Apocalypse: King of Zombies

As the second Titan Ape hit the ground with a heavy crash, Chris didn’t waste a second. Ignoring the pain radiating through his ribs, he quickly extracted the crystal core from the creature’s skull and rushed it over to Ethan.

Ethan took the core, tossed it into his mouth, and swallowed it whole without blinking.

With two high-grade crystal cores now in his system, Ethan’s strength surged dramatically.

The change was immediate and obvious—where once a direct clash with the Tier 10 Titan Ape would send him flying like a ragdoll, now he was only getting pushed back a dozen steps. It still hurt like hell, and he wasn’t miraculously stronger than the enemy—but he wasn’t getting tossed like a sandbag anymore.

He could stand his ground now.

Fueled by new power and adrenaline, Ethan grinned wide, battle-drunk and bold. His poleaxe slashed and chopped through the air in wild, sweeping arcs—each swing full of fury.

The Titan Ape, meanwhile, was livid.

What the hell was this? Wasn’t this supposed to be a beatdown? A show of dominance?

At first, it hadn’t cared about Ethan’s slippery tactics. Small fry with a neat trick. It had the advantage in raw power, tier, and endurance. One mistake on Ethan’s part, and it would’ve ended this with a single slap.

But now?

Now the little bastard was cheating. Power boosts mid-fight? Who even does that?

The Titan Ape’s red eyes flashed toward what was left of its squad—just two comrades, both badly wounded.

It snapped its gaze back to Ethan, let out a thunderous roar, one that all but screamed: Just you wait!

Then it turned—and bolted.

Barked a guttural command to its remaining allies and sprinted toward the forest beyond.

Ethan didn’t even blink.

One quick-blink Teleportation dropped him straight into the Titan Ape’s escape path.

He raised his poleaxe and brought it down in a brutal cleave.

BOOM—!

The Titan Ape raised its fist in time. The two attacks collided, and Ethan was forced back again, skidding ten or so steps—but he’d stopped the Ape dead in its tracks.

The beast roared in frustration, an unspoken warning—one last ”Back off or else.”

Ethan’s only response was a cold smile and another charge.

No chance in hell he was letting it run.

The Titan Ape growled low, teeth bared. With a frustrated snarl, it lunged in again, forced into fighting whether it wanted to or not.

Across the battlefield, the last two Tier 9 Apes tried to retreat as well—but the rest of the squad wasn’t having it.

Four against one? If they let a Titan Ape escape under those odds, they might as well quit the business.

Besides, those two were already done for—bloodied, bruised, their once terrifying strength all but depleted.

Even Tier 9 Titan Apes couldn’t keep rampaging forever. Sean and the others couldn’t finish them off in one clean hit like Chris could, but their attacks hurt like hell all the same.

At first, the beasts had shrugged it off.

Now? Their injuries were beyond recovery.

The two Apes could no longer flatten someone with a single punch. And if they couldn’t send defenders flying, then they were forced to stay in the brawl—and endure a merciless group beatdown.

Finally, after a relentless barrage of strikes, elemental abilities, and raw weapons, the last two Titan Apes went down—foaming at the mouth, twitching, and very, very dead.

”Holy—hell…” Sean collapsed onto the dirt, all strength gone.

The others practically fell with him, some lying flat, others sitting hard with groans and curses under their breath.

That fight had sucked the life out of them.

Everyone’s ribs felt like they’d been pulverized into powder. Titan Ape punches weren’t just heavy—they were fight-ending. If it hadn’t been for Henry sprinting nonstop with his healing ability, they’d have been wiped out three times over.

Moments like this really put the spotlight on how critical healing-type Awakened were.

Henry had been a godsend—constantly running, healing, chugging crystal cores just to keep pace. He hadn’t stopped moving the entire battle.

Eight Tier 8 Awakened versus four Tier 9 mutant beasts—not just any Tier 9s either, but Titan Apes? Yeah. That wasn’t supposed to be doable.

If Chris hadn’t landed those two perfectly timed, lethal sneak attacks, healing wouldn’t have been enough. Someone would’ve died.

But in the end, they’d pulled through.

”Chris, get those cores to Ethan,” Garrick said hoarsely. ”That fight’s still going.”

”On it.”

Chris nodded and knelt beside the two fallen Apes, working fast to extract the remaining crystal cores from their skulls.

With both in hand, he disappeared into stealth and sprinted toward Ethan again.

But before he could say a word, Ethan spoke.

”Just give me one,” Ethan said, still locked in combat, voice calm amid the chaos. ”Take the other to Skinny Pete. Tell him to push up to Tier 9 ASAP. Then have Bengal Tiger Goldie and Speckles eat the Tier 9 bodies. Get them promoted fast—I have a feeling this forest has more shit waiting for us.”

Chris blinked.

Made sense.

