Apocalypse Baby

Alex stepped forward slowly.

Each bootfall crunching over the broken remains of ice and shattered stone.

CRACK.

CRACK.

The crowd watched in silence, tension building with every step he took.

Alex's gaze never left Tharnok.

His expression was cold and focused.

Like a scientist preparing for the next phase of an experiment.

Tharnok, battered and bleeding, stood on shaky legs.

His body was a wreck—bones fractured, skin torn, blood oozing down his arms and chest—but he held himself upright through nothing but pure willpower and raw hatred.

His single working eye twitched as he watched Alex approach, every step echoing like a countdown in his ears.

Each footfall wasn't just sound—it was an insult.

It was a reminder of how outmatched he was.

Tharnok may have been talking big, but deep down, he knew the truth.

One more hit. That's all it would take.

One more, and he'd be finished.

His body couldn't take another attack like before.

He was out of options.

Unless…

Unless he could catch Alex off guard.

Make him slip. Make him mad. Then finish it with one final blow.

But that wasn't going to be easy.

Alex didn't seem like the hot-headed type.

Now they stood face to face.

Inches apart.

And Tharnok spat blood to the side with a sharp sneer.

"Is this… is this all you got, worm?"

Alex paused.

His head tilted slightly, a hint of amusement flickering in his eyes.

This guy was barely alive, and still trying to sound smug?

"Are you serious?" Alex replied, voice calm but laced with venom."You're standing on death's doorstep, and you still talk like that? What land of delusion do you come from?"

At that, Tharnok's face tensed.

Something behind his eyes shifted.

"Are you insulting my motherland?"

Alex smirked. A slow, cold grin.

"Well," he said, "I'm not exactly complimenting it, am I?"

"You show up, acting like your race is something terrifying—calling me a worm—yet here you are, breaking after taking not even half of what I can do."

He took a step closer.

"It's disappointing, really. I hope the rest of your kind isn't this fragile."

Tharnok's jaw clenched.

Then, his whole expression turned ugly—blood and rage swirling behind his eyes.

The last thread of patience in Tharnok's mind gave way—and now, all he had left was fury.

He'd planned to provoke Alex. But instead...

He was the one who lost control.

With a roar of fury, Tharnok lunged forward, swinging his arm like a blade.

A surge of emi flared around his hand, forming a sharp edge of power.It was a last-ditch attack, wild and reckless, fueled by nothing but pain, hate, and desperation.

He poured everything he had left into the strike.

But—

Before the swing could even finish its arc—

A beam of searing light exploded from Alex's eyes, hitting Tharnok like a cannon, blasting him backward with brutal force.

WHAM!

It slammed into Tharnok's chest with brutal speed, blasting him backward like he'd been hit by a cannon.

His body hit the ground hard, bouncing once before skidding across the broken arena floor.

Still, Tharnok wasn't done yet.

Adrenaline and rage surging through his veins.

Groaning, he stood up and charged forward once again.

And then Alex whispered.

"Exsanguinate."

The effect was immediate. Horrifying.

Tharnok's body jerked, then, all of a sudden, blood exploded from every wound on him.

As if invisible hands had reached inside and ripped the life from him.

Thick, crimson streams poured out from his chest, from his legs, from the gashes on his arms. Even from his mouth.

And it wasn't a slow trickle.

It was a flood.

His eyes widened—first with confusion, then with terror.

His vision blurred.

His limbs were hollow, like straw, drained and brittle.

The pain didn't matter anymore.

It was replaced by a coldness—that creeping, soul-deep chill that comes when the body realizes it's dying.

His muscles, now hollow and useless, gave out.

And with a final, shuddering breath, he collapsed to his knees.

Alex stood still, eyes slightly narrowed, as he watched the life bleed out of his opponent.

The skill hadn't lied.

Tharnok was bleeding uncontrollably.

And it wouldn't stop...Unless Alex willed it.

"What…" Tharnok snarled weakly, voice cracking.

"What did you do…?"

Alex stepped closer and crouched beside him.

His voice was low and chilling as he responded.

"Just lie down," Alex said coldly, "and let it take your life."

Tharnok coughed—a wet, rattling sound, blood bubbling between his clenched teeth.

"You… bastard…" he growled, barely able to push the words past his throat.

His face twisted in fury.

And with one last desperate snarl—He tried to lunge.

But his body didn't respond.

The blood loss was too much.

Tharnok collapsed face-first into the pool of his own blood.

Still breathing. Still conscious.

But helpless.

Dying.

The crowd froze, once again shocked by Alex's action.

Then the silence was shattered once again.

A wave of roars, cheers, gasps, and screams exploded through the arena.

People leapt to their feet.

Some yelled Alex's name.

Others were still too shocked to say anything.

They had thought it was over earlier.

When Tharnok overpowered Alex with sheer brute force.

But no one…No one saw this coming.

Not the comeback.

Not the shift in momentum.

Not the brutal elegance with which Alex tore his opponent apart.

He didn't just win. He dominated the fight.

And the terrifying part was that he made it look effortless.

High up in the VIP stands where Legacy holders watch, the legacy holders of the Blood Monarch leaned in, whispering in tight, hurried tones.

"Did you see that?"

"That was… Exsanguinate, wasn't it?"

"He's just a tutorial player, so how the hell does he have such a high-level blood-related skill?"

"Is he a new candidate?"

Their eyes were wide with confusion.

Up above, in the divine realm, the deities began to move, their intent crystal clear:

They wanted him.

A mortal with potential this massive couldn't be allowed to slip away.

Down in the arena, the spotlight stayed on Alex.

Still crouched beside Tharnok's crumpled body.

He stared at the beast he had brought to the edge of death.

Tharnok was bleeding. Broken. Barely breathing.

But he was alive.

And that fact alone was… impressive.

A lesser creature would've died a dozen times over.

Yet here he was.

Still clinging desperately to life.

Pitiful.

The crowd's noise swelled around him, a storm of praise and disbelief.

But Alex didn't hear any of it.

His focus locked on Tharnok.

Because in that moment, while the world cheered for his victory…

He was planning a robbery.

His hand hovered just above Tharnok's skin, and in his mind, he activated Mimicry, ready to steal.