Apocalypse: King of Zombies

In the heart of the basin, the battle had reached a fever pitch. Corpses piled up like small hills, and foul, dark blood pooled in thick, sticky puddles across the battlefield.

Still, the two opposing Zombie Hordes tore into each other with relentless fury. Some undead clawed their way out from beneath the mounds of bodies, snarling like demons from hell, dragging their enemies down into the carnage with them.

Redgaze Zombie King Logan had pushed his Eye Arts to the absolute limit. His eyes blazed with a sinister red light that spread like wildfire, engulfing the entire area. Any zombie caught in its glow let out tortured wails, as if trapped in an endless nightmare they could never wake from.

But the Zombie King wearing the slouchy beanie wasn't backing down either. With a smirk, he pulled a short flute from his belt and brought it to his lips.

A strange, eerie melody rippled through the air like waves on water.

Every zombie that heard the sound froze in place. Then, as if hypnotized, they turned—eyes vacant—and fell under the complete control of the beanie-wearing Zombie King.

One by one, they lost all sense of self and began attacking their own allies.

This was the Pied King, named for his awakened ability: Pied Piper's Dirge. Before the apocalypse, he'd been a street performer. Even after turning undead, he'd never let go of his old habits.

His power was similar to that of Ethan's subordinate, the Elegy Zombie King—both used sound to transmit psychic force. But Pied King's ability was more like that of Nightbane's underling, the so-called "Deathspeaker" Falseword Zombie King, with one key difference: Pied King could hypnotize entire groups at once.

And his crowd-control lethality? Off the charts. He could single-handedly flip the tide of battle.

The other foreign Zombie Kings weren't holding back either. One after another, they unleashed their trump cards—enhancing their strength, speed, and unleashing devastating abilities. Several fusion-type Zombie Kings led monstrous zombie beasts into the fray, charging headlong into the chaos.

They were part of an alliance, and with their sheer numbers and overall power, they clearly had the upper hand over Logan's crew—Rebar and the others.

"Tch! Redgaze is the only real threat on their side. But he's not gonna last much longer!"

"Once we take him out, we'll wipe out the humans next. I wanna see for myself what kind of people he's so obsessed with."

"Hehehehe... Let's go, boys! Tear 'em apart!"

"..."

Under the command of these elite Zombie Kings, the horde surged forward, bloodlust in their eyes. The promise of fresh human flesh drove them into a frenzy, pushing their combat abilities beyond their limits.

But Pied King just grinned slyly, secretly thrilled. Before the battle had even started, he'd already sent his subordinate, the Shadowscale Zombie King, to launch a sneak attack on the human settlement.

"They think they're gonna get a taste of human meat?"

"Not a chance in hell..."

"By the time this fight's over, Shadowscale will have already wiped that town off the map."

"..."

As he plotted, Pied King blew harder into his flute, pouring every ounce of psychic energy into the haunting melody. The mental pressure radiating from him was nearing its peak.

The foreign Zombie Kings charged forward, their roars blending with the eerie, pulsing notes of the flute. The battlefield trembled under the weight of their assault.

Even Logan's Eye Arts were starting to falter under the strain.

He'd been pushing himself too hard for too long. His eyes throbbed with pain—like he'd pulled an all-nighter gaming without blinking.

"Where the hell are those loudmouth bastards?" he muttered, gritting his teeth. "They should've been here by now…"

...

The two Zombie Hordes were locked in a brutal deadlock, the entire basin transformed into a grotesque meat grinder. Severed limbs and mangled flesh littered the ground, the carnage reaching a level of horror that defied imagination.

But just then, a lone figure crested a distant ridge—a Zombie King, unmistakably one of Ethan's. It was Elegy.

The cold wind howled past her ears as she stood atop the snowy peak, gazing down at the battlefield below. Her long-dormant heart stirred, ignited by the blood-soaked chaos.

She reached behind her and unstrapped the guitar slung across her back. With a flick of her fingers, she struck the strings.

The battle anthem had begun.

Elegy's fingers danced across the frets, unleashing a wild, electrifying riff that exploded across the mountaintop. The sound rode the wind, sweeping down into the basin like a sonic tidal wave.

The symphony of death had begun to play.

Pied King's eerie flute melody faltered, its hypnotic power disrupted by the crashing chords. His eyes widened in alarm.

"What the hell is that?" he growled, glaring up at the ridge.

There, bathed in the blinding light of the rising sun, stood Elegy. The sunlight cast her in silhouette, her figure tall and commanding.

The pristine snow-covered peak became her stage, and she played like a rock goddess unleashed, her music wild and untamed.

"Is that... a Zombie King?"

"Where'd she come from? A new evolution?"

"No idea…"

"Don't panic. That kind of power alone won't change the tide of battle."

"..."

But before they could finish that thought, a deafening roar erupted behind the music—an unholy chorus of zombie howls that shook the heavens.

The sound was so intense it triggered avalanches on the surrounding peaks, snow crashing down in thunderous waves.

Then, from every ridge around the basin, zombie figures began to appear—eyes glowing with bloodlust, their killing intent rising like a storm.

Hundreds of thousands of zombies surged forward, encircling the entire basin. The sight was overwhelming, a visual gut-punch of sheer numbers and raw menace.

Pied King and the other foreign Zombie Kings stared in disbelief, their expressions shifting from confusion to outright horror.

Their eyes darted across the ridgelines, and a crushing sense of dread settled in.

"Where the hell did this horde come from?!"

"Shit—Redgaze has reinforcements! We've walked right into a trap!"

"Wait... was he faking defeat this whole time?!"

"..."

The truth hit them like a hammer. Their confidence shattered, the adrenaline high of battle plummeting into cold panic.

Logan tilted his head back, red eyes scanning the mountaintops. A slow, satisfied smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

"They're finally here…"

Atop one of the ridges, Bulldozer cracked his shoulders, eyes gleaming with bloodthirst. Then, with a roar, he charged downhill like a freight train.

"Let's go, boys!"

"RAAAHHH—!"

Behind him, the horde screamed in unison. Among them was Mist's right-hand man—the Fear Zombie King.

His awakened ability was psychic-based, and his roar carried the devastating Soulquake effect. The sound hit like a sonic boom, shaking the air itself.

The Canadian zombies who heard it were instantly gripped by a primal terror.

Mist himself was cloaked in swirling black fog, releasing thick clouds of mist that rolled down the slopes like smoke from a signal fire. The moment he appeared, the surrounding zombies surged forward, pouring into the basin like a living flood.

Hundreds of thousands of zombies, wave after wave, cascaded down the mountainsides.

Among them, elite units moved with terrifying agility, crawling down sheer cliffs like spiders. Some didn't even bother—they just leapt straight off the edge.

It was like the sky was raining zombies.

They hit the ground with bone-crunching force, immediately joining the fray. Some landed directly on Crossborder zombies, tearing out throats before their feet even touched the dirt.

"Gatorax! With me!"

Big Ears called out to his crew, then plopped down on his ass and slid down the slope like a kid on a giant snow slide.

He twisted and turned through the snow, crashing into drifts, but somehow made it to the bottom in one piece.

Once there, he scanned the battlefield, eyes gleaming—still hunting for his next glorious badge of honor.

Ethan's forces poured into the basin like an unstoppable avalanche. His lieutenants led the charge, tearing through the Crossborder zombies with overwhelming force.

It was a massacre—swift, brutal, and merciless.

Pied King, still perched on his vantage point, couldn't even see how many were coming. The mountains blocked his view, but the endless stream of zombies pouring down was enough to numb his senses.

Everywhere he looked—enemies.

"This... this is insane! There's too many of them!"

...