All Chapters of God Of War System : Apocalypse King: Chapter 111
- Chapter 120
120 chapters
CHAPTER 110: MESSAGE FROM THE EASTERN ROUTE
Five Years Later. The sound of children's loud laughter blended with the low hum of solar-powered generators, creating a melody of peace that felt utterly alien compared to the world five years ago. CitraLand no longer looked like an emergency refugee camp. Under Satria's absolute leadership and Alexander's iron hand, this place had blossomed into a self-sufficient city. Empty lots once overgrown with weeds were now transformed into wheat fields and lush green hydroponic gardens. In one of the repurposed luxury homes, a small school had been established to educate the new generation. Zombie or mutant threats from outside the walls were rare, thanks to routine patrols and the cordon of undead that still stood guard faithfully. Life in CitraLand had returned to "normal." So normal that sometimes boredom began to creep into the minds of those who used to gamble with their lives every day. On the stretch
CHAPTER 111: THE BIRTH OF THE HEIR
Eight months had passed since Hasan and his group brought news of mutant movements on the border. In that time, CitraLand was no longer just a barricaded housing complex. It had evolved into a fortress of civilization, thrumming with life. Hasan, the middle-aged man who had once arrived breathless and terrified, now stood tall in a tactical vest. He had been promoted to platoon commander under Rizal's command. Behind him, the survival team that came with him had all found vital roles. Raka, the teenager who once wept hysterically, was now the ace sniper guarding the north tower. Bayu, the scout, moved nimbly along the outer perimeter, while Siti and Mrs. Darmi had taken over the communal kitchen and logistics with the other women. Mr. Harun, the old mechanic, had managed to bring the main generator back to life, giving their makeshift hospital a 24-hour power supply. Amidst all this progress, one thing had become the center of gravity for ev
CHAPTER 112: A NEW CIVILIZATION BEHIND THE WALLS
Five Years Later. The sound of children’s bright laughter mixed with the low hum of solar-powered generators, creating a melody of peace that felt utterly alien compared to the world of five years ago. CitraLand no longer looked like a makeshift refugee camp. Under the absolute leadership of Satria and the iron fist of Alexander, the place had blossomed into a self-sufficient city. Empty lots that were once overgrown with weeds had been transformed into lush green wheat fields and hydroponic vegetable farms. In one of the repurposed luxury homes, a small school had been established to educate the new generation. The threat of zombies or mutants from beyond the walls was now a rare occurrence, thanks to routine patrols and the unwavering human shield of undead who still stood guard. Life in CitraLand had returned to "normal." So normal, in fact, that boredom began to creep into the minds of those who once gambled wi
CHAPTER 113: NEWS FROM ACROSS THE OCEAN
The main study on the second floor of the luxury house went dead silent. The air seemed to be sucked out, leaving a tension that made it hard for anyone to breathe. Satria sat behind his large teak desk. Around him, his five women gathered. Cindy and Tri stood behind Satria's chair, placing their hands on the War God's shoulders to offer support. Abigail stood near the window, arms crossed with a tense face. Meanwhile, on the leather sofa not far from the desk, Sarah and Jessica sat carefully. The hands of the two loyal concubines instinctively rubbed their bellies which were now noticeably round—both were pregnant, a new blessing Satria had planted a few months ago, reinforcing the dominance of the King's dynasty in CitraLand. However, everyone's focus was currently on the dull object on the desk. Satria had just broken the red wax seal and cork from the glass bottle. The smell of sea salt, moss, and the musty sce
CHAPTER 114: THE KING'S DECISION
The silence inside the main study felt heavier than the pressure at the bottom of the ocean. Outside, CitraLand slept in a false peace, unaware of the emotional storm battering the heart of their kingdom. Satria still stood frozen in front of the large glass wall, alone; his broad and sturdy back now seemed to bear the weight of the entire world. In the dark reflection of the glass, he could see the blurry shadow of Indri's letter lying on the table, a ghost from the past coming to collect on a promise. Satria's mind was in turmoil. Go. His heart as a father screamed. Your child is being hunted. Your flesh and blood is starving in a hellish jungle. What good is this throne if you can't protect your own heir? Stay. His cold logic as a King retorted. Roy is at the border. Hundreds of lives in this city depend on your strength. Leaving them now is the act of an irresponsible ruler. It is betrayal.<
