Apocalypse Baby

Alex raised his hand—

But before he could strike, a wave of dark energy came streaking toward him, cutting through the air like a barrage of bullets.

His eyes flicked toward the source.

Gorehowl.

From a distance, the war shaman stood tall, its jagged staff crackling with void energy.

It snarled—then hurled more.

One. Two. Three.

A relentless flood of screaming black orbs, each one pulsating with raw destruction, raced toward Alex.

But—

FWOOM.

Alex's barrier flared to life.

One after another, the void energy vanished into nothingness, consumed by the power surrounding him.

Then—He willed it.

The barrier twisted. Warped.

Reversed.

All that stolen power—every ounce of it—turned against its master.

A storm of pure death erupted from Alex, roaring back toward Gorehowl at blinding speed.

Gorehowl's glowing eyes widened.

It twisted its body, desperately trying to dodge.

BOOM!

BOOM!

BOOM!

But the orb slammed straight into its chest.

The impact sent the gnoll hurtling backward, its body flipping and tumbling across the battlefield. Its robes ignited, burning away in tattered, smoking strips.

A ragged, guttural snarl of pain tore from its throat.

But Alex didn't even spare it a glance.

His focus shifted back to Snarltooth.

Snarltooth clutched at the bloody stump where its arm used to be, its entire body trembling.

Its breathing hitched, its mind finally catching up to what had happened.

It had lost an arm.

Then—A scream.

Raw. Piercing. Filled with agony.

Alex winced.

"Loud."

He muttered, covering his ears with a slight grimace.

Then, without hesitation, he raised his hand.

This moment?

Planned.

He had set an explosion disk on it, the moment the three Warbringers had arrived—the second he spotted Snarltooth lurking close to him in stealth.

A safety measure. A death sentence.

And now?

It was time.

Behind Snarltooth, Doomcrusher stirred.

The massive juggernaut rose to its feet, its armored form creaking, embers still smoldering across its scorched body.

The black flames continued to lick at its flesh, peeling away charred layers.

But the gnoll didn't stop.

It simply picked up its weapon.

A giant axe in one hand. A towering greatsword in the other.

And with slow, deliberate steps—Doomcrusher began to move.

Alex narrowed his eyes.

This was oerfect.

The explosion would take care of both of them.

So—

Alex snapped his fingers.

And Snarltooth detonated.

BOOM!

A violent eruption of black mist and raw energy tore through the battlefield—like a miniature nuke going off at ground zero.

The blast ripped through the air, a shockwave rolling outward in an unstoppable surge. Stone shattered. The ground cracked apart. A cyclone of dust and ash billowed high into the sky, swallowing everything in its wake.

And Doomcrusher?

The juggernaut never even saw it coming.

Still advancing. Still burning.

And then—gone.

Consumed by the hellish inferno.

Then—

A notification flickered into Alex's vision.

Ding!

[You have killed Warbringer Snarltooth – The Shadow Stalker.]

[You have leveled up!]

[You have leveled up!]

[You have leveled up!]

[You have received 15 stat 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]

Alex barely reacted.

Stats? Power stones? Meh.

The rewards didn't excite him anymore.

What he really wanted was skills.

But the system wasn't handing them out for just any kill anymore. The easy days of racking up skills were long gone.

If he wanted something special—he'd have to take down the Beast Lord.

And he was hellasure that whatever skill he'd get from that fight…

Would be on a whole other level.

Alex exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders.

His gaze flicked to the corner of his vision.

His level had now climbed to 62.

Then—

Another notification blinked into existence.

[You have reached Level 60.]

[You now have the option of choosing a new skill.]

Alex paused.

Then blinked.

Oh. Right.

He'd almost forgotten about that.

His fingers twitched slightly as he glanced at the notification.

This made two.

Two skills he still had to pick.

One from when he hit Level 50—his leap into C-Rank.

And now, this one.

Two skills.

Two potential S-Rank abilities.

Now that was something worth looking forward to.

His lips curled into a grin.

"Nice."

He chuckled to himself, rolling his shoulders, feeling the tension ease.

This was just the beginning.

Once he took down the Beast Lord?

Even more skills. Even more power.

And he had no intention of settling for less—every single one of them was going to reach S-Rank.

But—

His grin faded as his attention snapped back to the aftermath of the explosion.

The dust was still settling, black smoke twisting in the air.

He had gotten a notification he had killed the Warbringer Snarltooth.

But—

Where was the second notification?

His eyes narrowed.

That meant only one thing...

The stubborn gnoll still hadn't died.

FWOOOSH!

A burning figure shot out of the smoke and wreckage like a comet of death.

Doomcrusher.

Wow!

Alex's smile widened. He had to give the damn thing some credit.

The gnoll was barely recognizable—its once-mighty form reduced to a charred, skeletal husk. Patches of meat clung stubbornly to its bones, peeling away in thick, dripping chunks, oozing down like melted wax.

Flames still clung to its body, flickering inside its hollow eye sockets, turning it into a walking corpse.

Yet—it still stood.

It still moved.

Alex tilted his head, taking in the towering, smoldering monstrosity that had once been Doomcrusher.

"Well… this is nostalgic."

The way the flames devoured its flesh—merciless, insatiable.

The way its bones peeked through charred sinew, glistening wet under the firelight.

It reminded him of something.

The undead horrors from the nightmare.

But Alex wasn't just here to watch.

No.

He wanted to test something out.

A skill he hadn't used before.

A skill that had evolved into something greater.

[Spectral Barrage]

He activated it.

A cold, ghostly aura erupted around him, coiling like mist, swirling with unnatural energy. The air crackled with an eerie hum, vibrating with the weight of power.

Then—daggers appeared.

Not just a few.

Dozens.

They materialized from the void, flickering into existence like ghosts, floating, shimmering, vibrating with lethal intent.

Each one was translucent, forged from pure spectral energy, their razor-sharp edges distorting the air around them. A faint, eerie hum filled the battlefield—the sound of death waiting to strike.

They hovered around Alex, orbiting him like a storm of blades, restless, hungry.

Alex raised a single finger.

The daggers snapped to attention.

Then, as if obeying an unseen force—they rotated, their tips angling downward, all locked onto Doomcrusher's burning, skeletal frame.

The execution was set.

Then with a flick of his wrist.

The daggers moved.

A heartbeat later—they fell.

Like a lethal storm, they rained down in a relentless barrage.

SHNK!

SHNK!

SHNK!

Each spectral blade sank deep into the gnoll's charred body.

Ripping through.

Splintering bone.

The sheer force of the assault made the massive beast jerk violently, its burnt, skeletal frame convulsing under the relentless onslaught.

Yet—it did not fall.

It kept moving.

Doomcrusher, the undying brute, staggered forward.

Its eyes—if they could still be called that—burned with a sick, unyielding fury.