Chapter Thirteen: Struggle for Survival

Wujue immediately led everyone to retreat, his steel blade sweeping through the air as he toppled shelves to block the zombies' path. Meanwhile, he used his earpiece to contact Xiao Yang, asking when the convoy would return to pick them up.

Receiving the signal, Xiao Yang informed him that the convoy was already on its way and should arrive in a few minutes, urging them to hold on as best they could.

During their conversation, Wujue had already backed up to the supermarket entrance. Taking advantage of the zombies being blocked, he grabbed the door, preparing to lock it. Yet, just then, several people outside rushed back in, saying, “Master, there are so many zombies outside! We can’t break through; what should we do?”

Wujue turned to look and saw the street teeming with more zombies, drawn by the commotion and surging toward them. Their numbers were far beyond what these people could handle.

Resigned, he steeled himself and said, “Everyone, get back inside and lock the door. We’ll have to fight with our backs against the wall and take on the zombies inside.”

He allowed everyone back in, closed the door, secured it with chains, and together they shoved shelves against the entrance to reinforce their barricade.

The zombies outside were finally blocked, pressed against the door, howling viciously through the glass, powerless to get in.

Everyone turned to face the zombies inside, and the situation remained dire. Several zombies had already climbed over the shelves and were lunging toward them.

“What do we do?” At this moment, those following Wujue instinctively relied on him. After all, every crisis had been overcome under the guidance of this imposing monk.

Wujue surveyed their surroundings and said, “Form a circle, back to back. Find whatever weapons you can. I’ll teach you a rudimentary formation of the Arhat array—use it as best you can for now. I’ll take the front and deal with as many zombies as possible. If any get through, do your best to finish them off. Remember, aim for the head, and don’t hesitate.”

As soon as he finished speaking, a zombie lunged at Wujue—a tall man, his face pallid, mouth smeared with grotesque blood and flesh, snarling as he tried to bite.

Wujue deftly brandished his blade, stepping back slightly. With a swift stroke, he split the zombie’s head open, releasing a torrent of filthy blood as the creature collapsed, twitching and defeated.

Without delay, Wujue began his assault, holding position about two meters ahead of the group. As each zombie approached, he struck them down, leaving them sprawling on the floor.

In a short time, he dispatched four or five zombies; the rest were trapped behind the toppled shelves, unable to break through.

Seizing the opportunity, Wujue scanned the area and found some iron shovels and knives, distributing them among the group. He himself took up an axe and led them forward.

Approaching the shelves cautiously, Wujue instructed the others on the essentials of the formation. Although their understanding was limited, their arrangement was far more organized than before.

Wujue climbed atop the shelves to peer inside. Zombies were desperately clawing their way up, screeching wildly at the sight of him. He carefully counted their numbers, then jumped down and said, “I’ll pull the shelves apart. Everyone, get ready.”

Positioned at the center, he unleashed the full force of his Vajra palm, splitting the stack of shelves with a thunderous blow, leaving a gap just wide enough for one person to pass.

Immediately, a zombie squeezed through, and before it could fully emerge, Wujue struck it squarely on the forehead with his axe. Blood poured out as it collapsed.

He quickly dragged the body aside. “Form up. Attack one at a time while others cover.”

Following his instructions, the group lined up, taking turns to strike, dispatching the zombies one by one. It took over half an hour before no more zombies appeared.

Exhausted, everyone sank to the floor, breathing heavily. Wujue went around inspecting the fallen zombies, finishing off any that hadn’t died completely, ensuring all were destroyed before ending his sweep.

He said to the group, “We’ve made it through this ordeal. Now we wait for the others to come rescue us.”

“But even if they come, how do we get out?” someone asked, voice tinged with pessimism.

Wujue merely smiled faintly, confident that after all they’d been through, these people would not abandon their only hope.

In this apocalypse, only Wujue could lead others toward hope. To give up on him was to give up the sole chance of survival.

He knew, even if no one came, he could escape on his own.

But to do so, he would have to disregard the lives of these people.

Wujue was slightly surprised at his own thoughts. He said nothing, but suddenly Xiao Han’s voice came through the earpiece, urgently asking, “Master, we’re already here, but the street is full of zombies. Where should we go to rescue you?”

“Wait a moment. Let me check for another exit. Don’t approach yet, or you’ll draw the zombies’ attention.”

While communicating with Xiao Han, Wujue searched for another way out. Soon, he discovered a staircase in the second-floor restroom. Downstairs, only two or three zombies wandered aimlessly, not yet besieging the exit.

He instructed Xiao Han to drive around to the new location, then led the group quietly down the stairs, slipping out of the supermarket.

Before leaving, he had everyone take as many medical supplies as possible. He ordered them to form a line, with two people at the front and back, watching different directions to guard against sudden zombie attacks.

Wujue himself took the lead, swiftly breaking through, eliminating any zombies encountered along the way.

After finally reaching the street, Xiao Han’s convoy arrived. Wujue thought he could finally relax.

But then, a scream rang out behind them—a zombie, not fully dead, grabbed someone and bit fiercely into his thigh.

The cries immediately attracted the attention of nearby zombies. Wujue shouted, “Everyone else, get in the cars. I’ll rescue him.”

He dashed back, stomping the zombie deep into the ground, then with a single stroke, severed its head and arm.

He helped the bitten man up, slung him onto his back, and ran to catch up with the others.

Most were now safely in the vehicles, and witnessing Wujue’s prowess left them utterly stunned.

As Wujue helped the man aboard, he ordered everyone to drive off. Only then did they leave the area.

Looking at the wounded man’s bleeding left leg, the muscle torn away in a gruesome chunk, the man frowned at Wujue, perhaps realizing his fate was sealed.

Suddenly, he said, “Kill me, Master. I don’t want to become a zombie!”

Wujue shook his head, but then brought down his blade, severing the man’s left foot and tossing it out of the car.

“In my dictionary, there is no such thing as giving up.”

End of Chapter Thirteen: Surviving in the Divine Martial Apocalypse.