Apocalypse Baby-Chapter 162: Clone Show
Alex clenched his jaw.
The Grim Lords defense was starting to piss him off.
Before he could think of another plan—
CLANG!
The Grim Lord drove both of its massive blades into the ground.
A deep rumble followed.
The battlefield shook.
Then—lava.
It spread out like twisting vines, glowing veins of molten fire crawling across the ground.
And from within the molten depths, figures began to rise.
Undead knights.
Their bodies were charred black, their armor searing hot, their weapons dripping with molten embers.
One by one, they stepped forward, their empty eyes glowing with a burning rage.
Alex’s expression darkened as he lowered his hand.
He wasn’t worried about the undead knights.
He was worried about the Grim Lord.
As long as the monster remained standing, this battle would never end.
But there was a problem.
If he couldn’t land a hit, how was he supposed to win?
Meanwhile
BOOM!
His clones had already engaged the army of undead monsters.
Swords clashed.
Explosions erupted.
Creatures shrieked as they were cut down.
Away from the original Alex and the final boss, his clones fought like a team of seasoned adventurers, each wielding weapons from his personal arsenal.
Since [Multiplicity] couldn’t duplicate weapons, they each geared up with the real ones stored in Alex’s inventory.
One clone stood tall, clad in [Spectral Warden Armor], the high-end armor Alex had specifically purchased to fight the Cockatrice King.
It wielded a massive axe, one it had ripped from the hands of a giant undead.
BOOM!
The clone charged forward, meeting the horde head-on like an unstoppable juggernaut. Continue reading on novelbuddy
Axe swinging.
Feet stomping.
With each brutal strike, monsters were split in half, their bones scattering across the battlefield.
Another clone, armed with [Eclipse Edge]—Alex’s very first weapon—moved like a storm through the undead.
SLASH!
The sword tore through rotting flesh and brittle bones in elegant, sweeping motions.
Three undead creatures lunged at it from different directions.
But the clone didn’t panic.
It activated [Petrify].
A dull glow pulsed from its eyes.
CRACK!
The three monsters froze mid-motion, their bodies stiff as stone.
Then...
SHING!
A single, precise swing split them clean in half.
Meanwhile, a third clone used [Stealth Walk], its form blurring into the darkness.
Equipped with [Shadow Fangs], it silently maneuvered through the battlefield, targeting the undead that hadn’t even noticed its presence.
Then, like a phantom, it struck.
A blur of flashing blades.
An explosion of severed limbs.
By the time the monsters realized what had happened, it was already too late—their bodies crumbling to the ground.
The fourth clone, wearing [Fury Gauntlets], rings that boosted strength, faced down a lava-coated undead.
The fiery creature raised a molten hand, hurling a wave of scorching lava straight at it.
But the clone was faster.
WHOOSH!
It sidestepped in an instant, appearing at the monster’s side.
Then...
BAM!
A powerful punch collided with the undead’s ribs.
The force was devastating.
The monster was blasted off its feet, slamming into a pile of its own allies.
But the clone wasn’t finished.
It turned its sights to an Undead Titan towering over the battlefield.
The colossal creature swung a massive fist, trying to swat the clone away.
But before the blow could land the clone leaped into the air.
Fists clenched.
A trail of wind followed its movement.
Then...
BOOM!
A single, earth-shattering punch tore the titan’s head from its shoulders.
The gigantic body lurched, then collapsed with a thunderous crash, flattening the smaller undead beneath it.
Dust and debris filled the battlefield.
The last clone stood behind the others, gripping a staff with both hands.
It wasn’t just any staff.
This was the [Staff of Power], a relic Alex had looted from the Cockatrice Cave.
A weapon that boosted magic by 30%.
Its purpose in battle? Pure destruction.
With a steady stance, the clone raised the staff high, raw energy channeling into his body
FWOOOSH!
A wave of black flames erupted from Alex’s hands, sweeping across the battlefield and engulfing the undead in dark, searing fire.
The creatures shrieked and writhed, their bodies turning to ash as the flames devoured them whole.
Some monsters, unfazed by fire, tried to break through the defenses, charging straight for the mage clone.
But it was ready.
The clone opened its mouth and used [Sonic Howl]
A deafening shockwave blasted from its lungs, hitting the incoming undead with brutal force.
CRACK!
Bones snapped.
The sheer impact sent them flying backward, crashing into their allies.
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Still despite the sheer power of Alex’s clones…
They weren’t enough to stop the entire horde.
Some undead slipped past, heading toward the other players.
Freya stood frozen, her jaw slackened in shock.
The battle before her was beyond anything she had ever witnessed.
Especially the fight between Alex and the Grim Lord.
Every undead that dared approach him was obliterated instantly.
The sheer intensity of his movements, the precision of his strikes, and the unstoppable power behind his attacks sent chills down her spine.
But what truly shook her: were his clones.
Though they were vastly outnumbered, they were holding their ground.
Dominating.
Each one fought with a different weapon, a different style.
How many weapons did Alex even have?! How many skills did he possess?!
Freya’s hands tightened around her own weapon.
But no matter how hard they fought—they couldn’t stop them all.
Some of the undead slipped past the clones, their rotting forms moving with terrifying speed.
And they were coming straight for her.
Freya’s breath hitched.
Her fingers tightened around her weapon, but her palms were slick with sweat.
No matter how many battles she had fought, facing monsters like these was always terrifying.
Their feral eyes glowed with hunger, twisted grins stretching across their grotesque faces.
Their jagged claws clicked against the ground as they advanced.
Her heart pounded.
She hated this.
Her mind screamed at her to run but she wasn’t going to.
She wondered if she would have even made it this far without Alex.
And the answer was a resounding No.
She would have died in the first trial of Baranaga if not for his intervention.
And now, he was up there, fighting the Grim Lord alone.
She was going to fight too. Even if it was her last.
A sudden presence then appeared beside her, snapping her out of her spiral.
Freya turned her head.
Ezekiel.
He stood rigid, gripping his weapon tight.
His sharp eyes were locked onto the incoming undead.
His expression was serious, unreadable.
Neither of them spoke.
They didn’t need to.
It didn’t matter what they thought of each other.
Right now, they had a common enemy.
And their lives were on the line.
