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Chapter 200: Echoes of Retreat.
The camp smelled of herbs, smoke, and blood. Not the fresh metallic tang of battle, but the heavy, lingering odor that clung to bandages and half boiled poultices. Kirin lay still at first, breathing slowly, forcing his body to obey him after the foolishness that had nearly cost him everything. His ribs ached like they had been broken and hammered back into place, and every muscle throbbed with exhaustion.The healers had done what they could, but their knowledge was limited. It was his own Qi that worked deeper, coiling through cracked bones and torn veins, knitting the damage back together. He sat cross legged on a thin mat, sweat beading on his brow, as black lightning pulsed faintly from his skin before receding inward.Two days. That was all it had taken. Two days of silence, pain, and steady meditation. By the end of the second night, his strength had returned enough for him to stand and walk the perimeter of the camp without staggering. His body still bore bruises like blackene
Chapter 199. Whispers of Survival.
Kirin woke to the smell of smoke and herbs. His eyelids felt as heavy as stone, and when he tried to lift his body, a sharp pain stabbed through every bone and muscle. The world was blurry,, shadows moving in the dim light of a fire, the sound of hushed voices, and the faint dripping of water somewhere close.It took him several breaths to realize he wasn’t on the battlefield anymore. He was lying on a rough bed of straw and hides, a thin blanket thrown across his battered body. His chest ached as though it had been split in two, his arms and legs felt weighed down with chains, and every time he inhaled, he could taste blood at the back of his throat.When his vision finally steadied, he saw the outlines of people around him. Soldiers, their armor dented and scorched. Peasants, dirty and trembling but alive. And an old man with a crooked back and trembling hands, grinding herbs into paste beside a dim lantern. The healer’s face was lined with wrinkles, but his eyes were sharp, focused
Chapter 198. Shadows Against a Titan.
Kirin could barely breathe. His chest felt like a cavern of shattered glass, every attempt to draw air dragging pain through broken ribs. His body wouldn’t move no matter how much his spirit screamed at it to rise.The crater around him smoked, earth still trembling from the single flick of the Demon Lord’s finger. He had poured everything into that attack, Qi, chaos energy, every shred of lightning his cursed blood would give him and in return he had been cast down like a ragdoll.“Run, boy,” Vael’s voice still echoed in his ears. Sharp. Cutting. A truth Kirin hated but could not deny.Hands grabbed him. Soldiers, maybe mercenaries, he couldn’t tell. Their voices shouted over the storm:“Get him out of here!”“He’s alive... barely!”“Move before the Lord notices!”Kirin wanted to resist. His pride howled against the indignity of being dragged away like some wounded child. But when he tried to lift his arm, only a whimper escaped his throat. His strength was gone. His body wasn’t his
Chapter 197. A Fool’s Strike.
The storm above Hollow Ridge screamed with crimson lightning, its jagged bolts tearing across the corrupted sky. The Demon Lord’s shadow stretched like a living wound, staining the battlefield beneath him in hues of red and black. His presence pressed down on Malakar as though the entire realm had been shoved beneath an ocean of molten iron.And still... Kirin’s heart refused to bow.He stood at the ridge, lightning flickering around his shoulders like restless serpents, his hands clenched into fists. His blood pounded in his ears, louder than the cries of soldiers, louder than the horns of war. Every memory surged within him, the chains in the underworld, the screams of betrayal, the humiliation of weakness, the years of being called cursed, useless, unwanted. And now, standing face to face with the monster who had scarred his soul, he could not wait.'I’ve trained. I’ve bled. I’ve broken myself to stand here. I won’t just watch.'Without a single word of warning, Kirin moved.The ri
Chapter 196. The War Truly Begins.
The horizon bled crimson. The sun, if it had existed, was swallowed beneath a swirling storm of ash and clouds twisted by dark energy. Winds tore across the plains, carrying the scent of smoke, blood, and the acrid tang of magic. Every fortress, every training ground, every outpost in Malakar shuddered under the weight of what was coming.Kirin stood atop the shattered ridge of Hollow Ridge, a vantage point overlooking the central battlefield where Malakar’s armies had assembled. Thousands of soldiers, cultivators, and wandering mercenaries filled the plains below, their armor glinting faintly in the unnatural light. Banners whipped violently in the storm, bearing the emblems of sects, noble houses, and independent clans alike.And yet, despite the sheer number of them, the tension was palpable. Fear coiled in the hearts of men and women alike, not just at the scale of the demon hordes they were about to face, but at the aura that now descended upon the realm like a storm of molten ir
Chapter 195. The Broken Temple.
The wind was sharp, slicing through the mountain passes like a cold blade. Kirin trudged through loose stones and shattered cliffs, every step sending small avalanches tumbling downward. He didn’t speak, didn’t pause, because he could feel it—the pull of ancient energy, faint but persistent, like a heartbeat buried beneath centuries of ruin. It led him here, higher into the mountains than he had ever dared, to a place where even the air seemed thin with history and forgotten battles.The temple appeared suddenly, half-buried beneath rockslides and snow. Its roof had collapsed in places, and vines crawled over its stone walls, as if nature itself sought to erase it. The doors were cracked, splintered, and one massive hinge hung loosely. It should have been quiet, empty, lifeless—but the air was thick, humming faintly with lingering Qi. Kirin stepped closer, hand gripping the hilt of his sword.Inside, the temple was a tomb of shadows and dust. Stone statues, eroded and broken, lined th
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