High above Volcano Crest Resort, the smoke twisted like ghostly serpents. Red light pulsed from the molten depths of the ice volcano, a rare geothermal marvel where cold mist met searing lava. But no one was admiring the view now.Because Jack Sullivan stood at its jagged rim, face untouched by fear, surrounded by the shattered remains of the so-called Nine Soldiers—their elite warriors burned, broken, or boiling in the crater’s unforgiving heat.“You should’ve stayed in your little temple,” Jack muttered, wiping a smear of ash from his knuckles.“You fool!” screamed the Memory Doctor, robes half-torn, one eye swollen, body trembling. “You’ve doomed everything!”Jack didn’t answer. He turned his back on the doctor and stared at the shimmering red glow rising from the center of the magma.Two crystals hovered just above the surface—Bloodfire Crystals, rare condensed forms of earth energy said to awaken new levels of martial consciousness. Only those with monstrous resistance could touc

In a darkened chamber deep within Northvale’s snowy fortress, Matt Donovan, the Little Prince of the Nine Soldiers, stood silently. Cold anger radiated from him, sharp enough to freeze the air.Across from him knelt Brett, a towering figure—broad-shouldered, eyes cold and deadly. Scars marked every inch of his massive arms, each a grim souvenir of victories past.“Jack Sullivan,” Matt spat the name like venom. “He took my vessel and destroyed our plans. He thinks he can stand above us because he seized the Bloodfire Crystals.”Brett growled deeply, fists clenched. “Give the word, Prince. I’ll drag him back broken—and deliver the girl.”“Good.” Matt nodded sharply. “Head to the River Region. Meet our local contact. Sullivan won’t even know he’s being hunted until your blade is at his throat.”Brett stood, nodding once, eyes glittering with ruthless anticipation. “Consider it done.”As Brett left the room, Matt stared into the darkness, teeth gritted in cold fury.“Let’s see how powerfu

Sunlight danced over the crystal-clear surface of Lakeview Villa's tranquil waters. Jack Sullivan stood silently on the shore, eyes closed, his breathing calm and measured. The gentle breeze teased his hair, the air filled with peaceful sounds of rippling water and rustling leaves.This was his sanctuary—the one place he found clarity amidst chaos.As Jack opened his eyes, exhaling softly, he noticed Sophie Shaw swiftly passing by, averting her gaze nervously. It had become routine: ever since their last misunderstanding, she avoided him as though he carried a plague.Jack smiled faintly, shaking his head.If ignoring me keeps her calm, so be it. One less distraction.His phone buzzed sharply, breaking the silence. He answered calmly, knowing it had to be important."Jack, it's Rose," came the cool, confident voice of his trusted associate. "Good news. I found traces of a Snow Lily in North Harbor."Jack’s eyes brightened, his calm posture shifting slightly. "You’re certain?"Rose’s v

“Did you guys hear?” Greg Kent leaned over his desk and whispered, loud enough for the whole row to hear. “Fiona Quinn is supposedly engaged to Phillip Fisher. Yeah, that Phillip—Fisher Group heir from Oak Ridge City.”Helen gasped. “Seriously? That guy’s got like… seven cars and his own island.”Kyle chuckled. “What’s Jack Sullivan going to do when Phillip finds out his fiancée’s running around with some fake big shot?”Greg smirked. “I’m just waiting for Jack to get slapped around by the Fishers. That’ll be the show of the century.”Fiona, a few seats ahead, heard the whispers but didn’t bother turning around. Jack, seated beside her, tapped his pen lightly on the desk, calm but focused.Greg puffed his chest. “By the way, that necklace Sophie Shaw’s wearing at the event today? Sponsored by my family’s brand. We’re practically the backbone of this school.”“Oh please,” Fiona muttered under her breath. “Backbone? You’re more like dandruff on a blazer—annoying and flaky.”Greg flushed

Jack Sullivan stood in front of the glass case, hands still trembling as he gently flipped through the jade-bound pages of the Green Medicine Book. The scent of ancient parchment and ink was intoxicating—rich, powerful, sacred. The pages hummed with knowledge lost to time.Professor Lawrence Bryant watched him with a calm, unreadable expression, hands folded behind his back.“You’re the first person,” he said casually, “to touch that book in over fifty years.”Jack looked up sharply. “You… trust me with this?”Lawrence chuckled lightly. “Jack, I don’t just trust you. I respect you. There’s a difference.”Jack closed the book slowly, handling it like glass. “I’ve seen war. Led regions. Broken men stronger than steel. But this—this book—it’s worth more than all of that. Why would you show me something so… priceless?”Lawrence gave a soft shrug and walked to the sideboard to pour himself tea. “Because power comes in many forms. Some fight with fists. Others with knowledge. You carry both