Apocalypse: King of Zombies

”ROAR—!”

The Lionfang Beasts didn’t give them a second to talk. With that one bellow, the Outland Beasts surrounding them surged in like a tide, charging Ethan’s group from every direction.

Garrick reacted instantly, throwing up a protective dome and sealing everyone inside.

Ethan slashed his hand through the air.

All eighteen thralls spilled out at once and launched themselves into the swarm, ripping straight into the surrounding Outland Beasts.

Aeralon and Aerisara moved almost in sync, both unleashing the same wide-area spell—Death Tempest.

The storm of death rolled across the battlefield like a black grinder. Everything that got caught inside was shredded on the spot, bodies torn apart before they could even scream.

At the same time, the Umbral thralls raised their hands and brought down a rain of Decay.

Black droplets splattered across hide and fur. Smoke hissed up in greasy curls as the Decay power bit deep—skin sloughing off, flesh rotting in seconds.

The beasts howled in agony, instinctively recoiling.

”ROAR!”

The Lionfang Beasts roared again.

Then they charged.

The dozen or so of them—led by the largest one—sprinted straight through the chaos, barreling toward Ethan’s group with killing intent so thick it felt physical.

They’d figured it out.

The thralls were too dangerous. If they didn’t personally break the core of Ethan’s force, the swarm was going to get butchered.

And at their command, the other Outland Beasts gritted through the Decay rain and threw themselves forward again, forcing the pressure back onto Ethan’s line.

The moment the Lionfang Beasts moved, Ethan didn’t hesitate.

”Soulless thralls—intercept!”

He and the others couldn’t let those Stage S Lionfang Beasts reach them. If they broke into the dome, the squad would get shredded.

The soulless thralls surged to meet them.

Dopey was the first to explode forward.

No tricks. No feints.

Just raw violence.

He shot straight at the strongest Lionfang Beast—the one that felt like a walking catastrophe—and threw a simple, brutal punch.

The Lionfang King’s eyes flashed with surprise. Its massive forepaw ignited with a golden glow and slammed forward to meet Dopey head-on.

BOOM—!

The impact shook the air.

The Lionfang King was blasted backward, its huge body launched like it weighed nothing.

But what made Ethan’s stomach drop—

Dopey also staggered back two steps.

Ethan had never seen that happen before.

It was only two steps… but it was enough. More than enough.

So that’s what a peak Tier 35 looks like.

A peak Tier 35 Outland Beast, with the natural advantage of an absurdly strong body… pushing Dopey back actually made sense.

And that golden light on its claw?

That wasn’t normal. That was the kind of bloodline ability that screamed high-tier, the kind of monster born to sit at the top of the food chain.

Ethan’s eyes flicked to Skinny Pete, and he felt a sharp, bitter regret.

If Skinny Pete were stronger—if he could control something like this—

They’d have an extra trump card that could change everything.

But the Lionfang Beasts were even more shocked than Ethan.

Their eyes went wide, disbelief spreading through the pack like a disease.

Their king… got sent flying… by a human?

How was that even possible?!

THUD.

The Lionfang King slammed into the ground.

But it rolled, sprang up immediately, and stood there without a scratch—golden eyes locked on Dopey like they wanted to carve him apart.

Dopey’s punch hadn’t injured it.

It had humiliated it.

And for a king, that was worse.

”ROOOAR—!”

The Lionfang King lunged again, this time wreathed completely in golden light—no hesitation, no testing. Full power from the start.

At the same time, the rest of the Lionfang Beasts crashed into the other thralls, and the battlefield split into two layers of carnage: the swarm war outside, and the elite brawl ripping open the center.

In terms of numbers, the Lionfang Beasts plus their king were only twelve—fewer than the soulless thralls.

But in terms of quality?

Every single Lionfang Beast was Stage S at minimum, and they were clearly stronger than most of the thralls.

Aside from Dopey—who was a freak—Ethan’s biggest pillar was Aeralon.

Right now, Aeralon was holding off three Lionfang Beasts alone, and it wasn’t losing ground.

Aerisara, too, was strong enough to handle one Stage S Lionfang Beast by herself.

That left the rest of the thralls doubling up—two-on-one fights, trading wounds for space, refusing to let the Lionfang Beasts break through.

Because the truth was simple:

Even though Tier 29 elites became close to Stage S after being turned into thralls, these Lionfang Beasts had terrifying bloodlines. They weren’t comparable to ordinary Stage S creatures. In a one-on-one fight, aside from Aerisara, the other Umbral thralls really wouldn’t be able to beat them.

