Apocalypse Baby-Chapter 258: Blot the Sky

The world dulled around Alex.

The roar of the arena faded into the background—like it was underwater.

His breathing slowed. Controlled. Steady.

He was in the zone. A state of focus so sharp that time itself seemed to bend.

Tharnok couldn't see him.

Even if he could, it wouldn't matter—he was too busy fighting for his life, swatting at the barrage of beams, blades, and ice crashing down on him.

The spectators couldn't see Alex either.

He was a ghost to them—invisible, untouchable.

Only the Deities watching from above, and a few of the most powerful Legacy Holders, could track him with their gaze.

He could feel it—those piercing eyes watching his every move.

But it didn't matter.

He wasn't fighting them.

His only target… was Tharnok.

And with each strike, with every slash, blast, or elemental hit—Alex wove Emi into his attacks.

He was only able to add a whisper of Emi for now, but it was enough to lace his strikes with a disruptive force that caused greater damage to Tharnok.

The barrages tore into Tharnok's very essence, making every hit feel like it rattled his bones from the inside out.

Doing this also sparked something inside Alex—inspiration.

A thousand ideas rushed through his mind—new ways to better use his skills.

It was invigorating.

Meanwhile, Tharnok stood at the heart of the arena like a wounded beast.

Bruised. Battered. Burning.

Deep cuts streaked across his broad chest, some still bleeding.

Crimson dripped from his side, hissing as it touched the cracked stone floor—like acid eating through steel.

His breathing came in short, ragged bursts.

Chest rising and falling.

Every inhale was a fight of its own.

He spun slowly in place, body heavy from punishment, but eyes still burning with rage.

"Come out, coward!" Tharnok roared, his voice echoing through the arena like a war drum. "Fight me head-on!"

The crowd held their breath.

The air was still.

Then...

A shimmer.

A flicker, like heat rising off the ground.

And from that shimmer, Alex appeared.

He dropped Void Shroud.

His form faded into view at a distance behind Tharnok.

Floating behind Alex, poised like a silent executioner, was a sword of ice, its blade glowing pale blue.

It hovered, untouched by wind or weight, gleaming under the arena lights like a shard of frozen moonlight—ready to strike on command.

Tharnok, dazed but still roaring with rage, twisted around sharply, and the Vorakan wasn't about to wait.

"RAAARGHHH!"

Tharnok's battle cry shook the air, vibrating the very ground beneath them.

And with a thunderous charge, he launched himself at Alex, tearing across the arena like a stampede of destruction.

Dust and stone erupted under his feet, the ground cracking beneath the sheer force of his charge. His muscles swelled, fueled by rage and desperation.

But Alex simply lifted a hand.

His fingers curled slightly, and telekinetic energy rippled from him as he activated Godhand.

A massive, invisible force slammed down on Tharnok with crushing power.

And the Vorakan froze mid-step, his momentum suddenly halted.

Tharnok's eyes bulged. His muscles tensed.

The pressure was unbearable—like the weight of the entire arena had just dropped onto him.

He couldn't move forward.

He tried to fight back, pushing with every ounce of strength against the invisible force pressing down on him, but his limbs barely budged.

Tharnok gritted his teeth, disbelief coursing through his veins.

Seriously, how many powerful skills does this worm possess?

The crowd shared the same confusion.

Especially because Alex was still a tutorial player.

Tutorial players were known to have a variety of skills—most acquired from killing monsters or ranking up. But none of those skills were usually this powerful.

Sure, players could evolve their skills, but that required time and resources— which was why most focused on just a few, mastering them for their own unique playstyle.

But the human they were watching...

Alex... wasn't like the others.

He'd unleashed skill after skill—each advanced-level and immensely powerful.

Powerful enough to trouble a New Realm Elite.

And not just an Elite, but a Vorakan.

Every move Alex made seemed to push the boundaries of what was expected.

And that was insane.

But...

What Alex was about to do next was a whole new level of madness.

Alex lifted his gaze, staring at the ice sword hovering above him.

Then, with a sharp, deliberate motion, he raised his finger toward the air, touching the blade as he activated Metamass.

The ice sword above him began to shimmer, ripples running through its edges.

It trembled with raw energy—and suddenly, it exploded in size.

First ten times larger. Then twenty. Then, with a final burst, it stretched to thirty times its original length.

It was no longer a sword, but a monument of ice—nearly two hundred feet long and wide enough to blot out the moon, casting a shadow that spread across the entire arena, turning the sky dark.

The crowd watching fell into dead silence.

Every single person was frozen in shock, their jaws dropping as they stared. The sight was beyond anything they'd ever imagined could come from a human.

The ice sword now hung—massive, cold, and unforgiving—suspended above Tharnok's head.

Tharnok's eyes snapped toward the blade, his pupils dilating as disbelief flashed across his face.

Moving forward was no longer an option.

In a desperate bid to avoid the impending doom, he tried to retreat, to put distance between himself and the massive, shimmering sword.

But Alex wouldn't let him go.

He used Godhand, and in an instant, Tharnok's body was frozen in place—trapped by an invisible force.

Alex's voice then cut through like a blade, cold and calm.

"Just stay still and receive."

Tharnok's rage flared, his aura bursting to life, crackling with raw energy.

"You bastard!" he roared.

But Alex grinned darkly.

With a flick of his fingers, he commanded the massive blade to fall.

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FWOOOOOOOOSH!

The air screamed as the giant ice sword plunged from the sky, faster than anything Tharnok had ever seen.

It didn't drop—it hurtled, propelled by Alex's telekinetic power like a divine missile.

The sheer pressure split the wind, distorting the space around it.

Tharnok's eyes went wide and he screamed—

but the sound of his roar was drowned out by the whistling descent of the sword, which came down like a meteor.