"Boss!!"
The team cried out with horror as the fireballs swallowed Malik's body. They had all seen it—his HP bar clinging to 25%, and from the sluggish way he moved, it was clear...
He was out of energy.
The look on their faces, their frozen countenance—every fiber of their being screamed disbelief. The Boss monster… was far more terrifying than they'd imagined.
"We were so greedy..." Tipa muttered, guilt hitting like a sledgehammer. "We took all the healing potions and left none for him." The memory of the potion-sharing flashed through his mind, stinging like salt on a wound.
As if hearing the death bell, everyone's face dimmed—until Kenny's eyes lit up like twin torches in the dark.
"Man like Malik... the name is still there."
Without hesitation, they all yanked up their party interface—and truly, his name still shone at the top.
"His HP... it's back to full?" Big Nurse's voice cracked as his whole body shuddered in disbelief.
**
Meanwhile, on the battlefield…
Gorthok turned his back to leave, his victory all but sealed—when it hit him.
Danger.
It crept through the air like smoke from hellfire. All five of his senses erupted in warning.
Without delay, he conjured another fireball and hurled it toward the void—but it was too late.
A black hand tore through the air like a ghost from the abyss, punching the fireball back at him with brute force. Gorthok swayed left to dodge his own spell, but before he could regain balance, a fist smashed against his chin like a hammer of judgment, lifting him clean off the ground—his bulky form sent flying yards away.
-300 -300
The red damage numbers floated above his head like curses.
The figure emerged from the void.
His body was cloaked in silence, but his aura roared—unstable, untamed, and drenched in fury. Malik's eyes blazed with madness, each step he took toward the Infernal Feral King was like thunder echoing through the lair.
"You… how are you still alive?" Gorthok gasped, stunned. He recognized that kind of attack—but never expected the boy to survive it, much less walk out stronger. His HP bar almost full again? Unbelievable.
Malik said nothing. His rage didn't have room for dialogue.
A Cultivator... weak? Not even in death.
With a single burst, he lunged forward, fist drawn, aiming straight for Gorthok's lower abdomen. The Infernal Feral King responded instantly, conjuring a massive fireball and launching it at Malik.
Malik didn't dodge.
He met it head-on—his iron fist clashing against the searing orb like steel crashing against a furnace. The fireball blasted back into Gorthok's chest, detonating with a guttural roar.
-1500
Malik's own HP dropped in return—but he stood tall.
Even Gorthok had to pause. A Level 4 player… punched back a high-tier fireball?
He had never imagined it.
What he didn't know... was that Malik's breakthrough had sky-rocketed his stats. His attack power was no longer something that could be ignored.
"You've completely enraged me this time!" Gorthok bellowed, his voice rumbling through the lair as his arms twisted and transformed—two massive blades bursting from his flesh. They glowed deep crimson, like weapons forged in hell's heart.
He charged.
Malik responded in kind.
"RENDING CLAW STRIKE!!" Malik roared.
Six thick black lines etched themselves across the sky, descending like divine punishment. But Gorthok raised his bladed arms and shredded them into nothing but shadows.
It was a feint.
Malik vanished—stealth mode—and reappeared overhead with a brutal punch that twisted Gorthok's head sideways, followed by a sweeping kick that flipped the monster and slammed him into the ground.
The beast scrambled to his feet, but he had already lost another 3% HP. He roared and lunged—
—just as Malik heard the ringing of notifications in his head.
> <
> <
> <
"Yes." Malik replied, eyes burning as Gorthok's blades fell toward him like guillotines.
Then—shink!—three sharp blades shot out from Malik's knuckles. They gleamed, long and curved, jutting from both fists like the fangs of a demon.
"This is…" Malik whispered, barely catching his breath before crossing his arms to block.
Clang!
No damage.
The Feral Gloves had parried the infernal blades perfectly.
"Man like Malik… you've truly broadened my horizon," Gorthok muttered, face stoic but voice tinged with awe. "To think you had this many tricks up your sleeves."
"Trick?" Malik's voice rose like a war-drum. "You call this a trick?"
He growled, fury boiling over.
"Then what do you call taunting a weakened opponent? Forcing someone to quit before the fight's over? Calling someone a weakling—but never to their face? That's what you are... you vile beast!"
His roar cracked the air like lightning. Even from a distance, the team felt the pressure rise.
Malik shoved Gorthok's blades aside and vanished—stealth mode—only to reappear behind the boss, slashing at his legs with his feral blades. Again and again, he struck, dodged, vanished, then returned—bleeding the boss like a hundred paper cuts.
"Rending Claw Strike!"
He infused his spiritual energy into the blades. They darkened. Then—slash slash slash!—twenty arcs of light exploded out of them, slicing across Gorthok's body. The monster tried to block, but it was futile.
Gorthok's HP dropped to 20%.
He dropped to his knees. His transformed arms reverted to normal. His eyes turned pitch black.
And then... the world shook.
Meteors rained from the ceiling. The very ground cracked open—and from the lake of lava, they rose.
Reinforcements.
> [Infernal Feral Knight] [Lv13]
HP: 10,000
> [Infernal Feral Crawler] [Lv12]
HP: 6,000
> [Infernal Feral Rat] [Lv10]
HP: 4,000
Twenty monsters in total, all surging toward Malik like a tidal wave of chaos.
A frown formed on his face. If he left Gorthok now, the berserk monster would recover his HP in seconds. But he couldn't ignore the swarm—especially the two Knights.
"Now... define what a trick really is." Malik said coldly.
A smirk danced on Gorthok's lips.
"This is no trick. This... is a trump card." He pointed at Malik.
Suddenly, every monster's aggro locked onto Malik.
"And you..." Gorthok chuckled darkly. "You've used up all your trump cards. Just wait. Your death is coming."
The Infernal Knights rushed forward, sabers glowing with a fiery gleam. Malik clenched his fists, ready to block.
But then—crash!
Icicles rained from above, freezing the Knights mid-charge.
Malik's eyes widened as he turned around—
His team stood behind him, weapons drawn, flames and frost swirling around them.
"Boss," they said with fire in their voices, "leave the small fries to us."
And at that moment, all the rage in Malik eyes died out leaving behind nothing but calmness.