Apocalypse Baby-Chapter 331: Promise of Ruin

Kael stood beyond the divine barrier—tall, armored, and radiating restrained fury.

His obsidian-plated armor pulsed faintly with infernal glyphs, each one thrumming with unspent violence.

Power rolled off him in waves—thick, suffocating—like standing too close to a volcanic storm.

His face, sharp and regal, wore the calm only centuries of discipline could forge.

But Alex saw through it.

Rage.

Not the wild, frothing kind.

No—this was cold. Measured. Calculated.

Alex instinctively tightened his grip on Doom Slayer, eyes narrowing as he assessed the figure.

One glance was enough.

Another demon.

Like Malik—but more composed. More potent.

Far more dangerous.

"Do you even realize what you’ve done?" Kael’s voice cut through the silence like a curse. "Malik wasn’t just a contestant. He was a prince of the Demon Realm. Our future."

The crowd gasped.

Shock rippled through the onlookers.

This was news to them.

Alex froze.

His expression barely shifted, but something behind his eyes flickered.

Malik... was royalty?

Beside him, the Proctor tensed, lips thinning.

Alex didn’t speak right away.

He processed the information as he always did—fast, clean, quiet. No one had told him anything about Malik’s lineage.

As far as he knew, Malik had just been another opponent.

A strong one, sure.

But someone he was meant to defeat.

Kill or be killed.

That had been the rule.

He glanced briefly at his sword.

The glow had faded, but the memory of the slash still lingered in the bones of his fingers.

Would he have done anything differently if he had known?

No.

Even if Malik had been a crowned heir, Alex would’ve killed him anyway.

He looked back up. His voice was calm.

"How does that change anything?" fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm

Kael’s eyes narrowed.

The Proctor stepped forward, voice low and grim. "Alex... I see you don’t understand."

"Understand what?" Alex asked.

The Proctor exhaled through his nose.

"Then let me explain. When a trial participant falls, they usually respawn—return to the realm or location they designated when they joined the Legacy Trials."

Alex nodded slowly.

He knew that much.

"But Malik’s case was different," the Proctor continued. "His soul was being corrupted—possessed by Doom Essence. In simpler terms, he was cut off. Severed from the respawn cycle."

Alex’s eyes sharpened as he put the pieces together.

"So... he’s gone. For good."

The Proctor nodded grimly. "His death here was permanent."

Alex blinked.

And suddenly, it all made sense.

The Proctor’s hesitation.

His reluctance to end the Doom Beast.

The regret in his voice when he said Alex shouldn’t have landed the final blow.

It hadn’t just been about killing a monster.

It had been about avoiding a war.

But even now... Alex didn’t feel regret.

Or guilt.

He looked back at Kael—unflinching.

Kael’s eyes darkened.

"I’ll give you one truth, human," he said coldly. "Actions have consequences. And yours just invited ruin to every last human."

He reached into his cloak and pulled out a black token etched with jagged, ancient runes.

The moment he activated it, an eerie purple flame ignited along its surface.

Behind the barrier, the air twisted.

The token unraveled, morphing into a vertical glyph of void-light.

A portal.

Kael turned back to Alex one last time.

No rage.

No yelling.

Just a quiet, terrifying promise.

"Tell your people to prepare," he said. "We will come for your world first—then continue with others filled with peasants like yourself. We will rage until the hatred in our hearts is quenched."

And with that—he stepped through the portal.

The glyph collapsed behind him like a heartbeat ending.

Alex stared at the spot Kael had vanished from, his gaze lowered, his face unreadable.

He wasn’t angry.

Or shaken.

If anything, he looked thoughtful—like he was filing the entire encounter away in some distant corner of his mind, marked for later.

The Proctor watched him for a moment, mistaking the silence for guilt.

Then he spoke.

"Don’t be mistaken. Killing Malik was the only option. He couldn’t be saved. If you hadn’t killed him, I would have. If I had ended it, nothing would have come of it. I serve a force beyond their reach."

He paused, voice lowering.

"But you... you’re a far more attainable target."

"Right," Alex muttered absently, then pointed to where Kael had stood moments ago. "By the way—who was that guy?"

The Proctor stared at him, dumbfounded. Alex wasn’t panicking. Not even close.

He finally answered.

"That was Kael. The Demon King’s general. His Blade. One of the highest-ranking entities in the Demon Realm. He’s led wars across dimensions."

Alex raised a brow.

"Oh," he said simply, then added under his breath, "Thought so. He’s strong."

The Proctor let out a short, stunned laugh—somewhere between exhaustion and disbelief.

"You’re unbelievable."

Alex offered a faint smile.

"Should I be worried?"

"...Technically, yes," the Proctor replied. "You just caught the attention of an entire realm with a historical grudge against mortals."

"Neat."

The Proctor shot him a sidelong glance.

"Don’t worry. I’ll do what I can. I’ll shield your world—they won’t find it."

Alex turned fully toward him, blinking. The offer surprised him.

The Proctor nodded.

"It was my hesitation that let this spiral out of control. If I’d finished Malik sooner, none of this would’ve happened. You took the kill because I failed."

"I wanted the kill," Alex said. "So I’m glad you did fail."

Then he added, "I don’t need protection. But if you’re offering a cosmic firewall around my planet, I’ll take it."

The Proctor froze for a moment, then chuckled, rubbing his temple.

"You’re the strangest mortal I’ve ever met."

Alex ignored the comment, eyes scanning the battlefield.

The crater was still smoldering, but the energy in the air was finally settling.

The divine portal shimmered behind him, waiting for him to step through.

But his mind was already elsewhere.

"When’s the final trial?" he asked.

The Proctor blinked. "What?"

"The last round," Alex repeated. "The one that leads to godhood. When does it begin?"

The Proctor’s smile faded.

Right.

He hadn’t concluded the tournament.

He took a breath, turned, and finally addressed the crowd.

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