Apocalypse Gachapon

The ground of the Holy City had been specially treated—a feat even Cloud Peak had to admire.

Cloud Peak’s terrain had also been modified, but theirs was based on defensive formations. Thanks to the presence of two top-tier laboratories, Cloud Peak’s underground facilities were even more expansive than its surface, effectively making it two cities in one.

But the Holy City was far larger, spanning many times the area of Cloud Peak. Treating every inch of such a vast space was an immense challenge.

Moreover, this kind of work could only be done by specialized personnel, requiring tremendous manpower and resources.

For a city to remain untouched by mutated lifeforms, the cost was extraordinarily high.

However, the Holy City’s modifications weren’t as refined or “high-class” as Cloud Peak’s—especially in ordinary districts, which paled in comparison to critical zones like the royal palace or military barracks.

The “disgusting creatures” in Ahmad’s eyes were naturally Nine Treasures and the giant white earthworm it had brought back from North America as its mate.

Both were level-eight, with Nine Treasures even verging on level-nine, thanks to its ability to absorb energy at all times and the premium environment Cloud Peak provided—such as Lan You and other resources.

High level, excellent treatment, and reliable allies naturally led to formidable strength.

Logically, the ground near the palace should have been thoroughly reinforced. But Nine Treasures’ keen senses and formidable burrowing skills allowed it to find a weak point, breaking through alongside its mate and emerging at the Holy City’s heart.

A surge of fury rose in Ahmad’s chest.

These people had gone too far!

Attacking the city gates was one thing. Killing the defenders—whom he didn’t particularly care for—was another. But now, they had come here—right before the palace, at the core of the Holy City!

Though these creatures posed no real threat to him, their actions felt like spitting on something precious, enraging the king.

With a flick of his wrist, he hurled an object—a fist-sized golden block that rapidly expanded midair. By the time it loomed over Nine Treasures, it had grown into a small mountain.

Whether it was naturally radiant or a gold-grade equipment, the sheer menace it exuded was undeniable.

Nine Treasures hadn’t expected to be attacked the moment it emerged, half its body still underground. Instinct screamed danger.

It barked a warning to its mate, and the two level-eight lifeforms prepared to counterattack. They couldn’t dodge—their mission wasn’t just to breach the Holy City but to open an underground passage for reinforcements.

“Ah!”

A sharp, piercing shriek—not loud but agonizingly shrill—suddenly echoed through the air. The descending golden mass staggered midair, slowing and veering slightly off course.

“Leave this to me. You two, focus on your task.”

The soft, feminine voice made Nine Treasures and its mate immediately halt their attack, ignoring the falling golden block entirely. Their massive bodies twisted, fully emerging from the ground and revealing a dark, gaping tunnel beneath.

At some point, Talking Lady had appeared, cradling her black cat. The shriek had come from her.

She eyed the golden block and lazily flicked her hand—as if swatting a fly. The block obediently veered away, crashing into the ground with a deafening boom that shook the surroundings.

This level-nine being, whom Ye Zhongming had brought along out of caution, locked eyes with Ahmad high above in the palace. Then, she suddenly smiled.

“A strange one… You are lacking something, aren’t you?”

Her voice was soft, spoken in Chinese, yet Ahmad heard it clearly—his face paling slightly.

This wasn’t just a remark. It was a mental assault.

“Hmph!”

Ahmad snorted, his wooden staff striking the floor. The intricate tiles beneath him cracked, and his voice reverberated through the palace halls, dispelling the woman’s psychic attack.

But his emotions were far from the anger he displayed. He was shaken.

Level-nine!

A woman and her cat—both ninth-level existences!

Were these Easterners’ trump cards?

Ahmad glanced at the sky. The flares made it impossible to gauge the exact time—how long until dawn?

But he knew one thing: with level-nine lifeforms at his doorstep, the Holy City’s only hope now lay with Sayyid.

The Holy City’s ruler took a deep breath and raised his staff—

Yet, just as he prepared to fight, he realized the woman holding the level-nine mutated cat had stopped moving. She simply stood there, watching him silently.

What… was this?

As Ahmad hesitated, zombies began pouring out of the tunnel behind Talking Lady, their numbers swelling like ants from a shattered nest.

Talking Lady stood motionless, her cat in her arms, while behind her, a tide of undead surged forward. Ahmad remained at the palace window. The scene—some still, some frenzied—formed a grotesque tableau.

He knew he should attack now.

Yet he didn’t.

Several seconds later, he finally spoke.

“Aba, order the Royal Guard to hold their positions—their priority is defending the palace. Send someone to intercept the Little Prince and have him rendezvous with Sayyid. And mobilize all nearby evolved to exterminate these zombies.”

The Black man nodded. Without moving, the air around him distorted, and he vanished.

Watching the chaos below, listening to the rising screams and clashes, Ahmad clenched his staff in anguish.

“I… still lack the courage, after all.”

………………………………………………

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

Every strike against the gates hammered into the western commander’s heart.

He swung his weapon mechanically, cutting down the surrounding mutated lifeforms, but a crushing despair seeped into his bones.

From zombie-loaded artillery shells to barrages of missiles, and now this endless swarm of bizarre creatures, he and his defenders had witnessed too many horrors in a single day.

They had also learned that these Easterners’ siege tactics defied all logic.

The commander had already committed all reserves, yet the enemy could not be stopped.

The genetic monstrosities scaling the walls grew by the minute. The defensive artillery meant to support the gates had all but ceased firing. The gates’ fall was inevitable.

Now, he faced a choice.

The walls were chaos. Once the gates fell, the enemy would flood inside, stranding his forces as a lone pocket of resistance.

If they held out, they might even become a thorn in the enemy’s heart—a rallying point for a counterattack.

But… could they last that long?

The enslaved armies had reached the city’s base. Should he order a retreat, abandoning the walls to regroup with them?

Gritting his teeth, the northern commander chose self-preservation.

The moment his forces descended—

A deafening explosion rocked the western district.

The gates had fallen.

The Holy City now stood wide open.