Apocalypse Baby

The Cockatrice's defensive reflexes had saved it from the worst of the attack—this time.

"Here, have another!"

Alex tossed another [Blastshard] toward the Cockatrice, but the it leaped back, quickly shielding itself with a fan of its feathers.

Alex smirked:

"You keep burning through those feathers. Aren't you worried you'll lose your beautiful quill?"

The Cockatrice snarled, feathers bristling in anger:

"Enough with the taunting coward! Show yourself!"

"I will! Just don't rush me...I'm shy."

The Cockatrice's face contorted in fury, but it forced itself to stay focused on escaping.

It made a break for the nearest opening, but the ground exploded, sending it stumbling back.

Desperate, it pivoted in the opposite direction, only to be forced to shield itself again as another trap detonated nearby.

Realization dawned on the Cockatrice general:

Alex had created a minefield around him, each direction rigged to explode on his command.

Every move was a step closer to getting blown apart. He was completely trapped, with no way to escape this deadly maze of traps.

But if this was the end, the Cockatrice was determined to make Alex go down with him.

The Cockatrice general lifted its beak to the sky and let out a piercing, ear-splitting screech, its throat vibrating with an unnatural, grating sound.

Alex winced, covering his ears as the sound made his head throb.

But he noticed something strange—the Cockatrice's feather blades had stopped mid-air, frozen in place.

Seeing his chance, Alex darted forward, equipping the Goblin Blade.

In a swift, powerful strike, he slashed across the Cockatrice's neck, silencing its scream.

"Ughh—!"

The Cockatrice staggered back, blood oozing from the wound on its neck, its once-commanding presence faltering.

With a feeble attempt to regain control, it commanded its feather blades toward Alex, but they drifted slowly and haphazardly.

Alex dodged and parried them effortlessly, inching closer with each step.

The Cockatrice swung a desperate swipe of its feathers, but Alex sidestepped and slapped an explosive charge onto its back, the force knocking it off balance.

He didn't let up, driving his blade into its side, only to be met with another frantic swing.

Alex evaded, landing another explosive tap and stab, then another, and another.

Each strike left deep, unhealing wounds, overwhelming the Cockatrice's regeneration. It was no longer healing—its strength drained with every relentless blow.

The Cockatrice sagged, feathers dulling, its powerful screeches reduced to ragged breaths.

The Cockatrice groaned weakly, stumbling backward, but Alex closed in and grabbed the beast by the back of its head, pulling its face close to his.

With a low voice, he whispered:

"Tell me… how does it feel to be the hunted?"

The Cockatrice's only response was a feeble moan of pain, too weak to answer.

Alex released his grip and took a few steps back, eyeing the creature covered in bombs he'd attached earlier:

"One last question. Would you rather go in a single hit or… in multiple, slow blows?"

The cockatrice gave a strained groan, too beaten to even understand, but Alex raised an eyebrow mockingly:

"What's that? I think you said… multiple blows."

It managed a hoarse, broken:

"You… bastard…"

Alex grinned, snapped his fingers, and set off one of the bombs.

A massive explosion rocked the clearing, ripping a chunk of flesh from the Cockatrice.

It collapsed to the ground, its body torn and struggling, but it was still alive.

Its regenerative powers worked sluggishly, trying to heal the wounds.

Alex waited, watching as the Cockatrice's wounds slowly stitched back together.

The moment it was almost fully healed, he snapped his fingers and another explosion erupted, shredding its flesh all over again.

The Cockatrice writhed in agony, only for its healing to kick in once more.

When it had almost fully recovered, Alex snapped his fingers again, triggering another blast.

This brutal pattern repeated, each explosion tearing the Cockatrice apart just as it was beginning to regenerate.

Finally, the sun began to rise, casting its first light on the battlefield.

Alex stood with his hands in his pockets, shadows of the long night retreating behind him.

He looked down at the Cockatrice with an unreadable expression:

"I guess it's time I finished this."

The Cockatrice general lay on the ground, barely recognizable.

Its wings were nothing more than tattered stumps, its legs blown off, and its once-proud face was charred and cracked.

Alex's repeated blasts had reduced it to a grotesque shadow of its former self, but its cursed regeneration still forced it to cling to life.

The Cockatrice let out a weak, hoarse groan, its voice barely audible:

"This... this isn't over…"

Alex raised his hand, fingers poised to snap one last time. His voice was cold, steely:

"But for you, it is."

*Snap.*

A final explosion detonated, and the Cockatrice's head shattered in a blast, ending it in a violent flash.

Alex stared at the smoking remains, his eyes emotionless, as the system notifications rang in his mind:

[You have killed a Cockatrice General.]

[You have leveled up.]

[You have leveled up.]

[You have received 10 stat points]

[You have received +10 Powerstones.]

[You have received Skill: Minor Regeneration.]

Ding!

[Apocalypse Baby Taking Effect]

[You have received 10 stat points]

[You have received +10 Powerstones.]

[You have received Accessory: Glider Cloak.]

Alex exhaled in relief, letting the first rays of the morning sun wash over him.

The once-dark forest around him was scorched from his relentless explosions, charred trees smoldering and ash drifting in the dawn air.

Yet, as he stood catching his breath, he noticed something strange—the forest seemed to be slowly restoring itself, as though it were alive, healing in response to the battle's destruction.

Watching was rather therapeutic, easing his mind.

But Alex couldn't help but worry about one thing though:

The cockatrice's ear-grating scream.

The creature had been able to continue fighting, yet it had stopped, throwing its defenses aside to let out that screech.

Alex rubbed his chin thoughtfully wondering aloud:

"Why would it do that?"

Suddenly, he got his answer.

A deep, rhythmic thumping filled the air, like something huge flapping its wings overhead.

Alex's eyes darted upward, feeling an unmistakable sense that something was coming. And it was heading straight for him.

His instincts screamed for him to move, to run—but his legs refused to respond.

His body felt like it was shackled in invisible weights, each muscle locked in place.

A cold sensation ran down his spine as a notification flashed across his view:

[You have been hit with a movement restriction skill by an enemy.]

[You cannot move for 10 seconds.]

Alex's eyes widened in disbelief:

"You've got to be kidding me…"

He could feel the approaching presence closing in, heavy and powerful.

Whoever—or whatever—was coming wasn't here to talk.

Alex forced himself to look up, heart pounding in his chest. What he saw made his blood run cold.

'Who said cockatrices couldn't fly?'

Boom!

The massive cockatrice descended from the sky, landing in front of Alex with a thunderous thud.

The force of the impact shook the ground, sending a shockwave that knocked Alex off balance.

As the beast screeched, a chilling sound that echoed through the forest, Alex felt a jolt of fear shoot through him.

Sweat dripped down his forehead as he quaked, his body trembling from a mix of adrenaline and dread.

He gritted his teeth, frustration boiling over:

"Seriously… this is too much. You stupid overseer! How am I supposed to defeat this?"

Just then, a notification flashed before his eyes, cutting through his panic:

Ding!

[Tyrant Of Talons]

[Cockatrice King 'Morvok' - Rank C]