Apocalypse: King of Zombies Chapter 1318: While the Threat Remains

Within the remote confines of Karst Valley State's mountainous terrain, a contingent of formidable Stoneborn warriors had convened in a particular area of the wilderness. They initially numbered twenty-five individuals. Now, a mere eight remained to tell the tale.

The warrior leading them was consumed by a fury so intense that his jaw clenched relentlessly, as if it might shatter, yet all his rage remained trapped within, finding no outlet for release. It churned incessantly in his chest, entirely ineffectual. The very instant his mind recalled the image of that figure—the one who had effortlessly dispatched one of their own with a singular, brutal punch—his entire body betrayed him, succumbing to an uncontrollable, chilling shiver that coursed down his spine.

On the continent of Eldoria, he had encountered formidable strength. However, he had never before witnessed such an overwhelming degree of power. There were no ostentatious displays, no intricate techniques, only raw, unadulterated force.

"What is our next course of action, boss?" one of the remaining men inquired, his voice laced with apprehension. "Shall we retreat?"

"Retreat to do what?" the leader retorted sharply, his eyes dark with grim resolve. "If we bring that *thing* back with us, who among our clan possesses the capability to contend with it!?"

"This is utterly accursed," someone muttered under their breath, the words filled with disbelief. "How can a place like this possibly harbor a soulless thrall of such immense power?"

The leader's gaze snapped towards them, sharp and accusatory. "And you two—why did it take so long for two of you to subdue a single Tier 19 human? How have you not yet finished him?"

"Boss... it truly wasn't our fault." Gravel's face contorted as if he were on the verge of tears. "He didn't just possess a spatial-type ability—Teleportation. He also wielded a space-time ability."

"A space-time ability!?" The Stoneborn warriors collectively froze, their eyes widening in astonishment.

"Impossible."

"Such powers vanished eons ago."

"A mere Tier 19 human trash cannot possibly possess such a thing."

"I cannot explain it either," Gravel interjected rapidly, nearly stumbling over his words, "but it was unequivocally a space-time ability!" He then proceeded to recount the events that had just transpired, from beginning to end.

By the time he concluded his account, the group had fallen into a profound silence, each individual's face etched with tension, their brows furrowed in deep concentration.

If Gravel spoke the truth... then yes.

It was indeed plausible.

And that dawning realization struck them with the chilling force of an icy hand gripping their hearts.

A space-time ability—a power that entwined both time and space, something that utterly defied conventional understanding.

"Teleportation and space-time..." the leader uttered, his voice heavy, his brow deeply creased. "If that human is permitted to mature, he will become a terrifying entity."

"Boss," one of them ventured, casting uneasy glances around, "what should we do now? I do not feel safe here. If *they* discover us, we are finished."

"It is alright." The leader forced his voice to remain steady. "This pocket world is vast. We shall venture further into the wilderness and then infiltrate human territory. We will remain inconspicuous for a period. First, we must ascertain the nature of this world."

His eyes narrowed as his thoughts began to coalesce.

"With such a monstrous soulless thrall, and the emergence of space-time abilities..." He paused, a glimmer of contemplation in his gaze. "This world may not be as straightforward as we initially assumed. We might even uncover an opportunity here—something that could facilitate our breakthrough."

"Oh." The spirits of the others lifted slightly. "Yes, boss. We will follow your lead."

"Good." He gestured with his chin towards the dark, undulating ridges. "Move out. Head deeper into the mountains."

"Understood."

Fallen Star City...

Ethan was in a state of rest when his phone vibrated with an incoming call. It was Maxwell.

"Ethan. They have ventured into the deep mountains," Maxwell reported. "Satellites are currently unable to acquire their precise location, but we have confirmed the mountain range they are within. We have surveillance feeds focused on that area—should they emerge, we will detect them instantly."

"Mm." Ethan's voice was calm, yet his eyes held a chilling coldness. "Good work. Maintain your observation. If they begin to drift towards the Void Realm, inform me the moment you observe it."

"Understood."

The call concluded. Ethan lay back onto the bed, exhaling slowly.

A moment later, a distinct knocking sounded at the door.

"Enter."

Shortly thereafter, a beautiful figure gracefully entered, carrying a conspicuously large bowl. Mia’s cheeks bore a faint flush as she spoke. “Hey…” “Miles had them prepare this. Mutant chicken stew. It aids in recovery... you should consume it while it’s still warm.”

"Oh. Alright." Ethan did not decline. He had indeed lost a significant amount of blood—he genuinely needed to replenish his strength.

He sat up, accepting the bowl... and the instant his gaze fell upon its contents, his eyes widened in surprise.

