Apocalypse: King of Zombies

Henry lifted a hand toward the sky.

Instantly, streaks of white light rained down like falling swords, spearing through one red bird after another in rapid succession.

Light-type ability—Rain of Light.

Henry finally had real AoE. For the first time in forever, he looked like he belonged in a group fight.

Next to him, Sean clenched his fist and threw a punch straight up.

A massive, translucent energy fist formed in midair, then slammed into a cluster of red birds—

They burst apart on impact, bodies snapping and scattering.

Special-type—solidified energy.

Sean had finally gotten a ranged attack too, and it wasn’t some weak poke. It hit like a truck.

Ethan watched, impressed… then turned, waiting for Chris to join in.

Chris just stood there, looking awkward as hell, hands basically useless.

Ethan blinked, then kicked on True Sight to check him.

A second later, he sighed and shook his head.

Of course.

Chris was apparently allergic to ranged combat. Even after hitting Stage B, he still hadn’t gained any real long-range attack.

His Stage B skill was a pure buff—instantly doubled his strength, but the duration was short. Ten seconds.

And his evolved ability still leaned the same way: while invisible, his attacks got a 50% strength boost.

Stack that with his black-edged weapon enhancement, and his burst would be terrifying.

But it also meant moments like this were brutal.

No ranged kit. So all he could do was glare at the sky.

Sure, his Corrupting Spear technically counted as ranged, but that thing was meant to corrode over time. Even if it hit, it wouldn’t drop these birds instantly. Against a dense swarm, using it would just be wasting mental energy.

Henry and Sean’s attacks did what Ethan hoped—stirred chaos above. The flock rippled, screeching, then responded by going even more feral, hammering the dome with everything they had.

But the barrier held like a turtle shell.

They could hit the birds.

The birds couldn’t touch them.

For the swarm, that was infuriating.

Ethan saw the exchange and made a quick decision. With a thought, he shook off the birds trying to box him in and streaked toward the dome.

Daggers spun out in a tight storm, syncing with Henry’s light rain and Sean’s energy strikes. In seconds, the air around the dome turned into a slaughter zone, red bodies dropping in clumps.

Ethan didn’t kid himself. The protective dome was strong, but tens of thousands hitting it nonstop would crack anything eventually. Everything had a limit.

”Ethan!”

”Captain!”

Inside the dome, everyone visibly loosened up when they saw him. Then their eyes dropped—locked onto the dagger under his boots.

”Telekinetic flight?!” Mia blurted.

All of them stared.

Ethan grinned. ”Heh. Pretty slick, right?”

”Insanely slick,” Skinny Pete said, awed.

Chris looked like he was about to explode. ”Ethan—can I do it too?”

He sounded half desperate.

After suffering the whole ”short reach” problem, he wanted flight more than anything.

Flint and the other mounts could fly, sure—but at Tier 12–13, if they went out there, they’d get roasted into ash in seconds.

If Chris could fly like Ethan did, he could get up there and start ripping birds apart up close.

Ethan hesitated. ”I mean… technically, yeah. But I’m the one controlling it. If I get distracted and lose focus, I might accidentally send you straight to hell.”

Chris’s expression froze.

”…Don’t care,” he said instantly. ”Let me try. I’m gonna lose my mind if I have to keep standing here.”

Ethan snorted. ”Fine. Come out.”

”Done!”

Chris turned. ”Henry—shield me!”

Henry flicked his hand, and a Divine Shield wrapped around Chris in a clean, bright layer of light.

Stage B Henry’s shield looked—and felt—way tougher than before.

Garrick opened a gap in the dome just wide enough.

Chris slipped through.

The moment he did, attacks converged on him from every direction—fire, flaming feathers, heat like a blast furnace.

But the Divine Shield caught it all.

Chris didn’t take a scratch.

Ethan flicked his mind.

A dagger shot under Chris’s boots.

Chris hopped onto it immediately, and the dagger rose fast, carrying him upward.

Ethan had the hang of it now, so the ride was steady—no embarrassing wipeouts like Ethan’s first attempt. And even though it was Chris’s first time ”riding” a flying knife, at their level, balance wasn’t exactly a problem.

In seconds, Chris was up in the open sky.

Right on cue, the shield around him—after tanking a ridiculous number of hits—finally shattered.

Ethan was already thinking, Okay, now what? How’s this idiot supposed to fight up there without getting roasted—

Chris answered him by stomping off the dagger.

He kicked down once, launched himself, and vanished midair.

A red bird suddenly jerked as if something heavy had landed on it.

Then its head popped off clean.

The body dropped like it’d been stomped out of the sky, plummeting toward the rocks below.

And then it happened again.

And again.

One red bird after another got decapitated out of nowhere, their bodies falling like cannonballs.

Ethan’s mouth curled into a grin.

Nobody else could see what was going on. He could.

Chris was invisible, bouncing from bird to bird like a lunatic—using them as stepping stones while he carved through their necks.

Kid’s got moves, Ethan thought, amused. Let’s see how you plan on getting back down.

He chuckled, then stopped babysitting.

With a teleport, Ethan slipped back inside the protective dome. He spread out a hundred-plus daggers and focused purely on output, shredding anything that got within range.

Not having to worry about defense at all—just cutting loose—felt stupidly good.

But while everyone else was enjoying themselves, Garrick was basically speedrunning a heart attack. He kept stuffing crystal cores into his mouth one after another.

The protective dome was tied directly to his mental energy. The harder the swarm hit it, the faster it drained him.

Not long after, the last group finally finished their breakthroughs.

Emily opened her eyes, saw Garrick’s pale face, and immediately linked up with him, feeding him mental energy as fast as she could.

Garrick let out a long breath. ”God… you’re finally done. Another few minutes and I was gonna crack.”

With Emily supporting him, he finally looked like he could breathe again.

Emily scratched her cheek, guilty. ”Um… sorry, Garrick. Picking my skill took a little longer than I thought.”

”It’s fine,” Garrick said, still shaken. ”Nobody picks skills casually.”

Everyone nodded. Same situation for all of them—this was their power on the line. Even if they couldn’t see skill details the way Ethan could, they still had to feel it out and make choices. Hesitation was normal.

Big Mike lifted his head, wearing that smug, punchable expression like a badge. ”Alright. Now it’s our turn.”

He attacked immediately.

The sky darkened—and then it started raining.

Not normal rain.

The droplets hit the red birds and hissed, white smoke curling off their feathers. The birds shrieked in pain, flapping wildly.

Everyone stared at Big Mike.

”Hold up,” Skinny Pete said. ”Aren’t you a fire guy? Since when are you playing water mage?”

Big Mike grinned. ”Heh. Great skill. Damage isn’t crazy, but it’s huge AoE, and it’s poisonous. Super useful.”

Ethan nodded, genuinely approving. ”Yeah. That’s a good one.”

Big Mike’s Toxic Rain didn’t instantly kill anything…

…but it threw the flock into pure chaos. The red birds panicked, beat their wings hard, and fled into the distance.

They… ran.

”Thump.”

Something heavy slammed into the ground.

A heartbeat later, a figure flickered into view on the rocks below.

”Holy shit!” Chris howled, clutching his ass and glaring up at them with pure betrayal. ”Which psycho dropped Toxic Rain?!”

Everyone’s eyes slid—slowly, mercilessly—onto Big Mike.

Big Mike blinked, totally lost. ”What? Chris, why were you up there?”

Chris’s face went red. Veins popped.

”BIG MIKE!” he roared, his voice echoing off the mountains. ”I’M GONNA KILL YOU!”