The King Of Warriors novel (Jared Chance) novel Chapter 5469

The Soul Devourer's mask of calm shattered. "My Lord!" it cried, voice quivering as the Fire Demon Lord crumpled.

Struggling upright, the Fire Demon Lord's gaze crackled with storm-dark rage, black flames flickering in his pupils.

"You have driven me past mercy," he hissed, each syllable ringing like steel on stone.

Midnight fire erupted from his core, swirling around him in devouring vortices. The Fire Spirit Lord answered by releasing every ounce of golden power, refusing to yield an inch.

Space itself twisted; ripples of chaotic void currents tore at the sky, shredding clouds into dust. Their next collision would not merely decide the victor—it threatened to erase the whole of level seven from existence.

Jared's knuckles whitened around the rim of the Dragon Bell. Every soul beside him held the same breathless dread. If even the level six above them broke apart, the bell's bronze skin would mean nothing—and none of them would leave this sky alive.

Boom!

An earth-splitting crash that seemed to tear the heavens echoed..

A lance of blinding gold fire shot from beyond the ninth vault, racing downward so fast the air screamed and curled in its wake.

The blaze was unlike any flame known to men or gods, carrying a sovereign majesty—as though the very ancestor of fire had decided to walk the mortal world.

Midair, the torrent burst outward, feathering into the colossal shape of a phoenix wrought entirely of molten gold. It spread incandescent wings and loosed a cry that shook mountain roots and cloud crowns alike.

A resonant note rolled through the battlefield, deeper than thunder, purer than a bell.

The instant that radiant cry rang out, the black inferno cloaking the Fire Demon Lord and the sacred golden flames shrouding the Fire Spirit Lord bowed beneath an unseen command.

Where those fires had roared violently moments before, they now knelt like subjects before their monarch, guttered, and died in silence.

"Name yourself!" the Fire Demon Lord shouted, forcing steadiness he no longer possessed.

"Whelps like you aren't worthy of my name. You strut about boasting of mastery while I was shaping fire before you finished your first sip of mother's milk. Play with fire? With those paltry tricks? Utterly laughable!"

Each contempt-laced word landed like a blacksmith's hammer against their hearts. In that crushing cadence, they recognized an ancient being, a creature who had lived through ages uncounted and bent every color of flame to his whim.

"W-What... do you intend to do with us?"

The Fire Spirit Lord's voice dropped into a rumble as he called out to the unseen stranger. Although he could sense no malice in that distant presence, the sheer gulf between their strengths pressed on his chest like a mountain of molten stone.

A soft laugh floated across the scorched sky—a lazy, effortless sound that curled through the furnace-hot air like a teasing breeze.

"Nothing so dramatic. I was merely passing by when I heard a few youngsters boasting that their flames were already unrivaled. Remember this—there is always another peak beyond the one you've scaled, always another master beyond the self you think invincible. The true path of flame runs deeper and wider than any of you can presently fathom."