You took down your first boss. The ground remembers the impact. So will the others.

Five titans fallen. Your legend spreads like the plague that birthed them.

25 bosses slain. You didn’t just survive the end times — you conquered them.

100 bosses down. You didn’t just win — you made it look easy.

You've shredded 150 undead. The apocalypse fears your name.

2000 corpses later, you’ve erased a species. Almost impressive.

500 zombies down. You’ve got a PhD in undead population control.

5,000 undead down. The reaper called… said you’re overqualified.

50,000 zombies vaporized. Nature’s mistake corrected — violently.