Thank god Aeralon had dragged three away.

Otherwise, even with all their thralls, they really wouldn’t have been able to hold.

The fight between the soulless thralls and the Lionfang Beasts was vicious—claws, blades, and impact shocks tearing up the ground every time they collided.

But Ethan’s side wasn’t getting a break, either.

Outland Beasts came pouring in like they’d lost their minds, throwing themselves at the squad in suicidal waves. And mixed into the horde were plenty above Stage A.

With the strength they had now, a typical Stage A+ Outland Beast wasn’t something they feared.

What they feared was numbers.

Too many. From every angle. No gaps. No breath.

Ethan held one whole side by himself.

Nullspace Domain flared around him, and nothing—no beast, no projectile, no skill—could cross within three feet of his body. At peak Tier 26, as long as a Stage S Outland Beast wasn’t personally attacking him, almost nobody could crack his domain.

His poleaxe became a blur.

Every swing was meat and bone. Every step forward was another beast dropping, cut apart before it could even get close.

On another flank, Sean turned himself into a walking bunker.

His entire body transformed into steel. Thornmail hugged his frame, Emily layered Warding Armor on top of it, and Henry stacked a Divine Shield over everything—three layers of defense wrapped around one man.

Sean planted himself there alone, swinging his staff like a windmill, smashing and sweeping, keeping the charge from ever reaching the dome.

Chris was worse than a ghost.

He flickered in and out of the herd, appearing, striking, and vanishing again. Every time he showed himself, an Outland Beast went down.

And he didn’t waste time on the weak ones.

He only hunted Stage A and above.

The rest of the team stayed inside Garrick’s protective dome, pouring out wave after wave of wide-area skills into the swarm outside.

But these weren’t the weak packs they’d farmed before.

The Outland Beasts here were strong, and that changed everything.

Wide-area attacks covered more ground, but the power got spread thinner and thinner the bigger the radius was. Great for shredding weak enemies.

Not great when the enemies could tank it.

Stage A and below collapsed under the barrage, dying in piles.

Stage A and above?

They shoved through the storm of damage and slammed into the front line anyway.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Garrick’s protective dome rang like a giant drum as heavy hits battered it over and over.

The barrier held—its defense was absurdly tough—but it wasn’t free.

Garrick’s face had gone paper-white. Sweat rolled off his forehead in fat drops, his jaw clenched so hard it looked like it might crack.

Emily saw it and immediately hit him with Energy Link, feeding him mental energy and stamina as fast as she could pour it in.

At the same time, the others shifted targets.

If wide-area skills couldn’t kill the ones pounding the dome…

Then they’d switch to heavy single-target strikes.

Mia’s Judgment Beam snapped out like a spear of light.

Big Mike’s Dragonflame hit like a furnace door being kicked open.

Emily’s Cyclone Blade carved through the air, slicing clean lines through bodies that were supposed to be ”too tough.”

Henry had Void Beam too, but that was a skill he’d gotten back at Stage D. At their current level, it was starting to feel underpowered.

It could punch a hole through an Outland Beast, sure—but a lot of these things were huge. A hole wasn’t a kill. Not unless it hit something vital.

So Henry pivoted.

He went control instead.

Endless Vines.

Vines erupted from the ground in nonstop waves, tangling legs and wings, wrapping bodies, yanking them off balance. The thorns embedded into flesh and released a numbing paralysis that made struggling pointless.

In one move, he locked down a wide patch of the battlefield.

Skinny Pete kept his role simple—raw output.

He continued casting Lightning Storm.

It was technically an AoE skill, but its damage was on par with most people’s single-target nukes. That was the difference between a top-tier skill and a normal one.

The downside was just as real.

It drank his mental energy like gasoline.

Even so, with everyone covering each other—damage, control, defense—the line stabilized.

For the moment.

But nobody fooled themselves. This couldn’t last.

They were burning skills nonstop, and Emily couldn’t refill an entire squad’s mental energy alone. Not like this.

Once their mental energy ran dry…

They’d die. Simple as that.

Staring out at the endless sea of Outland Beasts, everyone’s expression turned grim.

So they fought with one hand and ”ate” with the other—swallowing crystal cores between attacks to keep their mental energy from bottoming out, killing and recovering in the same breath, because there was no other way to keep standing.