Apocalypse Baby-Chapter 287: Demon Baby

Malik's face twisted in a mix of rage, confusion, and something else he didn't want to admit.

He could finish it. Right here. Right now.

But… he didn't. He couldn't bring himself to.

Something held him back. Not pity. Not mercy.

Fear.

Malik's gaze dropped slightly as his memory flashed back.

That barrier.

The one Grugrim had summoned mid-fight.

The one that had turned Malik's own devastating blow back on him like a slap from fate.

A humiliating, searing reversal.

He remembered the impact. The pain.

The moment he realized he'd been outplayed.

If not for his rapid regeneration, that single move would've ended him.

He would've died at the hands of a dwarf.

Now, standing over that same dwarf, half-dead and weaponless, Malik still hesitated.

Why?

Because he didn't know if Grugrim could do it again.

The thought crawled in the back of his mind like a shadow:

What if the barrier was still active? What if this was a trap?

He'd always been the top predator in every fight. Pain and defeat were strangers to him.

But now… he'd tasted a bit of both.

And he didn't like how they felt. freeωebnovēl.c૦m

That fear, small but poisonous, made him careful.

It's why, despite his fury, despite the savage beatdown he had delivered…He still held back. Even now.

On the ground, Grugrim's one good eye twitched.

Half-kneeling, barely breathing, was confused.

He didn't understand why Malik hadn't finished him off.

Why the hesitation?

Grugrim pondered, and after a moment of thought, it clicked.

Grugrim realized exactly why Malik hadn't finished him.

He was afraid.

It was because of the magic barrier he had summoned earlier.

The counter-skill he'd used against him.

The same one he had copied, analyzing Alex's technique and adapting it into his own magic.

But the truth was...He could only use it once.

It was a miracle he even managed to copy it at all.

But Malik didn't know that.

Grugrim's cracked lips curled into a grin—blood leaking between his teeth.

Then, through a wheezing breath, he spat out the word:

"You coward."

The insult hung in the air like a spark on dry tinder.

And in the next second, Grugrim moved.

His broken hand reached into his inventory with a flick of thought—and pulled a dagger.

Malik's eyes snapped open, shocked.

Was he serious?

The half-dead dwarf was trying to fight back?

Flames surged to Malik's hands, blazing like torches.

He raised one arm, ready to end it right there—burn Grugrim into ash—

But then… he saw that face.

That grin.

That same cursed, mocking grin Grugrim had worn before…Before he nearly killed him.

Malik's fire wavered.

Doubt crept in.

Was this another trap?

Another barrier counter, waiting to flip his attack back in his face?

That moment—just a second of hesitation—was all Grugrim needed.

He pushed forward, dragging his battered body across the short distance between them.

He got close.

But Malik, even with fear clouding his mind, wasn't sloppy.

With a furious snarl, he unleashed his counter:

FWASH!

Flaming tendrils burst from his back like serpents, crackling and lashing through the air.

One of them smashed into Grugrim's arm—hard.

CRACK!

And the dagger flew from his grip, spinning through the air and vanishing into the distance.

Then came the real hit.

Malik's body glowed red-hot, and with a burst of strength, he spun—

WHAM!

A flaming kick exploded into Grugrim's gut, sending him flying like a cannonball across the scorched battlefield.

Grugrim crashed hard, rolling across the dirt. Dust and smoke billowed around his broken form. He lay there, twitching, steam rising from his body like a burned-out engine.

And then… he began laugh.

At first, it was low and broken—more like a wheeze than a laugh.But it grew. Slowly. Sharply.

A raspy, full-bodied chuckle that echoed through the wrecked arena.

Cough!

Blood sprayed from his lips.

Grugrim sat up just a little, leaning on one trembling elbow.

His head turned, and through one swollen, half-closed eye, he looked straight at Malik.

And smirked.

"Look at you," Grugrim rasped, voice hoarse but defiant.

"A demon scared of a little pain. You act like a baby."

Malik's jaw locked tight.

His fists curled, flames sparking from his knuckles.

He wanted to kill the dwarf—right now.

But something held him back.

That voice in the back of his head, warning him—"He's baiting you."

Grugrim let out a tired sigh.

Slowly, he pushed himself up with a grunt, staggering to his feet like a man dragging mountains.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, leaving a thick smear of red streaked across his beard.

He had no strength left to stand, let alone fight.

And still, Malik wasn't attacking.

So he spoke the truth.

To end this already.

He'd done enough.

He just wanted to go back home and take a nap.

He had found the owner of the sword and had acquired knowledge that his people would find useful, and that was enough.

So he muttered, barely above a whisper.

"Seriously, demon…You really think I can keep reflecting your attacks forever?"

Malik's eyes narrowed.

Grugrim raised a single, shaking finger—A gesture that took a lot of effort.

"One time," Grugrim said.

"One. That's all I had .It's a copied skill. Not mine."

His voice cracked with exhaustion.

"I barely had time to etch it into my barrier before this fight started."

Malik's expression didn't change at first.

But his brow furrowed, tight. Focused.

Was he telling the truth?

He wanted to believe it.

But the idea that this beaten dwarf could be tricking him again lingered.

"You're bluffing," Malik growled, voice low and suspicious.

Grugrim barked out a rough laugh—short and sharp—before it twisted into a violent coughing fit.

Blood spattered the dirt.

"No bluff," he wheezed, wiping his mouth. "That was it. I can't do it again. You could rip me apart right now, and there's nothing I could do about it."

He leaned forward slightly, eyes narrowing with raw defiance.

His voice came out cracked, but sharp as ever.

"Seriously, I can't believe I'm begging you to kill me... because you're afraid."

Malik didn't reply.

He just stood there—silent, unmoving—flames softly rippling around his feet like lazy waves licking the shore.

"No way!"

Grugrim suddenly shouted, his voice filled with disbelief.

"Are you really a baby?"