Free Web NovelChapter 1639: Flames of Malice
"Talk all you want. You still can’t beat me."
Symethis’s casual dismissal nearly made Slagor cough up blood. The truth always cut the deepest.
"I see the hatred in your eyes. I can feel the absolute malice rolling off you." Symethis smiled, savoring the lizardman’s glare. It was the ultimate validation of his superiority. "Unfortunately for you, glaring won’t kill me."
He raised a finger. A pitch-black fireball, no larger than a glass bead, coalesced at the tip. With a light flick, he sent it dropping.
Below, Slagor felt the cold grip of imminent death.
But waiting for death wasn’t in Slagor’s nature. He roared at the sky. His four arms snapped and burst into a cloud of blood mist, rapidly condensing into a massive, crimson eye. Just as the black fireball reached him, the blood eye snapped open and swallowed it whole.
A violent, ceaseless sizzling echoed through the air—the sound of the black fire incinerating his lifeblood.
Slagor let out a bloodcurdling scream and collapsed backward, black blood weeping from his remaining eye as he fell unconscious.
This was a sealing art intrinsic to the Stoneheart Titan bloodline, sacrificing limbs and eyes to neutralize an attack. Naturally, if the enemy’s strike was too powerful, the backlash was severe—blindness and severed limbs were inevitable. Even so, the sheer absurdity of the bloodline was undeniable. For a mere Legendary level to survive a guaranteed-lethal blow from an Arch Lord spoke volumes.
"Was that really necessary?"
A figure materialized beside Slagor, his back to Symethis, obscuring his face. Yet, Slagor smiled. Through his fading vision, the silhouette perfectly mirrored My lord Orion.
"Those who trespass on our lands... shall be purged." Slagor gasped out the old Stoneheart Horde battle cry, a final declaration of his unwavering stance to Pallas.
"Watch over him. Once this is over, ask Mother to transfer him to the Stoneheart Temple. He might still be saved."
Four guards stepped out from behind Pallas, their dense bloodline auras flaring to stabilize the dying lizardman. Only then did Pallas look up at the hovering Battle-Priest Symethis.
"Are you the trial opponent daddy picked out for me?"
Symethis ignored the boy’s provocation. His eyes were locked dead on the four guards standing over Slagor.
Four peak Arch Lords. And they share that same abyssal bloodline. This complicates things. Symethis narrowed his eyes, already calculating a retreat. He hadn’t survived this long by being an idiot; treating the weak and the deadly the same way was a quick ticket to the grave. He still hadn’t given Pallas a second glance.
"Am I being ignored?" Pallas scratched his head. It was genuinely embarrassing, especially with his guards and so many of his people watching. "Figures. No one respects you until you prove it," he muttered. Ever since joining the Platinum Authority, he’d gotten used to this kind of treatment.
"Fine. I’ll just have to beat him into the dirt first!"
Pallas flashed a vicious grin. Starting from a bone bead at his waist, his Bone Plate Armor rapidly encased his entire body. He flipped his palm, summoning a blazing trident. Without a word of warning, Pallas thrust the weapon at the sky.
Boom!
A forbidden fire spell erupted instantly—Flames of Malice tore upward with the sheer will to incinerate everything in its path.
Call it fate, but the annihilation of Lizard City and Slagor’s ceaseless, boiling resentment acted as the perfect spark, fully igniting the Spite of the Wrathful Star. This trident was an heirloom passed down from Orion to Pallas, an artifact that even most Arch Lords could only dream of wielding.
Up in the firmament, the ambush left Battle-Priest Symethis looking slightly worse for wear. The miniature sun above his head dimmed considerably, and his immaculate robes were now heavily creased. freeweɓnovel.cøm
As one of The Solar Celestials, Symethis possessed incredible fire resistance, effectively immune to most flame spells. But Flames of Malice wasn’t purely elemental. Those creases on his robes were the physical manifestation of resentment runes eating into his defenses.
"Boy, you are courting death!" Symethis smoothed out his robes, finally looking down at Pallas with a sliver of genuine focus.
Putting aside the potency of the forbidden spell, the sheer audacity of a Legendary level initiating an attack on an Arch Lord baffled him. Are all the natives of this realm this suicidal? "Who gave you the nerve to challenge me?"
Symethis clapped his hands together. A massive sun rose behind him, bathing the world in blinding light as his overwhelming Arch Lord aura radiated outward. His golden hair instantly turned a brilliant, crystalline white—the pure glow of the sun and the true manifestation of his bloodline.
He slowly parted his hands, drawing out a spear of light so intensely radiant it lacked a defined shape. Leveling the weapon, Symethis aimed it straight at Pallas.
"Pathetic savage. Burn in the glory of The Solar Celestials!"
Down below, Pallas didn’t hesitate. He shifted into his four-headed, eight-armed true form. Gripping his trident tight, he roared and rocketed into the sky.
"Those who trespass on our lands... shall be purged!"
At the World Tree, reality was shattering.
Devouring a world was a structured process. It began with physical reality and ended with its absolute origin. Stripped of their foundational essence and laws, all things devolved into nothingness, returning to their primordial state. ƒгeeweɓn૦vel.com
One of the Cult of Four’s realms had reached exactly this point.
Drained relentlessly by the labyrinth of World Tree roots, the realm was finally hitting ground zero, showing catastrophic signs of collapse.
Yet, just as the collapse began, a miracle manifested.
a colossal Headsman’s Block from the ruins of the dying world, casting its shadow over every single root. In that split second, the roots of the Titanion Realm’s World Tree, along with the Divine Kingdom roots belonging to Orion, The Lifeless Dreadgod, and the others, were completely paralyzed.
The lockdown was absolute—sacred, majestic, and entirely irresistible.
Simultaneously, at the very center of Headsman’s Block, a Divine Idol materialized. Acting as a black hole, the Divine Idol began ravenously swallowing whatever World Essence remained. With every passing second, the aura rolling off the idol grew stronger and infinitely more terrifying.
"Don’t just stand there! Did you really think swallowing a world belonging to the Four Gods would be that easy?" The Lifeless Dreadgod barked. "That is a Divine Sigil left behind by the Four Gods. It feeds on faith and is nurtured by essence. It’s essentially one of their avatars! If you don’t want that Divine Idol to devour us instead, smash it to pieces!"
