Apocalypse Baby-Chapter 43: Defeat

Alex clenched his fists tighter, his knuckles cracking as he delivered another crushing blow to Murzok’s skull.

His movements were relentless, each strike faster and harder than the last.

The sound of fists meeting flesh echoed through the frozen wasteland like thunderclaps, a brutal rhythm of vengeance and fury.

Blood sprayed across Alex’s arms, painting his glowing red aura in a sickening crimson.

Shards of ice mixed with the gore, flying into the air like glass as the cockatrice’s body was pressed deeper into the shattered ground.

Alex’s muscles burned with the raw power surging through him, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop.

Murzok’s feather blades, once sharp and deadly, lay useless on the ground, forgotten.

The cockatrice king had lost his focus, his once-proud control over the battlefield shattered by the unrelenting assault.

His mind blurred, each punch driving him closer to the edge of unconsciousness.

The pain was beyond anything Murzok had ever known.

He couldn’t move.

He couldn’t scream.

Even breathing felt impossible under the crushing weight of Alex’s blows.

The agony was endless, and the fear—raw, paralyzing fear—was worse.

This wasn’t a fight anymore.

It was a nightmare, and Alex was the monster.

Every fiber of the cockatrice king’s being screamed for escape, but his body refused to respond.

He had no strength left to summon, no cunning plans to execute.

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Every ounce of power he had poured into his icy form now seemed meaningless against the raw, primal force tearing him apart.

Alex’s eyes burned with unyielding determination, his voice a low growl as he struck again and again.

"You should’ve run when you had the chance," he muttered, his words cutting through the chaos like a knife.

And then, with one final punch, Alex unleashed the full power of his [Fury Gauntlet]—its x3 special effect activating in a fiery burst of energy.

His fist slammed into Murzok’s skull with the force of a falling meteor.

BOOM!

The ground erupted beneath them, sending a shockwave rippling through the icy forest.

The earth cracked and split, ice shards and rocks exploding into the air as if the very world were breaking apart.

A gust of wind tore through the trees, bending them to its will and scattering snow like a blizzard.

The tremor spread outward, shaking the forest with a mini-earthquake.

Murzok’s body convulsed once before going completely limp.

His massive frame slumped into the crater Alex had created, blood pooling beneath him as his shattered form lay still.

Alex stepped back, his hand trembling as blood dripped down his arm and onto the frozen ground.

His chest heaved with every breath as he stared at the cockatrice king’s crumpled form, the massive creature lying in a lifeless heap.

But even as steam rose from its shattered body, Alex’s jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing.

The notification of victory hadn’t come.

That could only mean one thing: the damned bird was still alive.

"Damn it," Alex muttered through gritted teeth.

His battle-worn face twisted with frustration, and his blood-streaked fist rose once more, ready to deliver the final blow.

But then it happened.

The red glow surrounding him flickered and disappeared.

His body jolted as if struck by lightning. Titan’s Fury had run out.

All at once, the overwhelming strength he’d relied on was gone, replaced by an agonizing wave of weakness.

His knees buckled as if the weight of the world had suddenly crashed onto his shoulders.

He froze mid-action, his arm dropping limply to his side as his legs gave out beneath him.

With a choked gasp, Alex collapsed to the side, his body hitting the icy ground hard.

Pain wracked his entire frame as his muscles seized up, refusing to obey. T

he backlash of Titan’s Fury had begun.

"Ugh!" Blood spurted from his mouth, staining the frost beneath him.

He tried to push himself up, his arms trembling as he clawed at the ground.

The cold bit into his skin, but it was nothing compared to the crushing fatigue that made even breathing feel like a herculean effort.

Alex gritted his teeth, forcing his body to move.

He dragged himself forward, inch by agonizing inch, leaving a trail of blood in his wake. His arms quivered as he reached for anything to anchor himself, but his body screamed in protest.

"No... not yet..." he whispered hoarsely, his breath misting in the frigid air.

The will to fight still burned in his eyes, but his body refused to cooperate.

The drawback of Titan’s Fury was brutal.

Though Alex’s accessories and equipment still provided some passive enhancement, they weren’t enough to offset the immense loss of strength and stamina.

Every muscle in his body screamed in protest, the fatigue digging into him like claws.

His only chance to recover was Vigor Strike, but the ability came with a catch: it only worked if he kept moving.

The moment he fell to the ground, groaning from the Titan’s Fury backlash, Vigor Strike ceased to function.

Alex clenched his fists against the icy ground, his frustration boiling over.

The Titan’s Fury drawback would last 15 minutes—an eternity in the heat of battle.

This was the reason he always hesitated to use the skill. The raw power it granted came at a cost he could barely afford.

But even as his battered body betrayed him, Alex suddenly grinned.

His head tilted back, and a hoarse chuckle escaped his lips.

The sound was raspy and weak at first, but it quickly grew louder, turning into a full-blown cackle.

"What... the hell am I doing?" he muttered, shaking his head as his laughter filled the frosty air.

