually. ”But I know I’ll win.”

”Uh…” Hammerhead blinked, then chuckled as he caught the meaning. ”The parasitic monsters aren’t that tough, really. The problem is their damn camouflage. Always sneaking around, ambushing us. And they’re almost impossible to spot.”

”Yeah. I had a friend once—got tricked by them three or four times,” Ethan said offhandedly.

Hammerhead looked stunned. ”Three or four times? Damn, that’s… that’s just dumb. Lucky bastard’s still alive though…”

A cold wind howled across the plateau.

Not far off, Bloodveil—the Overlord of Eastreach—stood surrounded by his crew of Zombie Kings. Ragnar was among them, chatting and laughing in small groups.

Ethan, on the other hand, had no entourage. Just Hammerhead, who he’d picked up along the way. The two of them stood alone at the edge of the stone platform, looking a little out of place amid the sea of powerhouses.

…