Apocalypse: King of Zombies-Chapter 1194: The King Was Never Born
Something clicked in Ethan’s head.
He didn’t hesitate. Riding Peregrine Falcon Flint, he shot straight toward the battlefield.
By now, the fighting had hit full boil.
The zombies had already broken through the blockade and surged onto the bank, colliding with the Enhanced in a vicious, grinding melee.
There were just too many of them—and Tier 6 and Tier 7 zombies outnumbered the humans by a ridiculous margin. For a while, the defenders were getting pushed back step by step.
But humans still had one edge:
They had more top-tier power.
Forget the Fallen Star Squad and the mutant beasts they’d brought—Clearford City alone had more than thirty Tier 9 Enhanced. That was something the zombies couldn’t match.
The horde was huge, but there were only a little over ten Tier 9 zombies mixed in. No Tier 10 had shown itself yet... aside from the likely exception: the Zombie King.
Those top-tier fighters were the only reason the line hadn’t completely collapsed. They slowed the rout to something the rest could barely keep up with.
And the eight white-furred apes were just monsters.
They drove deep into the horde, fists smashing down. Wherever they hit, zombies exploded into blood mist. Teeth and claws couldn’t even scratch them. If the Zombie King hadn’t been using mental control to keep the horde from breaking, the zombies probably would’ve turned and run.
Chris and the others fought like unstoppable forces, carving open lanes through the sea of bodies.
Their presence kept morale from snapping.
Even against overwhelming numbers, the Enhanced refused to fold.
Still... there just weren’t enough top-tier fighters to change the bigger picture.
The gap in Tier 6 and Tier 7 numbers was a canyon you couldn’t jump. The humans were still getting butchered.
Enhanced were tackled, dragged down, torn apart—one after another—until the battlefield looked like it’d been painted red.
Ethan watched it for a second and felt a strange heaviness settle in his chest.
This was what real war looked like.
Honestly, from the day the apocalypse started to now, they’d been lucky to make it this far.
And the biggest reason was simple: their strength had always stayed ahead of the zombies. If it hadn’t, they would’ve died a long time ago.
Ethan didn’t rush in to help.
One person couldn’t flip a war of this scale.
Instead, he focused on what mattered—he swept the horde with [True Sight], forcing himself to check every zombie carefully, not just the crystal cores in their heads.
Ten minutes later, one zombie finally snagged his attention.
It was a completely ordinary Tier 5 female zombie. Nothing special about her... except she was extremely fat.
But while the other Tier 5 zombies were throwing themselves into the meat grinder, this one was wandering aimlessly in the rear.
And the zombies around her—like they were doing it on purpose—kept her surrounded, half-hidden in the middle.
That movement made Ethan’s suspicion spike.
He narrowed [True Sight] and scanned her again.
When his vision passed over her belly, Ethan finally smiled.
"Found you."
Yeah.
The Zombie King was a baby—still inside her stomach.
When Ethan looked for zombies, he’d always checked the crystal core in the head. He never bothered scanning their bodies.
Who the hell would?
A Zombie King that hadn’t even been born yet—no wonder he’d missed it, again and again.
Ethan still didn’t understand how a fetus had evolved into a Zombie King.
But he could guess it had something to do with the mother. Maybe she’d been unusually gifted, and after turning, she’d diverted most of the energy she absorbed into the baby. That would explain why she was still only Tier 5.
It made a sick kind of sense—maternal instinct.
Even as a zombie, that instinct could still exist.
So the baby evolved inside the womb, became a Zombie King, awakened a talent ability, and ended up with intelligence that wasn’t any lower than an adult’s.
And the fact it was still hiding in there?
Yeah. That just screamed "scheming little bastard."
"You’ve got to be kidding me," Ethan growled. "I got played by a baby that isn’t even born yet."
He flashed forward with Teleportation, appearing right beside the female zombie. His poleaxe came down in a brutal arc.
Ethan’s sudden appearance startled the nearby zombies. They surged toward him, trying to protect her—
—but with Ethan’s strength, it was a joke. None of them could stop it.
The female zombie roared and tried to dodge. As a Tier 5, she didn’t even have the speed to pretend.
The poleaxe split her cleanly in half.
And right then, a tiny figure shot out of her torn belly and hit the ground running.
It was small, naked, slick with gore and mucus—big head, tiny limbs, proportions all wrong.
But its speed was terrifying.
As it sprinted forward, the zombies ahead of it immediately parted, opening a passage.
At the same time, the surrounding zombies went berserk, lunging at Ethan like maniacs.
And from all over the battlefield, the Tier 9 zombies reacted like they’d received the same command—
—turning and rushing toward Ethan at full speed.
"Yeah. Sneaky as hell." Ethan let out a cold laugh. "But you think these zombies can hold me? Not happening."
He Teleported again, popping right beside the Zombie King. In one smooth motion, he reached down, grabbed the thing by the ankle, and yanked it up into the air.
The Zombie King was vicious for something that small. It snapped its mouth open and lunged for Ethan’s hand, trying to bite clean through him.
Smack.
Ethan backhanded it across the head and knocked it away from his fingers.
"Raaah...!"
The Zombie King roared—tiny body, insanely loud voice.
At that roar, the zombies around them went even crazier, throwing themselves at Ethan like they didn’t care if they died.
Ethan swept his poleaxe in a flat arc, mowing down the ones that reached him. Then, still holding the infant Zombie King, he sprang upward.
Peregrine Falcon Flint dove in at the perfect moment. Ethan landed on its back, and Flint shot straight up into the sky.
"ROOOAR! ROAR! ROAR!"
Below, the horde raged, howling up at the air—furious and helpless.
On Flint’s back, the Zombie King thrashed violently, its oversized mouth constantly snapping, trying to tear into Ethan.
Every time it got close—
Smack.
Ethan slapped it back like he was swatting a rabid animal.
Then the Zombie King’s blood-red eyes locked onto him.
For an instant, Ethan’s head went fuzzy. His vision wobbled—like dizziness crawling up from the base of his skull.
Smack.
Ethan slapped it again, harder.
"Don’t even try that shit," he snapped. "Doesn’t work on me."
He said it like it was nothing, but inside, his nerves were tight.
He’d known the thing had a mental-type ability. He’d been on guard the whole time. And he’d still almost gotten caught.
Mental abilities really were the worst—quiet, invisible, and disgusting.
If his strength and resistance were any lower, he’d have blacked out and fallen. No question.
"Alright," Ethan growled. "If you won’t behave, I’ll give you something you will understand."
He reached into his spatial storage ring and pulled out a war hammer.
Then he swung it down into the Zombie King’s head.
CRACK—!
Half its skull caved in, wet and shattered.
"Now." Ethan leaned in, voice sharp. "Tell your zombies to retreat."
The battle had already started. Even if Ethan killed the Zombie King, it wouldn’t instantly end the fighting.
Zombies only ran when they knew they were losing. If the Zombie King died while they still had the advantage, they wouldn’t retreat—they’d go berserk.
That would make the situation even worse for Clearford.
So Ethan needed the order first.
Pain-based torture was useless. Zombies didn’t feel it.
This came down to one thing: did the little bastard fear death?
The answer, apparently, was no.
Even with half its head smashed open, the infant Zombie King glared at Ethan with pure hatred, stubborn as a nail.
Ethan’s expression went flat.
"If you won’t cooperate, then I’ll just kill you."
He raised the war hammer again and brought it toward the remaining half of its head—no hesitation, no mercy in his eyes.