Sure, giving both cores to Ethan would beef him up a little more, but it wouldn’t change the game. Not where he was right now.

Past Tier 6, crystal cores became heavy currency. You needed nine of the same tier just to reach peak within your current rank.

And sure—Ethan had his nightly mystical stargazing ritual that helped him gain energy passively, but two more cores wouldn’t push him past Tier 9.

Not anytime soon.

Giving one to Skinny Pete meant they could unlock another Tier 9 on their side—and then Bengal Tiger Goldie and Speckles could stop holding back, eat the Titan Ape corpses, and break through without resistance.

Two more powerful beasts on their side? That was serious firepower.

Ethan was playing the long game.

Chris gave a quick nod, then tossed one of the Tier 9 crystal cores toward Ethan.

”Ethan, want us to come give you a hand?”

”No need,” Ethan said, eyes locked on the Titan Ape. ”You guys are too far below this thing in power. It’s too dangerous if you step in. I can kill this bastard myself.”

Chris sighed, but didn’t argue. ”Alright.”

He turned and left—fast.

That Titan Ape had just looked in his direction. And yeah, he was still cloaked, but he’d just opened his damn mouth. The beast might not see him, but it could definitely use that roar-level hearing to clue in on where the voice had come from.

The look in the Titan Ape’s eyes? Pure murder.

Yeah… it definitely saw Chris as the one helping Ethan ”cheat,” and now it was probably adding ”kill this little bastard first” to its to-do list.

Nope. Time to bail.

Chris rushed back to the rest of the squad and immediately handed the remaining Tier 9 core to Skinny Pete.

”Orders from Ethan—get yourself to Tier 9. Once you’re up, get Goldie and Speckles eating the Titan Apes. We need them powered up as soon as possible.”

”Got it.”

Skinny Pete didn’t hesitate. If the captain had decided, that was that. And to be honest, he’d been walking on eggshells already. Goldie and Speckles had been at the peak of Tier 8 for a while, teetering on evolution. Holding them back had been nerve-wracking as hell.

Right now, with his own Tier 8 mental strength, controlling one Tier 9 and two Tier 8 mutant beasts was the limit. If all three hit Tier 9 before he leveled up, he could get backlash—if not straight-up mutiny from the beasts. Mental collapse wasn’t off the table… and when that happens, not even Henry would be able to save him.

Skinny Pete sat down without a word and popped the core into his mouth, swallowing it whole.

The rest of the squad stood up groaning and limping, quickly forming a protective circle around him.

Meanwhile, on Ethan’s end...

With a second crystal core fueling him, the gap between Ethan and the Tier 10 Titan Ape had narrowed even further.

Now, with his poleaxe and his weapon mastery, he could meet the beast blow-for-blow. No more trading hits and getting rag-dolled. He wasn’t just surviving anymore—he was hunting.

And that was bad news for the Titan Ape.

It didn’t want to fight anymore.

What it wanted was out.

But every time it tried to retreat, Ethan would blink straight into its path. That goddamn Teleportation—there was nowhere to run.

Its massive arms were a shredded mess, muscles and skin torn wide open, bone cracking underneath. Ethan’s poleaxe had bitten down over and over, and now, grim reality had started setting in for the beast.

If this keeps up… I’m going to die here.

Panic crept in. It needed an out, fast.

Its eyes locked onto the squad clustered together around Skinny Pete.

Opportunity.

With a surge of desperation, the Titan Ape roared and charged straight toward them.

Ethan clocked its intent instantly.

Teleportation—blink.

He appeared right in front of it again, poleaxe raised high for a downward cleave.

But this time—the Titan Ape didn’t block.

Didn’t slow.

Its fist came flying toward Ethan’s chest without hesitation.

A brutal trade was on the table.

Either Ethan dodged…and let the beast reach his team.

Or he stayed.

Took the hit.

But got a clean shot right on its head.

There was no middle ground.

Ethan’s eyes went cold. No flinch, no pause.

He didn’t dodge.

Instead, he poured everything into his arms—the poleaxe shimmering with condensed force.

BOOM.

BOOM.

Two earth-shaking impacts struck almost at the exact same moment.

Ethan’s poleaxe slammed deep into the Titan Ape’s skull with a wet crunch, driving straight down, power tearing through bone.

But at the same time—

CRACK!

The Titan Ape’s full-force punch smashed into Ethan’s chest.

Blood burst from Ethan’s mouth as he was sent sailing backward. His body rocketed into a tree with a sickening thunk, bark splintering on impact. He bounced off, crashed to the ground—and coughed up another mouthful of blood.

He didn’t move.

The Titan Ape was a wreck—even more than before. Skull split open, blood pouring from the wound—but it wasn’t dead yet.

And now, it didn’t care.

With a guttural, furious howl, it ignored its own agony, spun toward the group—and charged.