Apocalypse Baby

A walking corpse of rage.

Alex narrowed his eyes.

This thing just wouldn't go down.

Fine.

More daggers materialized—a fresh storm of spectral blades, forming in the air like a shimmering, ghostly halo.

More.

And more.

Then—they struck.

A relentless onslaught of piercing death, each dagger spearing through Doomcrusher's burned, skeletal frame.

SHNK!

SHNK!

SHNK!

Blade after blade impaled it, shredding every inch, stabbing deep into its brittle bone.

Yet—it still moved.

Its breaths came in ragged, guttural growls.

Alex was amused.

By all logic, it should have collapsed.

But this juggernaut didn't seem to be built on logic.

But rather on hate.

This Warbringer—was built to endure.

But endurance had its limits.

And Alex pushed past them.

More daggers formed—a shimmering, spectral storm, swirling with deadly intent.

Then—they struck.

SHNK!

A blade pierced Doomcrusher's chest, sinking deep.

SHNK!

Another dagger ripped through its leg, cutting through, nearly toppling it.

More.

More.

Each impact staggered the beast, its monstrous frame swaying, struggling to stay upright.

To fight until its body gave out.

To refuse death until it had no other choice.

More daggers.

More piercing. More slashing. More eviscerating.

Each spectral blade tore deeper, slicing through burnt sinew, splitting bone, severing what little life remained.

Doomcrusher's steps staggered.

One more.

SHNK!

Its body trembled.

One more.

SHNK!

Its massive form lurched forward, towering over Alex—

And then—

Finally.

It fell.

The colossal gnoll, now a walking pincushion of spectral blades, collapsed.

Dead.

Right in front of him.

Alex exhaled as a notification pinged in his vision.

Ding!

[You have killed Warbringer Doomcrusher – The Indomitable Juggernaut.]

[You have leveled up!]

[You have leveled up!]

[You have received 10 stats points]

[You have received 3 powerstones]

[Apocalypse Baby Kicking In]

[You have received an additional 15 stats points]

[You have received an additional 3 powerstones]

His level was now 64.

And there were only two gnolls left.

The War Shaman, and his main target—the Beast Lord.

Alex's gaze snapped to Gorehowl, the last of the Warbringers.

The gnoll stood still, its glowing eyes locked onto him, its grip tight around its staff.

The jagged burn across its chest still smoldered, the wound fresh, raw, yet the creature showed no pain.

Alex's eyes narrowed.

Why wasn't it attacking?

Why hadn't it made a move while he was tearing its ally apart?

Something was off.

Then—He saw it.

With [Omniview], the answer became clear.

Then—he grinned.

"Oh, so this is your ploy."

Instead of fighting head-on, the shaman had been setting traps—carefully, deliberately.

All around the entire ruins.

It had woven runes into the ground, hiding them beneath rubble, beneath shadows—each one a silent executioner waiting to be triggered.

A single step on one of them, and—boom.

The rune would activate, disrupting mana flow, and flooding its victim with immense, searing pain.

A cruel, strategic move.

But Alex wasn't worried.

It didn't matter what the gnoll did.

It was still going to die.

Just like the rest.

He took a step forward.

And Gorehowl jerked its staff into the air and let out a guttural, twisted chant.

A haunting hum.

A pulse of dark sigils rippled outward.

Then—the symbols ignited.

The ground shuddered.

And from the glowing sigils—fire erupted.

But not normal fire.

It coiled and curled, writhing like living things, twisting into shapes.

Bodies.

An animal.

Wolves.

Five massive, spectral beasts, their forms flickering with hellish flame, rose from the abyss—summoned from the depths of dark sorcery.

Their eyes burned like dying stars.

Their fangs dripped with embers.

Each wolf was nothing but charred bone and raging fire—no flesh, no fur.

Their hollow eye sockets burned with pure malice.

Then—Gorehowl moved.

A single, clawed finger rose.

Pointed.

Straight at Alex.

And as if answering a silent command—

The wolves roared.

A deafening, guttural sound that shook the battlefield.

Then, as one—they charged.

With every step, their claws dripped molten heat, sizzling against the ruined ground.

Flames trailed in their wake, scorching everything beneath them as they surged forward in a frenzied stampede.

Alex tilted his head, unfazed.

Then—his feet left the ground.

The wind bent to his will, lifting him smoothly into the air as he activated [Aerovale].

If he couldn't step on the trap he might as well fly over it.

He hovered effortlessly rising above the battlefield.

And then—

BOOM!

A shockwave erupted as Alex blasted forward, the air itself splitting from the sheer force of his acceleration.

The ground cracked beneath him, debris and dust scattering in his wake.

The spectral wolves?

They never stood a chance.

The impact alone sent them hurtling backward, their fiery forms ripped apart, dissolving into nothing but scattered embers in the wind.

And in that same instant—

Alex was in front of Gorehowl.

Too fast.

Too sudden.

The gnoll's breath hitched.

Its glowing eyes—wild, frantic—widened.

Shock.

Terror.

Panic.

Pure, primal panic.

The gnoll whirled around, claws scrabbling against the cracked earth.

It tried to run.

Tried to escape.

Its staff nearly slipped from its grasp as it stumbled.

But Alex wasn't about to let that happen.

His hand snapped forward as he used [Godhand]

An invisible force surged outward—gripping Gorehowl like an unbreakable vice.

The gnoll screeched.

Its limbs flailed.

It struggled. Desperate. Frantic.

But the grip was absolute.

And then—he yanked.

WHAM!

Gorehowl's body whipped backward, its feet leaving the ground.

The invisible force yanked it through the air—hurtling toward Alex like a helpless puppet on tangled strings.

It had no time to react.

No time to defend itself.

Then—

Alex's blades pierced upward.

SHUNK!

Straight beneath its jaw.

Straight through the skull.

The gnoll jerked violently.

Its claws twitched, flexing—as if trying to grasp at life.

Its breath hitched.

Then—

It went limp.

A wet squelch echoed through the air as Alex yanked the blades free.

Gorehowl's lifeless corpse slumped forward—then slid off the weapons, crumpling to the ground in a heap.

A flicker of light flashed across his vision.

A level-up notification.

[You have leveled up!]

[You have leveled up!]

Along with the rest of the rewards, but Alex ignored them.

He muttered, almost lazily—"Four down."

"One more to go."

Then—silence.

Just the distant crackle of embers, and the sound of Alex's breathing.

Then—

BOOM!

The ground shuddered.

The very air vibrated.

And behind him—a shadow loomed swallowing the light.

An immense pressure.

Like a mountain dropping onto his shoulders.

Alex's grin widened.

Because now—only one remained.

The one he had been waiting for.

[Beast Lord Khan - The Crimson Tyrant (Rank S)]

Alex turned.

And what met him, was an obsidian battle axe, dripping with blood.