His ribs ached with every laugh, and his limbs felt like lead, but he couldn’t stop.

He lay sprawled on the ground, helpless and broken, yet he couldn’t help but laugh.

If the cockatrice king got back up and attacked him now, it would be over.

He couldn’t move, couldn’t defend himself, and couldn’t even crawl to safety.

Yet, somehow, he found the entire situation absurdly hilarious.

He’d thrown everything he had into that final punch—more power than he thought his body could handle.

And judging by the crater where the cockatrice had landed, it wouldn’t be getting up anytime soon.

Or so he thought.

Forcing himself to sit up, Alex gritted his teeth, his body trembling under the weight of fatigue.

He squinted through the frost and blood in his eyes, his heart sinking as he saw the cockatrice king stood before him like a zombie,

Its body was a grotesque ruin.

Blood dripped from countless wounds, pooling beneath its talons.

Its face was twisted and misshapen, chunks of flesh missing where Alex’s fists had torn through.

One of its wings hung limp at its side, broken beyond use, while the other was entirely gone.

The icy armor that once made it nearly invincible had vanished, leaving its raw, battered form exposed. It swayed on one trembling leg, its body a living testament to agony.

And yet, it stood.

Alex let out a dry laugh, his lips curling into a smirk despite the pounding in his chest.

"You’re one stubborn bird," he said, his voice raspy.

The cockatrice king staggered forward, its talons dragging across the ground. Its breaths came in ragged gasps, each one a fight for survival.

Blood bubbled in its throat as it spoke, its voice barely above a whisper.

"I... I cannot lose... not to a human."

Alex chuckled, though the sound was bitter.

"Oh, so it’s your pride keeping you standing, huh? How unfortunate..."

The cockatrice’s dull, half-lidded eyes locked onto him.

"Is... that... so..." it rasped, pausing as if every word drained what little strength it had left. "But... I’m the only one... who can move." It staggered closer, its body barely holding together, but its determination unwavering. "And I... I have enough energy... for one more sonic howl. Enough... to end this... once and for all."

"Oh, lucky for you," Alex said mockingly, a crooked grin spreading across his face. "But you don’t seem to realize something—the situation isn’t in your favor anymore."

The cockatrice king glared at him, but its weary eyes flickered with unease.

"Your new form," Alex continued, pointing a bloodied finger at the battered beast, "means the ability you used to lock down my skills? Gone. No more Mana Freeze."

The cockatrice’s eyes, half-closed with fatigue, snapped wide open. Realization dawned like a hammer striking its skull.

Alex’s smirk widened. "And, if you remember while we were brawling... I got all handsy." He clenched his fist for effect, his tone smug. "Basically, every part of you is now a bomb."

The cockatrice froze, its breath catching in its throat. It looked down at its trembling body, panic spreading like wildfire.

"Also, fun fact—I’ve got just enough Mana for one last attack. But here’s the kicker..."

He leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping to a taunting whisper.

"Would you be fast enough to hit me with your Sonic Howl before I snap?"

The cockatrice’s eyes darted wildly, panic flooding its expression. With a desperate screech, it lunged forward, its body trembling under the strain.

But before it could even get close, it’s leg exploded.

The cockatrice screamed, collapsing to the ground in a heap.

Blood sprayed across the snow as it thrashed, now completely legless. Its once-mighty form, reduced to a pathetic, flailing figure, looked almost comical—a shrieking duck stripped of its power.

"Oh, did I forget to mention?" Alex said, his tone dripping with mockery. "I don’t actually need to snap to trigger my ability."

"Damn you!" the cockatrice roared, its voice laced with pain and desperation.

It clawed at the ground, but it was hopeless.

Its strength was gone, its body broken.

Alex sighed dramatically, raising a hand as if to wave goodbye.

"And now... your end. Goodbye, Murzok."

He snapped his fingers, and the world erupted.

The explosions were everywhere—on the cockatrice’s broken body, in the forest surrounding them.

Alex had planted bombs during their fight, hidden beneath the snow and scattered among the trees before the area froze over.

Each one detonated like a mini-nuke, sending shockwaves rippling through the icy wasteland. Fire and ice mixed violently, the sky glowing with the light of the blasts.

The cacophony of destruction drowned out the cockatrice’s agonized screeches. Its body was torn apart in the inferno, leaving nothing but ash and smoke in its wake.

And in the center of it all, Alex lay flat on the ground, his body aching, his breath ragged.

He coughed, blood dribbling from his mouth, but the sound quickly turned into laughter.

Weak, hoarse laughter that grew louder and louder until it echoed across the ruined forest.

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A/N

And that’s a wrap for the Cockatrice Arc!

Next up, we’ll be shifting the perspective to the Overseer—because you know he’s got opinions about Alex’s little performance.

Oh, and get ready, because the new players are about to arrive. Let’s just say the game’s about to get a whole lot more chaotic.

Stay tuned, because things are only heating up from here.