Apocalypse: King of Zombies-Chapter 599: This is a trap!

On the steep, snow-covered mountainside, a swarm of zombies clawed their way upward.

Their eyes gleamed with hunger, like starving wolves catching the scent of prey.

"We’re finally gonna feast! Don’t any of you dare try to snatch my share!" one of the zombies snarled, scrambling over the icy rocks, desperate to be the first to the top.

Leading the charge was the Splitjaw Zombie King. Suddenly, a thought struck her, and she barked out, "By the way, how strong are those humans up there?"

"Don’t worry, boss. They’re weak—real weak. The moment they see us, they run. Barely any fight in ’em," her lieutenant replied confidently.

"Good." Splitjaw Zombie King relaxed at that, her anticipation for the slaughter growing. She picked up speed, claws digging into the frozen slope.

The summit was getting closer by the second.

With a powerful kick, she launched herself like a missile, soaring through the air and landing hard on the cliff’s edge.

"Finally made it up..."

Behind her, a pack of elite zombie underlings clambered over the edge, their eyes glowing with bloodlust, like ravenous beasts ready to tear into flesh.

They scanned the mountaintop—and sure enough, there were plenty of human tents scattered around, their snow-covered tops looking like giant white mushrooms.

But something was off.

There were no humans.

Instead, the area was filled with zombies—standing still, eyes locked forward, as if they’d been waiting.

At the front stood several powerful Zombie Kings.

There was Laura, with her mechanical arm; the shadowy figure cloaked in darkness known as Little Shadow; and others like Sprout, Shroom, and Petal.

And then there was Elegy, the Zombie King with a guitar cradled in her arms, her expression distant, as if she were building up to the first note of a deadly performance.

"...Huh?"

Splitjaw Zombie King and her crew froze, their bloodthirsty expressions vanishing in an instant.

"What the hell... is this?"

They could feel it—every one of those Zombie Kings ahead radiated overwhelming power. Each one was like a mountain they could never hope to climb. There was no way they could win.

Splitjaw’s gut twisted. Something was wrong. This was a setup.

"These are the weak-ass humans you were talking about?!"

"N-no, boss! I mean, that’s what the ones who ran said! Look, this really is a human camp, right? The tents are all here!" her lieutenant stammered, glancing around nervously.

"..." Splitjaw Zombie King didn’t even bother replying. What good was an explanation now?

Laura tilted her head, eyeing the newcomers with a slow, creeping grin. It was the kind of smile that came right before the blood started flying. "Didn’t think we’d get zombie intruders all the way out here."

"Yeah, that’s just ridiculous," Little Shadow muttered, nodding.

Even they couldn’t figure out how this bunch had made it up here.

Were they that desperate to die?

"Then let’s just start the slaughter!" Sprout snapped, his voice sharp and cold. He was the first to move—green light flared around him as vines exploded from the ground, surging forward like a tidal wave.

At the same time, Elegy strummed her guitar, the chords wild and chaotic.

The symphony of carnage began to rise, echoing across the snowy peak.

"ROOOAAARRR—!"

Behind them, the elite zombie squad let out a collective roar and charged forward like a tidal wave of death.

"Oh shit..."

Splitjaw Zombie King and her crew felt the crushing pressure bearing down on them. The battle hadn’t even started, and they already knew how it would end.

"This is a trap! Fall back!"

She was fast—one of the agile types. She kicked off the ground, body twisting midair as she tried to leap back off the cliff.

But just as she was airborne, a sharp whoosh sliced through the wind.

A gleaming claw blade came out of nowhere, aiming straight for her skull—a clean, lethal strike.

Splitjaw’s eyes widened in panic. She jerked her head to the side just in time, but the blade still raked across her face, carving three deep gashes into her cheek.

A few strands of hair from her forehead were sliced clean off, fluttering away in the icy wind.

She hit the ground hard, blood oozing from the wounds—but she didn’t flinch.

Her glowing, feral eyes locked onto the slender figure who’d attacked her.

"So fast!"

Laura’s eyes gleamed with killing intent. She paused for only a split second before vanishing again, reappearing in a blur as she lunged at Splitjaw once more.

Splitjaw Zombie King didn’t dare go head-to-head. She was forced to dodge again and again, barely keeping up—there wasn’t even a chance to counterattack. She was in serious danger.

But the others? They were in even worse shape.

After Sprout unleashed his Vine Domain, thick vines tore through dozens of zombies like skewers. Soon after, pink flowers bloomed from the corpses, releasing a hallucinogenic pollen that clouded the air.

And that wasn’t all—Lil’ Shroom’s spores were spreading like wildfire, parasitizing anything they touched. Zombies convulsed and collapsed, their bodies swelling with grotesque red tumors.

The three plant-based fusion-type Zombie Kings were absolute nightmares in group combat. Their area-of-effect carnage was devastating.

Amid the chaos, Little Shadow moved like a ghost, slipping behind enemy lines. One by one, she silently "beheaded" the enemy commanders, leaving a trail of corpses in her wake.

The mountaintop had become a war zone. The fresh layer of snow was quickly stained with filth and gore. Blood sprayed, limbs flew, and the air was thick with the stench of death.

The Canadian zombies were being pushed back hard. Many were knocked off the cliff, their screams echoing as they plummeted into the abyss—fading fast into silence.

There were still plenty of them clinging to the mountainside, but now, the falling bodies were crashing into those below, triggering a chain reaction. Zombies began tumbling down in waves, like a grotesque avalanche.

They fell from the snowy cliffs like hailstones, thudding and cracking as they hit the rocks below.

Splitjaw Zombie King’s face was grim. Her underlings were being slaughtered like cattle, unable to fight back. They weren’t even in the same league as the enemy.

These zombies... they were terrifying. She could only assume she’d stumbled into the heart of the American zombie main force.

The cliff’s edge was just over a hundred feet away—but Laura stood in front of it like an unscalable wall.

"Screw it!"

Splitjaw Zombie King gritted her teeth and launched herself forward, legs pumping with everything she had. She moved so fast she left afterimages in her wake.

Laura didn’t flinch. She charged in too, ready to meet her head-on.

They collided mid-air.

Splitjaw focused, eyes locked on the razor-sharp claw blade slicing straight for her throat.

She made a split-second decision—gritted her teeth and raised her arm to block.

Shhhk—!

The blade cut through her arm like it was slicing a watermelon. Her limb was severed cleanly, but the impact threw Laura’s strike slightly off course, the blade grazing over Splitjaw’s shoulder instead of her neck.

Splitjaw hit the ground hard, blood gushing from her stump, painting a gruesome trail across the snow. She glanced back at Laura, heart still pounding with fear.

But—she’d made it.

She’d broken through.

At the cost of an arm, she’d escaped Laura’s blockade.

"Later, bitch!"

With a final burst of strength, Splitjaw Zombie King hurled herself off the cliff.

She crashed down the mountainside, stomping on her own underlings as she went, bouncing and tumbling, smashing through chunks of ice. Her head slammed into a frozen boulder, and the world spun wildly around her.

But none of that mattered.

All that mattered was getting the hell out of there.

BAM!

She didn’t know how long she’d been falling, but eventually, she slammed into the ground with bone-jarring force. Even with a Zombie King’s resilience, she was a wreck.

"Did I... make it?"

Splitjaw groaned, propping herself up with her one remaining arm, trying to rise from the snow.

But as she lifted her head, her eyes widened.

A figure stood before her.

Black slacks. A pristine white fur coat. Tall, composed, and looking down at her with calm, unreadable eyes.

"Where did you come from?" Ethan asked, his voice low and steady.

...

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