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Apocalypse Baby-Chapter 286: Hesitant
Grugrim braced himself as Malik was closing in fast, like a storm with claws, fire, and fury.
He lifted his arm—or what was left of it, and tried to summon a defensive rune, but there was not enough time.
CRACK!
Malik's clawed fist slammed into Grugrim's side, and his bones shattered, his ribs snapping like twigs.
Grugrim flew through the air, his body ragdolling across the arena floor, dust and stone erupting with every bounce.
WHOOSH!
Before he could hit the ground, Malik was already there, teleporting in a burst of red flame. And a knee from him rocketed into Grugrim's spine.
THUD!
The impact shook the floor, and Grugrim crashed down, coughing blood, vision swimming.
He rolled over on instinct—Only to see Malik's claws descending, a blur of motion.
SLASH!
The talons tore across Grugrim's face, taking out one of his eyes.
Blood gushed, sizzling in the superheated air.
"GAAAH!!"
Grugrim's scream echoed through the shattered arena.
But Malik didn't pause.
He spun, letting out a savage, inhuman howl, and landed a roundhouse kick that exploded into Grugrim's chest, lifting him off the ground like a missile, and he shot towards the edge of the arena, stone shattering on impact.
Malik then hovered above him, his expression cold, ready to dish out the next attack.
Grugrim, buried beneath stone, clawed his way up, his one trembling, blood smearing across the broken ground.
His body was wrecked—broken in more places than he could count.His right arm was a bloodied stump, and his left eye was gone, just searing pain and darkness.
But still, he pushed himself up.Wobbling. Shaking. Bleeding.Barely standing. freёnovelkiss.com
Then Malik acted.
BANG—BANG—BANG!
A storm of flame-covered fists and clawed strikes slammed into Grugrim's body.Each hit was like getting hit by a meteor, his flesh tearing like parchment, bones cracking under the pressure.
Malik didn't stop.
SHNK!
Another slash, and one of his ears was gone.
Then—CRACK!A spinning backfist that dislocated his shoulder, sending his body twisting mid-air before crumpling to the ground again.
Grugrim was barely conscious at this point, but Malik's attacks didn't stop.
He moved on instinct now, pure rage driving his limbs.
Then—
SCHLUK!
Malik's claw drove straight into Grugrim's chest, and the impact knocked the breath from him.The hand went deep, tearing through muscle, through tendon, through everything.
And then—
RIP!
A torrent of blood followed as Malik yanked his claw out, leaving a gaping wound, the force cracking the arena floor beneath them.
Grugrim's legs gave out.
He dropped to his knees, eyes wide, gasping, broken.
The air was thick with the scent of ash and blood.
The crowd? Silent.
Not a single cheer.Not even a gasp.
Only the sickening crackle of fire and the strained sound of Grugrim's broken breathing.
In the VIP Combatant Zone, Sylen turned from the screen, his face drawn, resigned.With a sigh, he muttered:"He's done for."
Then, without another word, he walked away.
Alex, hearing this, stood frozen, fists clenched.His eyes never left the scene unfolding before him.
He knew it was over.
Malik's regeneration was monstrous.Borderline immortal.Even after being reduced to nothing but feet, he had come back stronger than before.
And Grugrim?He was out of options.Unless you obliterated Malik completely in a single, crushing blow, there was no way to win.
Alex had wanted Grugrim to win.He had hoped for it.
For a moment, it had seemed possible.For a fleeting moment, it seemed like Grugrim might actually pull through.
But that moment was long gone.
Grugrim was on his knees now, broken.Half-naked, armor shattered to pieces, his body an open map of wounds, more blood than flesh.Weapon lost.
Fighting against the inevitable.
He was a warrior—But even warriors had their limits.
And Grugrim had reached his.
Grugrim's chest heaved with every breath.
His lungs felt like they were on fire, fighting for air.
There was no power left to summon any spells.
No magic. No strength.
He was done.
And Malik knew it.
The fiery demon took a slow step forward, his wings of ember flaring out behind him like the rising flames of a furnace.
Malik's eyes glowed like molten metal, his form casting a terrifying shadow over the ruined battlefield.
He looked down at Grugrim with the kind of indifference that comes from snuffing out a flickering candle.
Grugrim was nothing but a dying ember, ready to be snuffed out completely.
Grugrim's head tilted weakly upwards.
His one good eye cracked open, but all he saw was a blur—his vision stained with blood, his world spinning in a haze.
He couldn't make out Malik's face.
But he could feel it.
The pressure.
The heat.
The inevitable.
And yet, Grugrim didn't flinch.
Didn't bow his head.
Instead, a sound escaped his lips.
A low, rasping laugh.
It rattled in his chest, more like a cough than anything else, but unmistakable.
The bruises and cuts on his face barely mattered anymore.
With a cracked voice, he spoke:
"Why'd you stop...End it?"
Malik didn't respond.
Grugrim let out a hoarse chuckle."You afraid?" he asked, voice shaky but defiant."Afraid to finish it?"
Malik froze.
His eyes, glowing with ember-like fury, flickered in the dim light.The words hit him like a slap.A challenge, bold and sharp, thrown at his feet.A man, on the brink of death, still daring to taunt him?
To question his will?
Grugrim's gaze never wavered.
Even in the face of death, his eyes held a fire that couldn't be quenched.He looked at Malik, the man who had taken everything from him—his body, his strength, his armor, his weapon.But not his pride.
Malik's eyes narrowed, a twitch in his claws.A tremor ran through his body, like something deep inside him was fighting for control.
His aura flared, crackling with heat and rage, but still, he didn't move.
Something was making Malik hesitate.
.
.
.
A/N:
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