Apocalypse: King of Zombies

Chapter 787 - 787: Who knew what monsters lurked?

Razorclaw's heart seized with terror as he whipped his head around—only to see two twisted, grinning faces staring straight at him.Wraithshade.

His face was a mask of malice, eyes gleaming with murderous intent.

"You… it's you?!" Razorclaw's pupils shrank, his expression frozen in disbelief, like he'd just seen a ghost.

"That's right," Wraithshade sneered, his grin stretching wider, more grotesque. "I'm back."

Before Razorclaw could react, a wave of psychic energy surged from Wraithshade, slamming into his mind like a black spear.

Agony exploded in Razorclaw's skull, like boiling oil had been poured directly into his brain. But what truly terrified him was what came next—his body stopped responding.

His limbs locked up. His muscles twitched uncontrollably.

And then, to his horror, his own mouth curled into a twisted grin—Wraithshade's grin. It was like watching a puppet smile with someone else's face.

Razorclaw screamed inside his own head, trying to fight it, but all he could manage was a grotesque grimace, his facial muscles spasming, veins bulging across his forehead. He looked like he was laughing through a nightmare.

Then, slowly, his claws rose.

Five razor-sharp talons pointed inward—straight at his own chest.

"No… no, don't—!"

Panic surged through him. His body trembled violently, but he couldn't stop it. He knew exactly what was coming.

Under Wraithshade's control, his claws plunged into his chest with a sickening shlkk.

Dark blood gushed out, soaking his fur and pooling beneath him.

Crack!

Razorclaw's claws gripped his own ribs—and with a savage jerk, he ripped one free from his chest cavity.

"AAAGHHHHHHH!"

His scream tore through the battlefield as he collapsed, writhing in a pool of his own blood.

But it didn't stop.

His claws kept moving, tearing into his own flesh, shredding muscle and bone like he was trying to unmake himself.

"Keheheheh…" Wraithshade's laugh was low and chilling, his eyes gleaming with sadistic pleasure. He was merciless with his enemies—especially Razorclaw, who had once been a top enforcer for Abyssion. Backed by the Heartland Zombie Kings, Razorclaw had led countless raids, slaughtering Wraithshade's own followers without remorse.

Now it was payback.

Razorclaw's screams grew hoarse, his body convulsing in agony.

"Enough playing around. Time to go," a calm voice called out from the distance.

Wraithshade paused, glancing toward the source of the voice. "Oh. Right."

With a casual nod, he released his grip on Razorclaw's mind.

The moment the psychic hold lifted, Razorclaw's body went limp. He gasped, finally able to move again—but it was too late. His wounds were catastrophic. He couldn't even lift himself off the ground.

The fear still clung to him like a shadow.

Wraithshade… he's back…

But something else gnawed at him—who was that voice? Who had the authority to command Wraithshade?

He turned his head weakly, eyes searching.

And then he saw him.

A figure in white stood not far away, calm and composed. Behind him were Laura and Bloodveil, their presence radiating overwhelming pressure. The air around them seemed to warp with power.

Each of them… unmistakably SSS-tier.

"The… The Voidborn Undying…?" Razorclaw's heart sank into his stomach.

But before he could process it further—

CRACK.

A boot came down hard, crushing his skull like a melon.

Darkness swallowed him whole.

And in the final flicker of his fading consciousness, one last thought echoed in his mind:

Frostmere… is no longer ours.

...

With Razorclaw dead and his top lieutenants butchered, the remaining zombies lost all will to fight. Panic spread like wildfire.

The once-mighty horde of a hundred thousand broke apart in seconds, scattering in every direction.

The tide had turned into a rout.

But most of them didn't make it far.

They were cut down by the Saber Corps' lightsabers, or ensnared and shredded by the relentless vines of the Vine Domain. Only a handful of battered survivors managed to flee the battlefield.

In the distance, a small group of zombies could be seen running for their lives, stumbling over each other in their desperation.

They had arrived like a storm.

Now they fled like rats.

"Run! Run for your lives—!"

The fleeing zombies wailed in panic, scrambling over each other in a desperate bid to escape.

But the next second, a blinding beam of energy came screaming down from the sky—

BOOM!oo deep."

"Alright," Ethan nodded. "Then go find him."

…