Apocalypse: King of Zombies

This is insane.

Including Wraithshade, there were now four Voidborn Undying standing in one place.

If Hexarm had to sum it up in one sentence—

Terrifying beyond belief.

His mind reeled with awe. With Wraithshade’s return and this kind of firepower backing him, Frostmere was about to be flipped on its head. Blood would rain, and chaos would reign.

Wraithshade scanned the cave, then suddenly remembered something. ”Wait—where’s Bloodleech? Wasn’t he with you?”

”Bloodleech…” Hexarm paused, trying to recall. Then he shook his head. ”We got hit hard by a Zombie Horde. Everyone got scattered.”

”I see.” Wraithshade’s tone dropped slightly. Bloodleech wasn’t just some random underling—he was one of Wraithshade’s closest lieutenants. Ever since they’d gained sentience, the three of them—Wraithshade, Hexarm, and Bloodleech—had fought side by side, rising through the ranks of Frostmere by stomping over piles of bones.

They weren’t just allies. In human terms, they were brothers-in-arms.

Hexarm’s eyes narrowed in thought. ”But don’t worry. I don’t think he’s dead. If I had to guess, he’s probably hiding out in the Deadmire region.”

”Good. Then we’ll go find him after this,” Wraithshade said, visibly relieved.

Hexarm nodded, but his expression was grim. Outside the valley, tens of thousands of zombies were swarming. If they wanted to get out, they’d have to carve a path through the horde.

”ROOOAAARRR—!”

A savage roar echoed from outside, cutting through the air like a blade. The sound of countless feet pounding the earth followed—an entire Zombie Horde was pouring into the valley.

Hexarm’s face darkened. ”Shit, Boss. That must’ve been from when you landed. The noise must’ve drawn them in!”

”Let them come,” Wraithshade said coolly, then turned to Ethan. ”What do you think? Fight or fly?”

Ethan barely glanced up. ”They’re already here. Might as well kill them all.”

His tone was casual, like he was talking about swatting flies.

He had two options: hop back on the Command Cruiser and leave, or stay and fight.

Clearly… Ethan preferred the second.

Because this was the perfect chance to test out the Saber Corps in real combat. And he was itching to see what they could do.

Hexarm and the others were stunned. Ethan’s attitude was so relaxed, like this was just a warm-up.

Was he serious?

And then Hexarm noticed something else—something subtle, but telling. Wraithshade hadn’t made the call himself. He’d asked Ethan first. There was a hint of deference in his tone, like he was following Ethan’s lead.

That alone said everything.

This guy… is terrifying.

Wraithshade grinned wide, revealing four rows of razor-sharp teeth. Ethan’s answer was exactly what he wanted to hear.

”Alright then—get ready for battle!”

...

Outside the valley, the ground trembled under the weight of the incoming horde.

A sea of zombies surged forward, flooding the landscape like a tidal wave. They trampled over each other in a frenzy, eyes wild, limbs flailing, driven by pure madness.

The horde was massive—over a hundred thousand strong.

Leading them was a Zombie King named Big Razorclaw, an SS-rank speed-type. His body was built like a tank, especially his legs, which bulged with muscle like coiled springs.

He stood with arms crossed atop a dirt mound, eyes scanning the battlefield as his horde charged ahead.

Behind him, several elite zombie lieutenants stood at attention, gazing toward the depths of the valley.

”Big Razorclaw, that loud crash just now—it came from up ahead!”

”Yeah,” Razorclaw growled, eyes gleaming with bloodlust. ”I’m betting that’s where Wraithshade’s leftovers are hiding.”

One of his lieutenants frowned, scratching his head. ”But… I think I saw something fall from the sky. Something big.”

”Doesn’t matter what it was,” Razorclaw sneered. ”Whatever it is—we crush it.”

With that, he and his inner circle of Zombie Kings charged toward the source of the noise.

Behind them, the monstrous horde surged forward like a living avalanche.

...

Inside the Command Cruiser, three thousand elite zombies stood in formation, each gripping a gleaming Lightsaber, their bodies tense, their eyes glowing with anticipation. They looked less like soldiers and more like machines of war—primed, precise, and moments away from being unleashed.

