Apocalypse: King of Zombies-Chapter 407: Don’t pin this on me!

He opened his mouth, ready to take a big bite.

But just then, a piercing cry split the sky. A sharp, high-pitched screech echoed overhead, followed by a massive shadow sweeping across the ground, blotting out the sun.

"Huh? What the hell was that?" Logan frowned and looked up.

A gigantic vulture was soaring down from Mosca Peak. Its wingspan had to be over fifty feet, and its jet-black feathers gleamed like blades, reflecting a cold, deadly light.

Its yellow eyes locked onto them, burning with fury.

It was a male vulture. A few days ago, his mate had flown off to hunt and never came back.

He'd been searching ever since, confused and worried. Where the hell did she go?

Then today, while resting in the nest, he caught a whiff of something... roasted bird.

He flew out to investigate.

And what did he find?s. Barbecuing. Right beneath his nest.

Logan stood there, dumbfounded. He looked at the claw in his hands, then back up at the massive vulture circling above.

"Wait a sec... why does this claw look exactly like the one I'm holding?"

But the giant male vulture had already lost it. With another furious screech, it spread its wings wide, whipping up a violent gust of wind, and dove straight at Logan.

Its talons, curved like iron hooks, were aimed right at him.

"Shit!" Logan yelped, stumbling backward to dodge.

BOOM!

The vulture's claws slammed into a nearby boulder, shattering it instantly. Chunks of rock exploded in every direction.

Logan glanced back at the wreckage, heart pounding. If that had hit me... I'd be nothing but a bloody smear right now.

The vulture wasn't done. It launched back into the air, wings beating hard, readying for another strike.

"Help! There's a monster up here!" Logan shouted, running toward Ethan and the others.

Sean glanced at him, mouth full of greasy vulture meat. "No shit! Vulture meat smells amazing. Of course it's gonna attract monsters!"

"Wait, WHAT?!" Logan's eyes went wide. A horrible thought crept into his mind—Did they do this on purpose? Did they give me the claw just to lure the mutant freaks away from them?!

They were halfway up Mosca Peak now—prime territory for mutated birds.

And that giant vulture? It wasn't alone.

Moments later, more screeches echoed through the sky. Dozens—no, hundreds—of massive vultures burst from their nests, wings slicing through the air as they circled overhead, darkening the sky like a living storm.

"Oh my god…"

Logan's heart was pounding with fear. One of those giant vultures was already terrifying enough—now there were dozens of them? This was it. He was done for.

Worse yet, a bunch of those monstrous birds had their glowing eyes locked right on the vulture claw he was holding. These vultures weren't just random beasts—they were part of the same flock, probably even family.

Logan panicked, feeling like he was about to be judged by an angry jury of bird relatives. Without thinking, he flung the claw down the mountainside with both hands.

"It wasn't me! I swear, I didn't even take a bite! Don't pin this on me!" he shouted, backing away.

But the vultures didn't seem to care. In fact, his little stunt only seemed to piss them off more.

With a chorus of shrieks, they dove at him in a frenzy. Some came at him with razor-sharp talons, others with hooked beaks. Massive boulders exploded around him as the birds struck, chunks of rock tumbling down the slope like an avalanche. It felt like the whole mountain was shaking.

Logan didn't dare stop. He ducked, rolled, and scrambled through the dust and debris, somehow managing to dodge every attack.

"Damn, sausage-lips over there's actually learning how to dodge," Ethan muttered, watching the chaos unfold.

But the vultures weren't just after Logan anymore. A few of them turned their attention to the rest of the group, wings slicing through the air as they dove in.

"Scatter!" Chris shouted, dropping his half-eaten meat and leaping back. The others followed suit, spreading out to avoid the incoming assault.

One of the vultures slammed its beak into the ground where they'd just been, sending rocks flying in every direction.

"Earth Armor!" Thomas roared, activating his earth-based ability. The shattered stones around him surged toward his body, clumping together until he stood over ten feet tall, encased in a hulking suit of rock.

He raised a massive stone fist and swung it straight at a diving vulture.

BOOM!

The impact was thunderous. The vulture was knocked back over a hundred feet, wings flailing as it struggled to regain balance mid-air.

But Thomas didn't come out unscathed. The stone around his fist cracked and crumbled, leaving a deep dent. His armor had nearly collapsed from the force.

"These things are no joke," Thomas growled. "They're strong—really strong."

From the way they moved, from the power behind each strike, it was clear: these weren't your average mutated beasts. Each one was at least A-rank—far more dangerous than the low-level freaks they'd fought at the base of the mountain. These were boss-tier monsters.

Jenny's face had gone pale. "I can't believe it... We're facing an entire flock of A-rank mutants?"

"Yeah," Thomas said grimly. "Mosca Peak's reputation isn't just talk."

And this was only the middle of the mountain. If A-rank monsters were already swarming here... what the hell was waiting at the summit?

S-rank?

...Or worse—S+?

Ethan's eyes narrowed as he scanned the battlefield. These mutant birds were definitely powerful. If he didn't step in soon, the team might start losing people.

Mia and Sean could hold their own, but Chris, Brandon, Oliver... they were too weak. And after everything they'd already been through, they were running on fumes. One wrong move and they'd be dead.

Just then, a few vultures locked onto Ethan, their eyes gleaming with bloodlust. They dove from behind, talons outstretched.

"Behind you!" Thomas shouted.

But Ethan had already sensed them. The shadows on the ground shifted as the massive birds blotted out the sun, and a wave of killing intent surged from behind.

Ethan turned his head slightly, just enough to glance over his shoulder. His eyes flashed red.

In that instant, he unleashed the Domain of the Dead.

The lead vulture was just fifteen feet away, its iron-hook talons about to tear into him—when suddenly, everything stopped.

It was like someone had hit pause on reality.

The air went still. The vulture froze mid-dive, wings outstretched, eyes wide.

Then, with a sickening crack, its body began to twist and contort, bones snapping like dry twigs. It looked like invisible hands were crushing it from all sides.

It didn't even have time to scream.

The massive bird crumpled and dropped like a stone, slamming into the ground with a heavy thud, lifeless.

...