Apocalypse: King of Zombies

Pied King gritted his teeth, straining with every ounce of mental strength to resist the crushing force of Ethan's Domain of the Dead. His body trembled, like a lone leaf boat caught in a violent storm, barely holding together, seconds from capsizing.

But Ethan didn't give him a moment to recover. With a flick of his wrist, he summoned the Star Map tablet. Strange energy pulsed from it, and the Radiant Crystal embedded in its center flared to life—brilliant and blinding, like a star tearing through the night sky.

In a flash, Ethan was on him—his movement so fast it looked like teleportation. He swung his arm in a wide arc, the Star Map trailing a blazing tail of light as it carved through the air, forming a glowing circle that came crashing down toward Pied King.

Ethan's power now was on a whole different level—far beyond what it had been before. The energy radiating from the tablet was devastating, tearing through space itself. Wherever it passed, the air collapsed inward, like reality was being shredded apart.

Pied King's eyes went wide with horror. It felt like a mountain was barreling straight at him.

Panicking, he instinctively raised his Pan Flute to block the blow.

BOOM!

The impact exploded like a volcanic eruption. A deafening roar tore through the air, and the ground beneath them cracked and caved in. The shockwave blasted outward, sending snow flying in every direction, turning the battlefield into a swirling whiteout.

A few zombies in the distance were caught in the blast, flung through the air like ragdolls, tumbling alongside the snowflakes.

But Pied King took the worst of it. His Pan Flute shattered into splinters, and both his arms snapped like twigs. His mangled body was launched like a baseball hit out of the park, flying over a thousand feet before crashing down hard, limp and broken.

His slouchy beanie flew off mid-air, landing somewhere in the snow. Blood oozed from his battered body, his face twisted in agony, fangs clenched tight in a grotesque grimace.

Ethan hadn't killed him outright—but he'd taken him out of the fight.

What the hell kind of power is that?! Pied King thought, stunned. I can't compete with this… not even close.

Driven by sheer survival instinct, he began crawling away from Ethan, dragging himself through the snow.

But with both arms shattered, all he could do was squirm forward using his ruined shoulders, inching along like a wounded insect.

He didn't get far.

A pair of boots suddenly appeared in front of him. He looked up—and froze.

It wasn't Ethan.

It was someone else, with glowing crimson eyes staring down at him.

"Well, that was quick. You already down for the count?" Logan said, voice dripping with mockery.

Pied King's eyes flared with rage. He bared his fangs and spat, "Still better than falling in love with a human!"

"..." Logan's expression darkened, a vein twitching on his forehead. The teasing vanished from his face, replaced by cold, lethal intent.

"Then die."

As the words left his mouth, his eyes ignited with a sinister red glow. His ocular technique activated, and the light intensified, locking directly onto Pied King's gaze.

In an instant, Pied King's vision turned blood-red. The snowy mountains, the sunlight—everything was drowned in a sea of crimson, as if the world itself had been soaked in blood.

"AAAHHH—!"

He screamed, a raw, guttural cry of terror. His face twisted in horror, his broken body trembling uncontrollably.

He had fallen into an endless illusion—Logan's power dragging him into a nightmare crafted from his deepest fears.

In this blood-soaked hallucination, Pied King saw scenes of brutal slaughter. Hulking, vein-pulsing monsters with jagged fangs rampaged through cities, their numbers endless, stretching as far as the eye could see.

At the center of it all stood a towering figure—the Zombie King—draped in a black cloak, radiating a suffocating, oppressive aura.

"What the hell is this?" Logan muttered, watching the vision unfold through his connection to the illusion.

He realized something chilling—Pied King wasn't the strongest Zombie King in Canada. Not even close. Most of his territory had already been overrun by these grotesque creatures.

Logan pushed deeper, his psychic energy probing for any hidden plots.

What he found made his blood run cold.

Before the battle, Pied King had given secret orders to his subordinate, Shadowscale: take advantage of the chaos and launch a surprise attack on a nearby human settlement—wipe it out completely.

"Awan!" Logan's crimson eyes narrowed sharply, panic flashing across his face. His fists clenched so tight his knuckles turned white, his whole body trembling.

He'd called every one of his subordinates to the front lines—leaving the town practically defenseless. And with Shadowscale's stealth abilities, slipping into the town would be effortless.

For a split second, Logan froze in shock—and in that moment, the terrifying illusion he'd cast shattered. The searing red glow in his eyes flickered and died.

Pied King seized the opportunity, breaking free from the nightmare.

Seeing the panic etched on Logan's face, he burst into laughter.

"Hahahahaha! How pathetic! A Zombie King, worried about humans? That twisted little thing you call love—Shadowscale's about to snuff it out with his own hands!"

"No! I won't let that happen!" Logan growled, baring his fangs, jaw clenched tight.

BOOM!

Suddenly, a blinding beam of light crashed down from above. Pied King's laughter cut off in an instant—Ethan had brought the Star Map tablet down like a divine hammer, smashing his skull to pieces.

A crystal-clear core burst from the wreckage, spinning through the air before Ethan caught it neatly in his palm.

He weighed it in his hand, nodding with satisfaction. Another psychic-type crystal core—this one would definitely give his mental strength a serious boost.

Two of America's Zombie Kings had just teamed up to take down Canada's top dog.

Logan looked up, catching sight of Ethan standing there, his white dress shirt still spotless, like he hadn't even broken a sweat. He was examining the S-rank crystal core with a pleased grin on his face.

That sleek, snow-white fur coat draped over his shoulders? Hand-stitched by Awan herself.

Logan's voice cut through the moment. "Did any of your guys stay behind to protect the town?"

Ethan turned, looking genuinely confused. "Why would I do that?"

"..." Logan was speechless. Of course he wouldn't. He's not the type to care about that kind of thing. His anxiety spiked.

"No time! I'm leaving this to you—I've gotta get back, now!"

Without another word, he spun around and bolted, sprinting toward the town. His figure quickly vanished into the chaos of the battlefield.

Ethan glanced around. Honestly, there wasn't much left for him to do.

With Pied King dead, the battle was basically over. The slaughter was winding down—just a few stragglers left. He figured he'd clean up the mess once it was done...

...

Back in the quiet little town, a gentle breeze stirred the snow on the rooftops, sending soft flakes drifting down. Everything looked peaceful, almost idyllic.

Then a sudden roar shattered the calm.

A sleek aircraft tore through the sky, descending fast toward the town.

"Is this the place Ethan marked?" Mia asked, eyes scanning the ground below.

"Yup, this is it," Oliver, the pilot, nodded quickly.

The blue tail flames of the engine flickered out as the aircraft touched down smoothly.

The hatch hissed open, cold air rushing in.

Chris shivered as it hit him.

He leaned out, peering around with wide eyes. "Wow... I didn't think there were still towns like this up in the northern U.S. And with actual people living here?"

"Yeah, it's like this place never got hit by the outbreak. It's like a little pocket of paradise," Brandon said, whistling in awe.

The group stepped out of the aircraft. The noise had drawn attention—townsfolk were already gathering, watching the newcomers with wary curiosity.

Mia, twin katanas strapped to her back, scanned the area with sharp eyes.

"Where's Ethan?"

...