Apocalypse: King of Zombies

One by one, the Zombie Kings arrived, each radiating an overwhelming aura of power.

Pickle was completely surrounded. His eyes were filled with despair as he stared blankly at the scene unfolding around him.

”Why…?”

”Why would a Zombie Leader from some backwater outpost get this many Zombie Kings to come bail him out?”

He just couldn’t wrap his head around it. It didn’t make any sense.

Bulldozer rumbled in his deep, dopey voice, ”What’s there to figure out? I’m in trouble, of course they’re gonna show up. Don’t Zombie Kings help each other out in your nest?”

”Uh…” Pickle froze, his expression stiffening. That comment hit like a dagger to the chest.

Man… that cut deep.

Because if he were the one in trouble, there’s no way this many Zombie Kings would come running.

They were both leaders from the outskirts, so why was the difference between them so damn huge?

That’s when Pickle suddenly realized—this group of zombies… they weren’t like the ones from your average nest.

”Bulldozer! Take him out!” Big Ears shouted from a distance.

”On it.” Bulldozer replied casually, raising his massive fist and slamming it down with terrifying force.

Feeling the crushing pressure bearing down on him, Pickle looked up, dazed. The fist grew larger and larger in his pupils, and he didn’t even try to resist.

BOOM!

With a thunderous crash, the zombie was obliterated.

Smashed flat—like a literal pickle.

And just like that, every last Heartland zombie in the nest had been wiped out.

Laura scanned the area, then said, ”Looks like there aren’t any powerful Zombie Kings left in Southvale. Just scraps now. I think it’s time to tell PhD to bring in the Dreadnought-class Starcruiser.”

”Yeah, we should start moving toward Heartland,” little shadow rasped. ”Boss is probably already there.”

The other Zombie Kings all tensed with anticipation. That meant the war for Heartland was one step closer.

Bulldozer’s face lit up with excitement. ”Then let’s get moving! Boss might be waiting for us. I’m gonna tear those Heartland Zombie Kings to shreds!”

Laura shot him a look and smirked. ”You know what you should be tearing into? Your own limits. Sprout’s already evolved into a Voidborn Undying, and someone who joined before him still hasn’t even broken into SS-rank.”

With that parting jab, she turned and walked off, cool as ever.

”Uh…” Bulldozer blinked, suddenly feeling a little off.

Wait a sec… who’s she talking about?

Don’t tell me… she meant me?

Even though Laura had already become a Voidborn Undying, she hadn’t lost her old habits—like throwing shade at Bulldozer whenever she got the chance. The two of them bickered constantly.

Little shadow walked over slowly and tried to comfort him. ”Bulldozer, I think Queen Laura was just trying to motivate you. With your strength, I’m sure you’ll evolve soon.”

”Oh, by the way,” Bulldozer said, ignoring the pep talk, ”didn’t you join our nest before Sprout too?”

”Uh… yeah, I think so. A little earlier. Why?”

Bulldozer said it straight: ”Then that ’someone’ Laura mentioned must’ve been you.”

little shadow: ”…”

”…”

On the other side of the battlefield, the four zombies of the ”Overlord Squad” finally let out a collective sigh of relief. That had been the closest call they’d ever faced—easily the biggest crisis in their undead lives. They’d almost been toast.

If Pickle hadn’t shown up to stop Thornessa… or if Lil’ Shroom had arrived just a little later…

”The path to becoming an Overlord is never easy,” Big Ears muttered, still shaken. ”Fighting the Heartland zombies… damn, that was brutal.”

”Big Ears, are you okay? Your wounds healed yet?” Shrimpy walked over, concern in his voice.

”Not even close… still hurts like hell!” Big Ears winced as he shifted, his face twisting in pain. The aftermath of being wrapped in Thornessa’s vines was no joke—there were still a bunch of thorns embedded deep in his flesh. ”My back’s killing me. Think I got some stuck back there too. Shrimpy, can you check?”

”Uh, sure.” Shrimpy nodded and leaned in to take a look. Sure enough, there was a thick thorn jammed into Big Ears’ back—about the size of a pinky finger, sharp as a dagger.

Yikes… that’s nasty.

Shrimpy muttered to himself, then carefully grabbed the thorn and started to pull it out.

Schlurp!

A wet, squelching sound filled the air as a gush of dark, clotted blood sprayed out.

”AAAH! Shit—! That hurts!!”

Big Ears’ whole body jerked as he screamed in agony.

Shrimpy panicked, totally freaked out. Without thinking, he shoved the thorn right back in.

”…”

—

Meanwhile, in Heartland, the towering peaks of The Origin Mountain loomed high, stretching endlessly across the horizon. Several jagged summits pierced the clouds like ancient swords.

Massive, monstrous birds circled the skies, their piercing cries echoing through the mountains, long and haunting.

At the summit stood a colossal structure—an ancient relic of a lost civilization, grand and imposing like a palace carved from time itself.

A lone figure stood at the entrance, gazing out over the vast mountain range with a quiet, commanding presence.

He wore a flowing black robe. His skin was pale, his features sharp and chiseled like a sculpture—handsome in a way that felt almost unreal. The setting sun lit up his perfect profile, casting a golden glow across his long, narrow eyes, which held a calm, unreadable depth.

This was the Overlord of Heartland. The Deathless Sovereign known as Endless.

He had ruled over the Necroterra continent for decades—unmatched, undefeated, untouched. Since the day he rose, he had never lost a single battle. Hell, he’d never even been injured.

”It’s been a long time… since any zombies dared challenge Heartland,” Endless said softly, eyes fixed on the horizon, his voice tinged with nostalgia.

Behind him, a tall, elegant female figure approached, her long legs moving with effortless grace.

”Maybe it’s time we got a little exercise ourselves,” she said with a smirk.

She was stunning—curves in all the right places, tall and poised. Despite being a Zombie King, she looked completely human. Not a trace of decay or rot. That was the mark of evolution at its peak.

She was Lilith, the second-strongest Deathless Sovereign in Heartland.

Heartland had five Deathless Sovereigns in total, but even among them, there was a clear hierarchy. They were split into two tiers: The Elite Three and The Lesser Two.

The Elite Three: Endless, Lilith, and Nightwraith.

The Lesser Two: Gorthas and Nerissa.

Each one ruled a different territory around The Origin Mountain, guarding their domains with absolute authority.

Now, with the rest of Necroterra in chaos—wars breaking out, zombie hordes sweeping across the land—the tide was turning toward Heartland.

And so, the five Deathless Sovereigns had gathered here, preparing for a war council.

Before long, the remaining three arrived. Gorthas and Nerissa came by conventional means, but Nightwraith… he just appeared out of thin air.

Now, with all five assembled, the Sovereigns of Heartland stood atop the mountain, like gods surveying their kingdom. They were the apex predators of the planet Originis—undisputed, unrivaled.

”My subordinate, Zombie King Ravager, went to Westmarch,” Gorthas said, frowning. ”Still hasn’t come back.”

”Looks like the Westmarch zombies have joined the fight too,” Lilith said flatly, her beautiful face unreadable.

Gorthas’ eyes darkened. ”Those zombies… they’ve got a death wish. They’re all converging on Heartland. Should we send some of our forces to intercept them before they get here?”

”No need,” Endless said calmly. ”Even if we send troops, they won’t be able to take out the key Zombie Kings. It’d be pointless… and they’d just get picked off one by one. Might as well be sending them to die. If they want to come—let them. We’ll be waiting.”

”Oh?” Gorthas raised an eyebrow, surprised. ”You think those Zombie Kings from the outer regions are really that capable?”

…