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Apocalypse Baby-Chapter 185: Calculations
BOOM!
The explosion erupted behind him, a shockwave rippling through the battlefield. Flames roared into the sky, consuming what was left of the Grim Lord.
But Alex didn’t look back.
He walked forward with steady confidence, his silhouette outlined against the burning wreckage of the nightmare’s final boss. His heart pounded—not from fear, but from the sheer thrill of victory.
Then, the notification appeared.
[You have completed the Nightmare.]
[Reward for completing this trial will be given to you when you exit.]
[You will be teleported out soon!]
Alex grinned.
Finally. It was over.
Excitement surged through him. He couldn’t wait to get out and use all the stat points he had earned. He had fought, bled, and killed more enemies than he could count. The payoff would be massive.
Eager, he swiped open his status window, eyes scanning for the total.
Judging by the sheer number of enemies he had cut down…
It was going to be a lot.
But...
[Total Nightmare Points: Calculating...]
[Total Stat Points: Calculating...]
Alex pursed his lips, resisting the urge to sigh.
He had been eager to see the numbers—to feel that rush of satisfaction—but it seemed the system was taking its sweet time.
"Guess I’ll have to wait," he muttered, shutting the window for now.
Still, he couldn’t help but wonder.
What were Nightmare Points even for?
A special currency? A hidden reward? Something even better?
His mind drifted through the possibilities, but before he could think too deeply he heard footsteps.
Multiple sets, uneven and dragging.
Alex turned.
It was his clones.
They stood before him, battered and worn, their bodies marked with deep gashes and bruises. The aftereffects of [Titan’s Fury] had clearly hit them hard.
Yet, despite their exhaustion, they remained standing.
A smirk tugged at Alex’s lips.
He raised a hand and gave them a thumbs up.
"Good job."
The clones nodded in unison, standing tall despite their battered forms.
They were exhausted—bruised, drained, their bodies heavy from the aftermath of [Titan’s Fury]—but there was no mistaking the pride in their stance. They had fought hard. They had won.
Alex took a moment to appreciate them. These were his clones, extensions of himself, who had done exactly what he needed them to do.
Then, with a casual flick of his fingers—
They vanished.
And the moment they disappeared, it hit him.
A shockwave of knowledge surged through his mind, raw and overwhelming. Memories, experiences—every second of battle crashed into him at once.
His breath hitched.
He saw it all.
Flashes of movement, blades clashing, fists meeting flesh. The sheer force behind every attack. The weight of every dodge, every parry, every fatal strike. The effort it had taken to bring down the endless waves of enemies.
Alex’s lips curled into a grin.
His clones had bullied Varkos to death.
They hadn’t just beaten him—they had overwhelmed him, torn him apart piece by piece, refusing to let him breathe.
And the undead?
Slaughtered.
Hundreds of them.
And every kill had added all up.
That meant more stat points and nightmare points for him
Still calculating.
Alex inhaled deeply, exhaling slowly as he soaked it all in.
Then, finally, he lifted his head, his sharp gaze sweeping across the battlefield.
No monsters. No threats.
Even the massive magic barrier that had once trapped them here had faded into nothingness.
It was over.
Then he spotted them—Freya and the others.
They survived as well.
He grinned, and without hesitation, he started walking towards them.
The battlefield was eerily silent now. No more clashes, no more roars—just the sound of his footsteps, steady and unhurried.
Freya, still on the ground, let out a pained groan.
It was over.
She could hardly believe it.
From the moment this nightmare began, she had doubted she would make it out alive.
But she did.
And it was all because of Alex.
A familiar, lazy stride reached her ears.
She forced herself to sit up slightly, gritting her teeth against the pain.
Her eyes locked onto Alex as he approached.
She smiled.
It was weak and tired but genuine.
Summoning every ounce of strength, she pushed herself up, refusing to stay down.
By the time Alex reached her, she had opened her mouth—but no words came.
What could she even say?
Good job?
You did well?
What took you so long?
Great job, crazy bastard!
A flood of different thoughts raced through Freya’s mind, but none of them felt right.
Her expression twisted in confusion, and Alex noticed immediately.
He raised an eyebrow. Was she tweaking or something?
Freya suddenly exhaled sharply, pushing all the thoughts aside. In the end, she simply asked:
"Are you alright?"
Alex’s gaze flicked to the arrows lodged in her shoulder and leg.
He gave a casual shrug. "Yeah, pretty much. How about you?"
Freya let out a tired laugh, then gestured at her injuries. "Well, I’ve got an arrow in my shoulder and leg, and it hurts. So no, I’m not doing alright."
Alex smirked. "Could be worse."
"Yeah, it could. But it isn’t—thanks to you."
Alex glanced at her wounds again. "Let’s just hope you don’t bleed to death before we get sent back to the tutorial."
Freya’s eyes widened. "Please, don’t say such scary things!"
Alex grinned, then lifted his gaze past Freya’s shoulder.
His eyes landed on Ezekiel and Dorion.
But then—his grin froze.
His eyes widened.
There was someone else.
Alex’s smirk returned, slower this time. "Oh... looks like five of us made it."
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"Five?" Freya frowned, confused.
By her calculation it should be four.
She turned, and what she saw made her breath hitch.
Ezekiel and Dorion stood side by side, their bodies tense.
They weren’t alone.
They were staring down Onigi.
Freya’s heart slammed against her chest. She staggered to her feet, her voice rising: "What?! I thought he died!"
Alex watched the intense standoff, his grin never fading. "Turns out he didn’t."
Freya could only stare as the three locked eyes, their gazes sharp and unyielding.
The nightmare had ended—but the fighting didn’t seem to be over.