Apocalypse: King of Zombies-Chapter 641: He’s not dead

"Join our noble Vampire Race..."

Titus vanished in a blur, reappearing right in front of Robert in the blink of an eye. His claws slashed through the air, slicing so fast they left behind a trail of sonic booms.

Robert’s eyes widened in a daze. He tried to dodge on instinct, but he was just a split second too slow. A searing pain tore through his chest as Titus’s claws ripped a deep gash across it.

Blood gushed out in thick streams.

Staggering back a few steps, Robert collapsed onto the cold, unforgiving ground.

The mutant virus had already sunk deep into his bones.

"Now you can go slaughter the people you once called your own," Titus said, towering over him with a twisted grin. He loathed humans who pretended to be noble. Justice? Protection? All lies they told themselves to feel better.

Once the mutant virus took hold, all those illusions would be stripped away.

"Robert!"

From behind, the humans cried out in panic. A few girls had already broken down, sobbing uncontrollably.

"Robert... get up!"

"You can beat the Vampire Race!"

"Don’t let the virus win!"

"Please..."

Their prayers filled the air—but when they looked up, their hearts nearly stopped.

Robert’s eyes were glowing blood-red.

He was on all fours, panting heavily like a raging bull. A violent, primal hunger surged inside him—a thirst for blood he could barely contain.

"No... I can’t... not like this..."

The last fragments of his sanity screamed at him to resist.

But the virus was relentless. Gavin had fallen the same way—he couldn’t stop himself from tearing into the very people he’d sworn to protect.

Robert’s vision was soaked in red. His thoughts were slipping, his instincts taking over. Slowly, he rose to his feet, turning toward the humans he once fought to defend.

Blood and saliva dripped from the corner of his mouth. He was on the edge of losing control.

"Shit..."

The crowd recoiled in horror, instinctively stepping back.

"Heh heh heh... now that’s more like it," Titus chuckled darkly, baring two rows of razor-sharp fangs. This was exactly what he wanted.

Clink! Clink! Clink!

Suddenly, something fell from Robert’s chest and hit the rocky ground with a series of sharp, metallic chimes.

A crystal core—glowing faintly with flickers of lightning energy—rolled to a stop.

Robert looked down, and his breath caught in his throat. That core... it was his father’s. And in its glow, he could almost see his father’s weathered face.

"Son, be strong. You’ll always be my pride..."

His father’s final words echoed in his ears.

Robert’s body trembled.

He looked down at the katana in his hand. The scientists who’d forged it had engraved a single word on the blade: "Justice." And now, under the dim light, that word blazed like fire.

To everyone, he was still that bright, stubborn, hopeful teenager who never gave up.

"My justice... won’t be erased."

The red faded from Robert’s eyes. Clarity returned.

He slowly knelt down and picked up the crystal core.

"Huh???"

Titus’s brow furrowed. He hadn’t expected this. A flicker of confusion crossed his face.

Robert raised the core to his lips—and swallowed it.

In that moment, they became one.

The lightning energy surged through his veins. His father had died protecting humanity. Now, Robert would carry that legacy forward.

He moved.

But instead of attacking the humans in front of him, he spun around and slashed his blade straight at Titus.

The katana sliced through the air like a bolt of lightning, aimed directly at Titus’s throat—one clean strike, deadly and precise.

The sudden reversal caught Titus completely off guard. But he wasn’t weak—his reflexes kicked in just in time. He threw up his arm to shield his neck.

"Screeeech—"

The sound of metal grinding against flesh and bone tore through the air as Robert’s katana bit into Titus’s arm. The blade lodged deep into the bone, but didn’t make it all the way to his neck.

"Damn close!" Titus gasped, eyes wide with shock. He staggered back, rattled. The fact that this human—infected, no less—had resisted the virus and turned his blade on him? That was unthinkable.

Behind them, the crowd stood frozen, stunned by what they’d just witnessed.

That boy... he was still protecting them.

Robert’s eyes burned with unwavering resolve.

"I’m my father’s pride!" he screamed inside his head, pouring every last ounce of strength into his blade.

In an instant, a blinding surge of lightning exploded from him, shooting skyward like a second sun, tearing through the night.

The darkness was swallowed in a flash of white.

The raw, violent energy crackled louder and louder, until the world itself seemed to lose all color, all sound—everything drowned in that electric fury.

"AAARGHHH—!" Titus shrieked in agony as the lightning engulfed him. Thousands of silver arcs danced across his body, searing his flesh, burning through muscle and bone. Acrid smoke curled into the air.

Under the blazing light, the word engraved on Robert’s blade—Justice—shone like a brand.

"Justice delivered!" Robert roared.

The katana came down again, slicing through the illusion, through the lies, through everything.

SHHHING—

The blade cleaved through Titus’s arm, then swept clean through his neck. His monstrous head spun through the air, eyes still wide in disbelief.

No blood spilled—just a charred, blackened stump where his neck had been. His massive body collapsed with a thunderous crash.

Robert watched it fall, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

Then the dizziness hit.

That last strike had drained everything he had. His limbs went numb. He couldn’t feel his body anymore.

The world tilted.

Darkness closed in.

He collapsed, the katana slipping from his fingers with a soft clink as it hit the ground beside him.

...

Titus—the strongest adopted son of the Crimson Count—had been slain by a human.

But no one cheered.

Instead, a heavy silence fell over the mountaintop. Grief settled in their hearts like a stone.

Because the cost had been too high.

Robert lay in a pool of blood, that same faint smile still on his lips. But his chest no longer rose and fell.

He had fulfilled his father’s dying wish.

He hadn’t let anyone down.

"Is he... gone?"

"I don’t know."

"No. He’s not dead. He’ll live on—forever. In our hearts."

"..."

The people swallowed their sorrow. The battle wasn’t over.

From the base of the mountain, more zombies were swarming upward—dozens, hundreds of them. Their faces twisted with rage, eyes glowing with bloodlust, they charged like a tidal wave of death.

"Kill them all!"

The crowd roared, their spirits ignited by Robert’s sacrifice. Determination burned in their eyes. Some even chose to go down fighting, taking the infected with them in a blaze of defiance.

At the summit—

Mia was still locked in combat with the Crimson Count.

But the explosion of lightning from Robert’s final attack had drawn everyone’s attention. That blinding flash, that moment of brilliance—it had lasted only a heartbeat, but it had lit up the night like fireworks.

And now, the boy lay motionless in a pool of blood.

He never got back up.

Mia stared at him, her expression unreadable.

The Crimson Count, however, looked grim.

Titus had been no weaker than Robert. He’d only died because he’d let his guard down.

This loss... was more than he’d anticipated.

"We can’t afford to drag this out any longer..."

...