2025-07-03 23:26:42
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Chapter 192. The War Council.
The war room was a cavernous hall beneath Malakar’s palace, its stone walls etched with runes that pulsed faintly in the dim candlelight. Smoke from torches curled along the ceiling, carrying the scent of wax, oil, and old stone. A massive round table dominated the center, cluttered with maps, scrolls, and diagrams of Malakar’s lands. Around it sat the kingdom’s generals, sect leaders, and nobles, each adorned in the finery of authority—robes embroidered with gold, armor polished to a mirror sheen, eyes glittering with pride and caution.At first, Kirin felt out of place. He had walked into the hall with his black robes, bloodied sword strapped to his back, and the unmistakable aura of chaos essence crackling subtly around him. His presence drew glances, some curious, some wary. Many of the nobles exchanged whispers, frowns etched into their faces. Here was the cursed boy who refused allegiance, the lone wanderer who had cut down demons without flinching, standing in their sacred coun
Chapter 191. Oath of Vengeance.
The battlefield was silent now, save for the hiss of smoldering fires and the occasional groan of the wounded. Kirin stood atop a small hill, a mound of corpses human, demon, and those twisted hybrids that had spilled through the rifts. The air was thick with smoke, the coppery tang of blood, and the acrid stench of charred flesh. The chaos had ended, for now, leaving nothing but the remnants of what had once been a thriving valley.Kirin’s boots sank slightly into the blood-soaked soil. His sword was sheathed at his side, black lightning flickering faintly along the blade’s edge, a whisper of the energy coursing within him. He surveyed the devastation below. Villages razed, soldiers decimated, and yet… still, a part of him felt calm.For years, he had fought merely to survive. Every swing of his blade, every drop of sweat and blood had been about living to see another day, about avoiding chains, curses, and death. But this—this was different.The wind tore across the hilltop, whippin
Chapter 190. The Crimson Revelation.
Kirin’s steps were quiet as he moved through the war-torn landscape of Malakar. The air was thick with ash and smoke, and the occasional wail of survivors echoed across the shattered plains. Even now, weeks after the first rift appeared in the sky, the world seemed fragile, as though one wrong movement could tear it entirely apart.He had returned to the battlefield repeatedly, cutting through hordes of demons, saving soldiers, and forcing open collapsing portals. And yet, despite his efforts, something gnawed at him—something more than the endless carnage. The attacks were too precise, too deliberate, too… organized for a mindless surge of monsters.It was during a rare moment of rest that the truth began to reveal itself. Kirin had taken refuge in a ruined temple, high on a cliff overlooking one of the major battlefields. Soldiers and survivors had left traces of campfires below, their movements hurried and cautious. But it wasn’t the smoke or the distant clashes that caught his att
Chapter 189. Seeds of Suspicion.
The battlefield had quieted for a brief moment, a lull that felt almost unnatural. Kirin moved through the scorched remains of Blackwater Valley, boots crunching on broken stone and ash. Smoke still curled from the corpses of demons and soldiers alike, the air heavy with the metallic scent of blood. The Mid Soul Nascent power thrumming within him made every breath feel sharper, every heartbeat louder. He was alive, and he was strong—but the world around him was fragile.Voices drifted to him from a nearby encampment. Soldiers huddled together, exhausted, battered, and wary. At first, Kirin ignored them. Soldiers whispered constantly, half in fear, half in habit, and he had no interest in idle gossip. But the words caught his attention, dragging him closer like a magnet to a hidden fault line.“They’ve known… the nobles have always known,” one soldier muttered, voice low. “This was coming, and they did nothing. They’ve been sitting in their halls, hoarding what could have saved lives.”
Chapter 188. The Demon Horde.
The sun barely rose over the plains of Malakar when the horizon split open in a terrifying surge. A wall of darkness, moving and alive, crawled across the lands like a tide of shadows. Tens of thousands of demons poured through the portals, their grotesque forms stretching the imagination—clawed, scaled, horned, and screaming in voices that could crack stone.The ground shook with the weight of their march. Villages burned before the army even reached them. Soldiers tried to form lines, but the sheer number of invaders crushed every tactic. Spears snapped under the force of charging monstrosities. Arrows darkened the sky, but many demons ignored them, shrugging off even the strongest magical strikes.Kirin appeared on the battlefield as if born from the chaos itself. His black lightning-infused Qi danced around him, cutting through the air with a sharp hiss. His sword moved in a blur, each strike leaving scorched impressions on the earth, bodies of demons torn apart in a storm of bloo
Chapter 187. Return to the Battlefield.
The wind carried the scent of smoke and death across the plains of Malakar. Where villages had once thrived, only charred ruins remained. The cries of the wounded and the dying were faint echoes, barely carrying above the constant roar of battle. Portals still tore the sky, irregular tears bleeding energy from the underworld, and the occasional howl of lesser demons punctuated the air.Kirin emerged from the mist of morning, stepping over splintered wagons and fallen soldiers. The Mid Soul Nascent breakthrough had left him renewed—his veins thrumming with black lightning and chaos essence coiling around his Qi like living serpents. Every step he took resonated with raw energy, and even the slightest gust of wind seemed to bend around him.Soldiers paused mid-stride, their expressions frozen between disbelief and hope. They had fought for days, staggering beneath endless waves of demons, and now here was Kirin—alone, unannounced, and radiating a presence that could cut through despair
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