Not far from them was the armory—a sleek, high-tech chamber lined with weapons that looked like they belonged in a sci-fi blockbuster. Mounted on the walls were rows of Crystal Core Firearms, each one pulsing faintly with energy, their designs sharp and futuristic.

”Damn! These are sick!” Big Ears and the rest of the Overlord Squad—four quirky but deadly zombies—stared wide-eyed, practically drooling over the arsenal.

They hadn’t been assigned Guard Mechs, and they didn’t make the cut for Lightsabers either. But the firearms? There were enough to go around, and Ethan didn’t care much for them. To him, they were just toys—leftovers from the human military. So he let the squad have their fun.

Big Ears slung a Crystal Core Hand-Cannon over his back. The weapon shimmered with a deep blue glow, looking every bit as badass as it was dangerous.

It was embedded with an S-class crystal core—a serious piece of firepower. Big Ears was only A-rank, so handling it would be a stretch, but he was determined to make it work.

Shrimpy squinted at him. ”Big Ears, that’s an S-class Crystal Core Hand-Cannon. The recoil on that thing could snap you in half. You sure you can handle it?”

Big Ears puffed out his chest. ”Please. If there’s one thing I can handle, it’s a big gun.”

Shrimpy smirked. ”Yeah? Then why don’t you let me test it—y’know, just to be safe?”

Big Ears clutched the cannon tighter. ”Not a chance. Go find your own toy.”

Shrimpy rolled his eyes. ”Figures…”

There was only one S-class Hand-Cannon in the whole armory—originally meant for a commander. Rare, powerful, and now in the hands of a zombie with more guts than sense.

Soon, the squad had all picked their weapons—rifles, shotguns, launchers—each one powered by crystal cores, each one deadly in its own right.

”Alright, boys,” Big Ears barked, slamming a fist into his palm. ”Time to earn our keep. Our job’s to back up the Saber Corps and wipe out that damn Zombie Horde!”

”Got it!”

”Let’s go!”

Shrimpy and the others shouted in unison, pumped and ready.

Big Ears grinned. ”Lock and load! Move out!”

...

Outside the Command Cruiser, the ground trembled beneath the weight of the incoming horde. The air was thick with growls, snarls, and the thunder of countless feet—like a stampede of death.

Ethan stood atop a nearby ridge, arms crossed, calmly surveying the chaos. The enemy numbers? Roughly a hundred thousand.

He did the math in his head. With three thousand Saber Corps elites, each one only needed to take down a few dozen zombies. Easy.

He didn’t even plan to deploy the 500 Guard Mechs—not yet. Those things burned through energy like crazy, and recharging them out here was a pain. Better to save them for when things got really bad.

Behind him, Laura and Bloodveil stood watching, neither making a move to join the fight. They were just enjoying the show—two apex predators waiting to see how the warm-up act played out.

Down in the valley, Big Razorclaw led the charge, his bloodlust practically radiating off him. His horde surged forward like a tidal wave.

Then, up ahead, a massive figure appeared—six arms, towering frame, unmistakable silhouette.

”Hey… isn’t that Hexarm?” one of Razorclaw’s lieutenants said, eyes narrowing. ”Knew it. Wraithshade’s leftovers.”

”Big Razorclaw, if we take him out, that’s a huge win. Lord Abyssion will be thrilled,” another said, practically bouncing with excitement.

But Razorclaw raised a hand. ”Hold up…”

His eyes narrowed, gears turning.

”I think we should try to flip him. Hexarm was Wraithshade’s right hand—he might know where the rest of the stragglers are hiding.”

”Ooh, smart! That’s why you’re the boss, Big Razorclaw!” his minions chimed in, full of flattery.

The horde slowed, halting just outside the valley. Instead of charging, they spread out in a wide arc, surrounding Hexarm’s position like a noose tightening.

Razorclaw stepped forward, arms crossed, his expression cocky as hell. ”Well, well, look who it is. Hiding out here like a rat.”

Hexarm didn’t flinch. ”Yeah, it’s me. So what?”

”Oh?” Razorclaw raised a brow, surprised by the defiance. ”Still got some spine, huh?”

He smirked. ”Hexarm, I’m giving you a way out. Your boss has left Frostmere—he’s never coming back. But you? You’ve got talent. How about joining us instead?”

...