CHAPTER 115: TWO FRONTS OF WAR
The silence following Satria’s slam on the table felt solid, as if time itself was holding its breath, waiting for the King’s decree. Every eye in the Command Room—whether filled with cold calculation or flooded with emotion—was locked on the single man standing at the head of the table. "You can't do both, Satria," Alexander hissed, breaking the silence first. "That's bullshit. You’re not God." "I’m not God," Satria retorted, his gaze as sharp as a spear tip. "I am the God of War. And a War God never retreats from two fronts. He destroys them one by one." Satria walked around the table, his aura radiating an absolute conviction that made the doubt in the room begin to evaporate. He stopped in front of the map of East Java, picked up the piece representing himself, and placed it back in the center of CitraLand. "Listen closely, because I’m only going to say t
CHAPTER 116: DANCE OF DEATH ON THE OPEN SEA
Five hours had passed since The Redeemer left the river mouth and entered the open waters of the Java Sea. The silence of the night had now turned into a terrifying symphony. The previously clear, starry sky was now covered by thick black clouds. The wind blew harder, raising three-meter waves that slammed against the hull with loud thuds. In the wheelhouse, Rizal struggled to maintain the ship's course. His serious face was wet with seawater spraying through a cracked window. Beside him, Bayu the scout pressed his face against the ancient radar screen, trying to find a gap in the storm. "The storm came faster than predicted, Boss!" Rizal shouted over the intercom. "Visibility is zero! The radar is starting to glitch too!" On the slippery, violently rocking main deck, Satria stood firm like a steel pillar. His feet planted on the deck, his body moving in rhythm with the fierce waves. Tri stood behind him, gripping the fl
CHAPTER 117: AUDIENCE IN THE HEART OF ALAS PURWO
(Flashback: Two Years Ago) The forest at the eastern tip of Java didn't just stay silent. The forest breathed. In the depths of Alas Purwo, Banyuwangi, giant banyan trees towered as high as skyscrapers, covering the sky with a canopy of leaves so dense that even the midday sun failed to penetrate it. The air here felt heavy, humid, and smelled of ancient earth mixed with the sweet scent of decaying chlorophyll. Elena walked slowly over a carpet of thick moss. Her wedding dress, once white, had turned dull gray, torn here and there by thorns. Her bluish-pale skin contrasted with the gloom of the forest. Beside her, little Sofia walked hugging her one-eyed teddy bear, her small footsteps making no sound. Behind them, thousands of zombies they brought from Surabaya stopped at the forest border. Their undead instincts screamed in fear. They knew, inside there, was something far older and hungrier than th
CHAPTER 118: FIRST FIRE AT THE BORDER
The sky above the border of East Java and Central Java was pitch gray, covered in thin volcanic ash carried by the wind from active volcanoes. In an old fishing village on the coast of Tuban long abandoned by humans, silence was usually the sole ruler. However, today, the sound of simultaneous, heavy marching footsteps shook the sandy ground of the village. Not the footsteps of terrified survivors, nor the shambling steps of the walking dead dragging their feet. This was the stomp of military boots marching in a terrifying rhythm. One battalion of scout troops from Roy's faction had arrived. They were zombies, but their appearance was a nightmarish parody of an armed force. Their rotting bodies were clad in the remnants of camouflage uniforms of the Indonesian National Armed Forces (TNI) modified with rusty iron plates and used tire rubber as armor. On their heads, cracked Kevlar helmets were fitted
CHAPTER 119: CALL OF WAR
The afternoon sun hung low in the western sky, bathing the concrete walls of CitraLand in orange light resembling the color of rust. Outside the main gate, construction activity was at its peak. The sound of hammers, chainsaws, and foreman shouts filled the air. Alexander stood atop a pile of light bricks, holding a crumpled roll of blueprints. Beside him, Bima was wiping sweat with a dirty towel, while Hasan—now serving as tactical defense chief—was checking the trench slope angle with a serious face. "The angle must be forty-five degrees," Hasan muttered, pointing at the excavation. "Too steep, the soil collapses. Too shallow, Roy's troops can climb it while smoking." "But we're short on cement for reinforcement, San," complained one foreman. "Use bones," Alexander interrupted suddenly. He didn't look up from the blueprints, but his flat voice cut through the debate. "Tell my corpse arm