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13 The Scion's Warning
publish date:
2026-04-18 02:41:46
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My Alpha is a Lunatic 48 The Debt and the Distortion
My fingers trace the lines of my palm in the dim light. If my theory is right—if I’m not a rookie but a memory-wiped veteran—then what the hell was my Class Ability? I’ve lost everything. The one tool every player relies on, the core of their power, is just… gone. A complete reset.I shake my head, pushing the frustrating void aside. It’s just a guess. I need proof, not phantom memories.Across the small space, Marcus finally stops chugging. He’s drained five, maybe six C-grade Healing Potions. Color returns to his face, and the ragged tension in his shoulders eases. That near-death paralysis is a special kind of hell. I know.“Thank you,” he rasps, voice steadier. “Consider those an advance. When we get out of this Instance, I’ll repay you properly.” He reaches into his inventory again and pulls out another five vials of the same shimmering liquid, offering them to me.I don’t hesitate. My fingers close around the cool glass. “Don’t mention it. Next time you need a hand and have paym
My Alpha is a Lunatic 47 The Rookie Who Wasn't
The scent of blood in my hut was thick enough to taste. Moonlight cut through the gaps in the wall, painting stripes across Marcus Stone’s pale, sweating face. He’d just finished gulping down his third healing potion, the empty vials clinking on the dirt floor.I watched, arms crossed. The potion was a lower grade than the one Liam had given me, a murky green instead of crystalline blue. But still. Each one cost a fortune in System Points. He was chugging them like water.“The Instance isn’t over,” I said, my voice flat in the heavy air. “You’re burning through your supply. Saving none for later?”Marcus managed a weak, pained laugh. “No need. I’ve got plenty. Gotta get back on my feet now, or ‘later’ won’t matter.” He wiped his mouth with the back of a trembling hand. “Don’t worry. I’ll hook you up with some too.”Ah. So he wasn’t just a veteran. He was a wealthy veteran. Points to burn, artifacts to spare. The kind of player whose confidence was bought and paid for.A flicker of env
My Alpha is a Lunatic 46 The Wounded in My Room
The path ahead finally brightened, the oppressive void dissolving into the familiar, humid air of the jungle’s edge. The candle in my hand sputtered and died, its wax cool against my skin.I looked at the stub, less than a third left. A damn shame. A good artifact, but a finite one. Every use brought me closer to losing it. I tucked the remnant away, the loss a quiet sting.We were out. Behind us, the bone-path lay quiet and still, looking utterly, deceptively normal under the moonlight.“We’re out,” Spark breathed, the tension sloughing off her shoulders. “I thought we were trapped there forever.” She looked like she wanted to collapse.I didn’t answer. My eyes scanned the perimeter. Night had fallen here, too. I’d half-hoped the darkness in that pocket dimension was just an illusion, or that time moved differently. No such luck. The island’s real night was here, thick and hungry.“Don’t celebrate yet,” I said, my voice cutting through her relief. “Move. Get to your huts. This place
My Alpha is a Lunatic 45 The Candle's Path
We didn’t move. Panic was a luxury we couldn’t afford. Liam pulled a small device from his jacket—a compass, maybe—but the needle inside spun wildly, a frantic, useless dance. He cursed under his breath and shoved it back.That’s when the singing started.It wove through the absolute dark, a low, melodic hum that raised every hair on my arms. It was beautiful, in a way that made my skin crawl.“The song,” I said, my voice low. “It’s wrong. Be ready.”Liam and Spark nodded, their faces grim in the non-light. We’d all heard the stories. The island’s night-song. No one ever said what happened if you listened, but in the Game, nothing beautiful comes without a price.We stood back-to-back, a tense triangle in the void. The song grew louder, wrapping around us.And then… it wasn’t terrifying anymore. A wave of pure, soothing warmth washed through me. The deep ache in my muscles from using the Primal Force faded. The gnawing hunger quieted. It felt like sinking into a hot bath after a marat
My Alpha is a Lunatic 44 Fists of Fury and Vanishing Paths
The power that surged up my arm wasn't a thought. It was a reflex, a deep, forgotten instinct screaming to be used. As the idol’s stone head loomed, I didn'tt swing my fist. I unleashed the coiled thing inside me.My knuckles connected with the center of its grotesque face. Not with a crack, but with a deep, resonant BOOM that felt like the world itself had been struck.The recoil was brutal. It tore me from the statue’s side and hurled me through the air. I hit the bone-littered ground hard, skidding, the breath knocked from my lungs. But my eyes were locked on the point of impact.The stone head didn’t just crack. It exploded. Fractures spider-webbed out from my fist-print at a sickening, impossible speed, consuming the entire side of the idol in a heartbeat. The stone limbs connected to that half shattered in a chain reaction, crumbling into gravel and dust.Spark, who had been trapped in their grasp a second before, dropped to the ground in a heap of torn clothes and stunned silen
My Alpha is a Lunatic 43 The Idol of Bone
A-grade healing potion. The real deal.Spark’s eyes went wide. In the Game, you lived and died by your supplies. Every player stocked healing items—for injuries, for exhaustion, for that one desperate chance to survive. The C-grade sludge she’d choked down earlier was her usual budget option. What Liam had just handed her was liquid gold.This was top-shelf. The kind of potion that cost more points than she made in a dozen Instances. The kind normal players could only dream of.Her excitement flickered, replaced by a cold, sinking dread. She looked at Liam, her voice small. “I… I can pay you back. In installments?”Five thousand points. The number was a mountain. She’d be in his debt for years.“Whatever,” Liam said, his attention already fixed ahead. He wasn’t looking at her.Relief, sharp and guilty, washed through her. She took a careful sip. The effect was immediate—a warm, potent surge that knitted torn muscle and refilled the hollow ache of spent energy. She could breathe again.
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