Apocalypse: King of Zombies Chapter 1193: They Were Out of Bullets

Artillery fire hammered the landscape without a moment of respite, transforming the entire region into a desolate wasteland of craters. Tens of thousands of zombies were obliterated beneath the relentless bombardment.

Just as the defenders began to dismiss the horde as nothing extraordinary...

The zombies suddenly descended into a wild, uncontrollable frenzy.

Ignoring the thunderous explosions as if they were inconsequential, they launched themselves at the riverline in a frantic, unyielding charge.

"Heavy machine guns! Lay down suppressive fire!" Colonel Mitchell remained unfazed. His orders were delivered with sharp, composed precision.

Crews immediately maneuvered the heavy machine guns into defensive positions.

An instant later, the air vibrated with a deafening, metallic roar.

The weaponry tore through the encroaching horde with ease.

Even Tier 6 zombies found themselves unable to withstand such concentrated, continuous firepower.

Zombies crumbled in great, rolling swells.

However, every time the front rank fell, the rear line immediately surged forward to occupy the void.

The machine guns dealt death with ruthless efficiency—yet the horde continued to bridge the distance.

Before long, the vanguard reached the riverbank. Without hesitation, they plunged into the water and began swimming to the far side.

"All Tier 6 Enhanced with ranged capabilities—step forward and initiate bombardment!" Colonel Mitchell continued to orchestrate the defense like a rhythmic metronome.

From the cohort of over ten thousand Tier 6 Enhanced soldiers, more than half pivoted forward. They unleashed their skills into the river as rapidly as their energy allowed.

In the water, the zombies were essentially stationary targets. They expired quite rapidly.

While most Tier 6 skills were limited to basic, single-target attacks, the volume of zombies currently in the river was not yet overwhelming. For the time being, the line held firm.

Just then, two massive birds descended from the sky on the opposite bank, landing beside Chris and his companions.

"Emily," Big Mike called out, dismounting and stumbling toward her, "restore my reserves. I am returning to the fray."

Emily offered no unnecessary words. With a simple wave of her hand, a translucent aura settled over Big Mike.

In mere seconds, he transitioned from depleted and unsteady to revitalized, as if a switch had been flipped.

Emily’s restorative support far surpassed the crude method of forcing crystal cores down one's throat.

Big Mike threw his head back and let out a boisterous laugh. "Hahaha—bring on the zombies! Big Mike has returned!"

He leaped onto the back of his Golden Eagle, Nugget, and roared into the skies once more. Moments later, [Rain of Flames] descended in a violent tempest, harvesting hundreds of lives in a single sweep.

Observers could not help but gaze at him with undisguised envy.

Nearby, other Tier 6 and Tier 7 Enhanced were desperately lobbing isolated fireballs. Witnessing Big Mike’s screen-wiping carnage, their own efforts suddenly appeared quite meager.

"Emily, I require assistance too!" Garrick complained, unwilling to let Big Mike monopolize the glory.

A moment later, he too was refreshed, soaring back over the horde to summon colossal boulders that crashed down in endless succession.

The conflict intensified, reaching a boiling point.

Artillery shells continued to rain down, targeting the thickest clusters and methodically thinning out the horde.

The heavy machine guns never ceased their screaming, carving paths of destruction through the ranks.

Under such layered fire, the zombies' numbers plummeted. In a matter of minutes, casualties surpassed the hundred-thousand mark.

Everything appeared to be trending in their favor...

But this was merely a superficial impression.

After more than ten minutes of uninterrupted shelling, the booming roar of the artillery began to wane. A soldier rushed toward Colonel Mitchell, his expression tense.

"Commander! We have exhausted our supply of shells!"

"Understood." Colonel Mitchell dismissed him with a wave, showing no sign of surprise.

"Hold the riverbank," he commanded. "Do not yield an inch."

"Yes, sir!"

With the artillery silenced, the battlefield grew eerily quiet.

However, without the shells gouging massive holes in their rear lines, the following zombies grew increasingly reckless.