"Damn," he blurted out. "Isn't this a bit *too* nourishing?"

It was a thick, opulent stew that appeared to have been slow-cooked for many hours—substantial pieces of mutant chicken simmered alongside hefty slices of medicinal roots, wild herbs, and dried berries.

Prior to the apocalypse, any single one of these components would have been considered potent "body-toning" sustenance. Following the cataclysm, with the pervasive awakening and saturation of mysterious energies, their efficacy had presumably skyrocketed to unimaginable levels.

Consuming a bowl of this in the evening… Was he even going to be capable of sleeping?

"Miles mentioned you lost far too much blood," Mia observed as she watched him. "If you intend to recuperate within a few days, you require something potent."

"...Alright." Ethan nodded, accepting the situation.

He knew he couldn't afford to take things slow.

Not with those few individuals still out there. If he didn't deal with them soon, it was only a matter of time before something went wrong.

Before long, Ethan had finished the entire bowl – both the meat and the broth, not a single drop left.

In this apocalypse, resources were incredibly scarce. Something as delicious as this? Wasting it wasn't even an option.

"Thanks. You worked hard," Ethan said, handing the empty bowl back to Mia.

"By the way... why are you the one delivering it? Where is everyone else?"

"They all said they were busy," Mia replied, her face still flushed a little red. "So... it ended up being me."

"Oh." Ethan nodded, acting as if it was no big deal.

Mia hesitated by the bed. "Captain... how do you feel?"

"Pretty good," Ethan responded honestly. "Just... kinda hot. Guess it was a little too nourishing."

"Good." Mia's voice softened. "Then... I'll head out."

"Mm."

Mia picked up the bowl and stood to leave.

Ethan watched her departure – observed that flawless back, the way she moved – and before he even realized what he was doing, he activated [True Sight] and took a look.

Bad idea.

His already overheated blood went straight past "warm" and into full-on . His nose prickled, sensing it was about to betray him on the spot.

Ethan clamped a hand over his nose and inhaled sharply.

"Um... Mia," he blurted out. "I'm not really sleepy right now. How about you stay and talk for a bit?"

"Okay." She agreed instantly, without even a second's hesitation.

She placed the bowl on the table and sat down at the edge of his bed.

For a moment, the atmosphere between them became heavy – quiet, intimate, as if the room had shrunk to encompass only the two of them. Mia broke the silence first.

"Captain... if one day we became strong enough that we didn't have to fear any threats anymore," she asked softly, "what would you want to do most?"

Ethan chuckled. "I'd probably find a girl and just live a carefree life."

Mia's fingers tightened in her lap. "Then... Captain, do you have someone in mind?"

"Hmm." Ethan rubbed his chin, his lips quirking. "Not right now."

"Oh." Mia nodded, disappointment flickering across her face.

Then, she suddenly looked up, her eyes fixed on him.

"Captain... what do you think of me?"

Ethan hadn't anticipated her asking so directly. For a second, his mind actually stalled.

"Y-you..." he managed. "You're... pretty good."

Mia made a small sound in her throat.

Ethan's eyes widened as her beautiful face moved closer – close enough that he could feel her breath. He still couldn't quite believe she was being this bold.

And with all that "recovery stew" coursing through his system, his restraint lasted about half a second.

Ethan grabbed her, pulled her into his arms, and pushed her down onto the bed in one fluid motion, his body pinning hers beneath him.

Their mouths collided again and again – hungry kisses, mingled breaths. In the pulling and fumbling, clothes were yanked loose, peeled away, tossed aside...

Before long, nothing remained between them.

Even though Ethan had already glimpsed Mia's perfect figure through [True Sight], seeing her like this – right in front of him – still caused him to freeze for a beat.

Her skin appeared smooth and luminous, almost glowing in the dim light. Every curve was precisely where it should be – soft in the right places, dangerously alluring everywhere else.

Ethan could no longer hold back. He pressed down over her.

"Mm..."

With a soft, breathy moan, their bodies finally joined – fitting together perfectly.

Outside...

"So..." Emily asked, unable to conceal her curiosity. "You think Mia’s gonna pull it off?"

"She’s been in there a while," Chris said with a shrug. "I'd say things are going pretty damn well."

"Not surprising," another voice chimed in. "You've seen the way Ethan looks at her."

"Man..." Big Mike muttered. "I should’ve gotten some of that soup too."

"Yeah?" Emily retorted. "And who exactly were you trying to impress?"

"Hey, I’ve got options."

Chris snorted. "Sure you do. Worst case? It’s just you and your right hand again."

"Alright, alright—shut up."

Laughter rippled through the group, easy and loud, as if no one wanted to dwell too heavily on what was happening behind that door.