Apocalypse: King of Zombies

Maybe it was the effect of the mysterious energy, but the trees on the mountain were growing wild—thick trunks nearly two feet across were everywhere.

Before the apocalypse, trees like this existed, sure, but they were rare. Now, they were the norm.

And it wasn’t just the trees. The underbrush had gone insane too. Some of the tall grass had grown over ten feet high, completely wrecking visibility and cranking the danger level up another notch.

As they moved deeper, they kept spotting mutant beasts—rabbits, squirrels, and the like.

None of them attacked. The moment they sensed the group, they bolted and vanished into the brush.

That was probably instinct—animals had a natural sense for danger. If Ethan’s team had been weaker, those same beasts might’ve pounced instead of running.

But Ethan didn’t go after them. This trip wasn’t about hunting. Not yet. They were here to scout, to get a feel for what lived in these mountains.

About ten minutes in, the ground started to tremble—just slightly, but enough to notice.

Everyone paused, frowning.

Then, off to the side, Pumpkin’s body suddenly tensed, back arched, fur bristling.

The squad instantly went on high alert.

They’d been with Pumpkin long enough to know—when the cat reacted like that, something serious was coming.

Ethan immediately activated [True Sight] and looked in the direction Pumpkin was staring.

What he saw made his eyelid twitch.

”Okay,” he muttered. ”I take back what I said earlier. This place? Yeah, not for amateurs. You come up here unprepared, you’re basically delivering takeout to the locals.”

”What is it?” Chris asked, eyes narrowing.

”Mutant boars. Three of them. Each one bigger than a bull.”

”Boars?” Big Mike perked up, licking his lips. ”Boar meat’s delicious.”

”Assuming you can chew it,” Chris said dryly. Then he turned to Ethan. ”They strong?”

”Tier 7. All three.”

”...!”

Everyone stiffened. Big Mike’s face darkened. ”Okay, maybe a little too chewy.”

”Just simmer it longer,” Chris joked.

Before they could say more, the tall grass ahead exploded outward.

Three massive mutant boars burst through, charging straight at them like freight trains.

”Scatter!” Ethan shouted, diving to the side.

Even at Tier 8, he wasn’t about to tank a direct hit from one of those things. Mutant boars were built like battering rams—raw power incarnate. Getting hit head-on could flatten even him.

That was the innate advantage of mutant beasts.

Pumpkin had speed. Goldie had brute strength. Birds could fly. These were things humans simply couldn’t match.

Mutant beasts might not have flashy abilities, but their natural traits made them terrifying. In the same Tier, a human going one-on-one usually didn’t stand a chance.

Luckily, the Fallen Star Squad wasn’t made up of rookies.

The moment they saw the boars charging, everyone moved. Fast.

They didn’t need Ethan to tell them twice.

Every member of the squad had clawed their way up through countless battles. There were no weak links here.

BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.

Three thunderous crashes echoed through the forest as the boars slammed into the trees behind them.

Each one hit a trunk nearly two feet thick—and snapped it clean in half.

The squad winced.

If that had been a person instead of a tree, they’d be airborne—or worse.

But the boars didn’t even slow down. They shook off the impact, snorted, and turned to charge again—faster this time.

The squad split up, dodging the next wave of charges while launching attacks from a distance.

Big Mike hurled fireballs. Garrick summoned [Earthen Spikes]. Henry fired off [Void Beam], and Skinny Pete sliced through the air with [Wind Cutter].

The boars were tough, but the hits were landing. Wounds opened across their thick hides, blood spraying as the squad kept up the pressure.

Still, the beasts didn’t stop.

Even bleeding and battered, they kept charging, wild and relentless.

Everyone knew better than to try and tank them head-on. They stuck to hit-and-run tactics, dodging the charges and hammering them with ranged attacks, slowly wearing them down.

”Big Mike, where’s that black energy hand you can summon?” Chris’s voice came calmly from somewhere nearby—he was still cloaked in stealth. ”Grab the boar with it, and I’ll finish it off in one shot.”

”Holy shit, easy for you to say when you’re not the one getting chased!” Big Mike shouted, ducking and weaving as the massive mutant boar barreled after him. ”You think I haven’t tried? That thing’s a damn tank! My energy hand would get ripped apart before it even formed!”

He cursed under his breath. ”What the hell did I do to this boar? It’s got a personal vendetta or something! Can one of you please get this thing off me?!”

”I’m trying to help, aren’t I?” Chris replied, still maddeningly calm. ”But you’re running around like a headless chicken. I can’t get a clean shot. How about you tank it for a second? Just hold it still, and I’ll skewer it clean through.”

”...”

Big Mike’s face twisted. ”Chris, did I piss you off or something? Whatever it was, I’m sorry, okay? Don’t get me killed over it!”

”Tch. Look at you,” Chris said, half-laughing. ”Fine, run it toward me. I’ll take the hit. I’ve been wanting to see how strong these things really are.”

That came from Garrick, not far off, already bracing himself.

”Now that’s what I’m talking about,” Chris said with a smirk.

”...”

Big Mike didn’t hesitate. He made a beeline for Garrick, the boar thundering behind him.

As he closed in, Garrick activated [Earthen Armor], a thick layer of stone plating snapping into place over his body. He raised his rebar staff and swung it hard at Big Mike—not to hit him, but to knock him out of the way.

Big Mike dove and rolled just in time, clearing the path and exposing the charging boar.

WHAM!

Garrick’s rebar slammed into the boar’s skull, tearing open flesh and drawing blood—but the beast didn’t slow down. It plowed straight into him.

BOOM!

The impact shattered Garrick’s [Earthen Armor] instantly. Blood sprayed from his mouth as he was launched backward, crashing into a tree with a sickening thud before getting caught in the branches like a ragdoll.

”...”

Big Mike blinked, then swallowed hard and rushed over to pull Garrick down from the tree.

THUD!

Garrick hit the ground and coughed up more blood, glaring at Big Mike with a mix of pain and betrayal.

”Just a heads-up,” he groaned, ”don’t let it hit you. I tested it for you guys. That thing hits like a truck.”

The rest of the squad stared at him, speechless.

Seriously? Even Ethan didn’t try to tank it head-on. What were you thinking?

But Chris didn’t waste the opening.

The moment the boar staggered to a stop after slamming Garrick, Chris struck.

He appeared out of stealth, rebar staff in hand, its tip coated in a sharp black energy. With a clean, precise thrust, he drove it straight through the boar’s neck and pinned it to the ground.

The beast thrashed violently, squealing in pain, but Chris held firm, both hands gripping the staff, refusing to let go.

It took a few long, brutal minutes, but eventually the boar’s struggles weakened, then stopped altogether.

Chris exhaled, sweat beading on his forehead. ”Damn… that was not easy.”

THUD!

Another heavy crash echoed nearby.

The second boar—the one that had been chasing Ethan—collapsed to the ground, its skull caved in. Ethan stood over it, breathing hard, rebar staff slick with blood.

He’d taken it down with brute force alone.

On the other side, Henry, Sean, Mia, and Skinny Pete had just finished off the third boar. It lay twitching in the grass, riddled with wounds from their combined attacks.

Three Tier 7 mutant boars, down.