Wave after wave surged forward. An increasing number broke through the machine-gun lanes, hurling themselves into the river to swim toward the far side.

Instantly, the pressure intensified.

The Tier 6 ranged Enhanced could eliminate enemies of that tier or lower with speed—but there were fewer than ten thousand of them. Initially, they managed to cope.

As the river clogged with bodies, they started to falter.

Furthermore, utilizing skills was energy-intensive. Even with the aid of crystal cores, regeneration required time. No one could maintain a relentless barrage forever.

Soon enough, the first zombies reached the near shore.

The shoreline was densely packed with melee Enhanced, who hacked them down before they could clamber onto the land.

But the moment one breached the defense...

Another followed. Then a third.

As time elapsed, an increasing number of zombies made landfall, clashing head-on with the defenders in brutal, chaotic close-quarters combat.

Fortunately, the humans maintained the advantage of terrain. The zombies could not breach their position rapidly.

For a brief period, the opposing sides remained locked in a stalemate.

But that stalemate endured for only half an hour.

Thirty minutes later, the roar of the machine guns finally died out as well.

The implications were painfully clear.

They were out of ammunition.

Colonel Mitchell released a heavy sigh. The inevitable outcome had finally arrived.

Within less than an hour, through the combined efforts of artillery and heavy weaponry, they had accounted for nearly eight hundred thousand zombie kills—significantly exceeding their initial projections.

When combined with the losses Big Mike and the others had inflicted earlier, the total exceeded one million.

Yet, the horde still contained nearly two million remaining threats.

The sheer scale was enough to crush the soul.

Bereft of the machine guns to create lanes, the zombies surged forward like water through a broken dam.

The Silverstone River was virtually choked with corpses. Zombies simply sprinted across the surface, stepping upon the remains of their fallen kin as if crossing a grotesque bridge.

"Brothers!" Colonel Mitchell bellowed, his voice piercing the chaos. "The true struggle commences now. Fix bayonets—slaughter them all!"

He locked his bayonet into place and led the charge, diving straight into the oncoming tide.

"Slay them!" The Enhanced roared in response, charging forward to meet the swarm.

At this juncture, retreat was not an option.

Only a fight to the death remained.

"We move as well!" Chris yelled.

"Fallen Star Squad—attack!"

At his command, Henry, Emily, Mia, Skinny Pete, and the others unsheathed their melee weapons and threw themselves into the zombie mass.

Trailing them were the mutant beasts: Goldie the Bengal tiger, Speckles the panther, Pumpkin the orange cat—and eight massive, white-furred apes.

Each of the eight white-furred apes was at Stage C (Tier 12). Every member of the Fallen Star Squad held a rank of Tier 10 or higher. Goldie, Speckles, and Pumpkin were at Tier 9.

Their lineup remained a terrifying force to behold.

Wherever they tread, the zombies were instantly drenched in gore.

The battle reached its most savage and desperate zenith.

Yet, Ethan was nowhere to be found on the battlefield.

He had canvassed every surrounding area again—meticulously, cautiously, refusing to overlook even the smallest corner.

Ultimately, he reached a singular conclusion:

The Zombie King was not in the immediate vicinity.

This, however, defied logic. How could it be directing the horde otherwise?

"Do not tell me it is capable of borrowing the eyes of other zombies," Ethan muttered to himself.

It seemed impossible. Even if it could hijack vision, it surely could not be coordinating the entire horde through some sort of relay, could it?

He observed the distant carnage, anxiety knotting his chest. He reminded himself that this was no time for panic. He had to maintain his composure.

"If the entity is not in this area, the only remaining possibility is that it is integrated within the horde itself!"

"But I have scrutinized almost every single one, and there is no sign of a Zombie King. I scanned all those Tier 9 zombies, too—none possess special abilities. They cannot be directing millions of creatures. They are not the Zombie King."

Ethan’s expression darkened, frustration simmering beneath the surface.

"Then where in the hell is it hiding? Do not tell me... it is concealed within the physical vessel of another zombie?"

He was still fuming when a sudden realization struck him.

"Huh... wait."