novelzi Chapter 362: Let It Happen
Chapter 362: Let It Happen
Chapter 362: Let It Happen
Author’s Note: Do Not Unlock Yet. Chapter Is Still Under Construction.
------------------
Rhozan raised his staff and began chanting resolutely.
Ancient Kahr’uun syllables rolled off his tongue with authority. The air around him vibrated violently as the mana density skyrocketed.
Frost gathered, thickened, and crystallized into massive glyphs that floated around his body, spinning in slow, deliberate orbits.
The Kahr’uun warriors still standing—over seven hundred of them—felt it immediately.
Their eyes widened.
"This is... High Sovereign Magic..." "He’s burning his life force..." "He doesn’t plan to survive this."
The chant reached its crescendo.
Rhozan slammed the base of his staff into the ice.
The world answered.
A colossal spear of compressed glacial mana formed above him, spiraling with layered enchantments—destruction, binding, severance, purification. The temperature plunged so sharply that even corruption recoiled for a split second.
The spear descended.
It struck the corrupt entity squarely in the torso.
The explosion was deafening.
Ice vaporized into mist. Shockwaves tore across the battlefield, flinging warriors backward as the ground split open in jagged fissures. The corrupt entity roared—an ear-splitting, reality-shaking sound—as its body was driven into the ice, massive portions of corrupted flesh obliterated in a single strike.
Before it could recover, the Kahr’uun warriors attacked.
Hundreds of spells detonated in rapid succession.
Fire and ice intertwined. Lightning lanced down from above. Weaponized mana tore into the exposed core of the entity. Chains of light wrapped around its limbs, anchoring it momentarily.
For the first time since the battle began—
The corrupt entity was pushed back.
Rhozan didn’t stop.
Blood leaked from his mouth, his eyes, his ears—but he continued casting.
Again.
And again.
Each spell struck with terrifying precision, carving away corrupted mass, blasting craters into the ice, forcing the entity to stagger, to recoil, to endure.
For several heartbeats—
Hope surged across the battlefield.
"We’re doing it!" "It’s retreating!" "Hold the formation!"
But Rhozan knew better.
He felt it.
The entity’s attention narrowed.
The corrupt entity stopped reacting to the warriors.
Its gaze locked onto Rhozan alone.
Everything else faded.
The temperature shifted—not colder, but heavier. The air felt suffocating, as though reality itself was bending inward toward a single point.
Rhozan’s heart sank.
"...So you’ve chosen me," he murmured.
The corrupt entity surged forward.
Not wildly.
Not recklessly.
With intent.
It ignored every spell fired from the sides. Lightning struck its back—ignored. Ice spears shattered against hardened corruption—ignored. Chains snapped as its strength surged exponentially.
It crossed the battlefield in an instant.
Rhozan barely raised his staff in time.
The impact was devastating.
He was sent flying like a broken doll, smashing into a jagged ice outcrop with bone-crushing force. His body slid down, leaving a trail of blood behind him.
He coughed violently.
Mana sputtered.
His vision blurred.
The corrupt entity loomed over him, its form reconstituting rapidly, corruption knitting together what had been destroyed. Its massive limb rose slowly, dark energy condensing around it like a collapsing star.
This was the end.
Rhozan couldn’t move.
Couldn’t speak.
Couldn’t even scream.
So this is our retribution...
The limb descended.
And then—
The world exploded outward.
A force unlike anything the battlefield had felt before erupted from a single point. It wasn’t mana. It wasn’t elemental. It was invisible—yet absolute.
A telekinetic wave.
The ice shattered outward in a perfect radius.
Rhozan’s body was lifted effortlessly and hurled away, cushioned by an unseen force that prevented him from splattering against the ground. Warriors were flung dozens of meters in every direction, shields ripped from their arms, spells dispelled mid-cast.
Even the corrupt entity was sent flying.
It slammed into the ground hundreds of meters away, plowing through ice and stone before finally coming to a halt.
Silence fell.
Snow drifted gently through the air.
A figure stood at the epicenter of the devastation.
Victor.
He stood calmly, hands lowered, eyes cold and unreadable. His presence pressed down on the battlefield like an unseen sky, heavy and suffocating. The air around him trembled faintly, space subtly distorted by restrained telekinetic pressure.
Every Kahr’uun warrior froze.
"...Iruhun..." "He’s here..." "The true Iruhun..."
Shock rippled through their ranks.
Even the corrupt entity stilled.
Its twisted form slowly rose from the crater, corrupted energy pulsing erratically as it fixed its gaze on Victor. There was recognition in that gaze.
And disbelief.
It had believed Victor would not return.
Victor looked at it.
Then he glanced briefly toward Rhozan, ensuring the Kahr’uun leader still lived.
Only then did he speak.
"You shouldn’t be alive," the corrupt entity growled, its voice layered and distorted. "You abandoned them."
Victor didn’t deny it.
"I did."
Murmurs rippled through the warriors.
The corrupt entity’s corruption surged.
"Then why are you here?" it demanded.
Victor exhaled slowly.
"I thought about it," he said. "About what you are. About what they did. About the innocent ones who weren’t even alive when the sin was committed."
The Kahr’uun warriors began shouting.
"Great Iruhun, kill it!" "End it now!" "Destroy the corruption!"
Victor raised a single hand.
Silence fell instantly.
He turned—not to the warriors—but to the corrupt entity.
"You’re capable of communication," Victor said evenly. "You’re not mindless. You remember. You feel."
The corrupt entity tensed.
Victor’s gaze hardened.
"So tell me," he continued, his voice calm yet carrying terrifying weight, "is there any way to resolve this forty-year-old grudge... without wiping out an entire civilization?"
The battlefield held its breath.
For the first time—
No one attacked.
No one cast spells.
Even the corrupt entity hesitated.
And in that moment, Victor Fang Chen stood not as savior, nor executioner—
But as the one who refused to choose a side blindly.
----sss
Far away—beyond the battlefield, beyond the storm of magic and blood—Victor stood atop a jagged ice ridge.
The battle sounds reached him clearly now.
The clash of mana.
The roars of warriors.
The unmistakable presence of the corrupt entity.
Victor’s expression was dark.
He had felt it growing stronger.
But seeing it now—feeling it—was different.
"...Two hundred already," he muttered quietly.
His fingers twitched.
The Void Emperor Bloodline stirred in his veins.
Telekinetic pressure rippled subtly through the air around him, cracking the ice beneath his feet.
Victor exhaled slowly.
Below him, the battlefield drowned in blood.
And the question he had tried so hard to avoid finally returned—louder than ever.
How many more have to die... before I stop pretending this isn’t my responsibility?
----sss
The ground cracked open beneath Victor’s palm as he slammed down his Frost Bloom Palm, unleashing the technique at its fullest extent.
A thunderclap of cold qi burst outward in an expanding wave, washing over the molten battlefield. The effect was immediate.
Dozens of Drakenars whose bodies burned like molten furnaces with glowing orange scales as if carved straight from volcanic rock, froze mid-roar.
Their molten blood hissed into hardened obsidian as sheets of frost raced across their rough hides.
Victor didn’t give them time to recover.
He flung his legacy sword outward while attaching Void Qi to it like invisible threads.
He flicked his fingers to the side and the weapon responded instantly, spinning like a storm-tossed wheel through the air.
Its silver arc cut seven Drakenars cleanly across their throats, causing molten ichor to spray like broken geysers.
Their bodies collapsed in synchronized thuds before the sword whistled back into Victor’s hand.
"Thirty seven down," Victor muttered as his lips curled into a sneer. "Five hundred more to go?"
He crouched slightly and leapt forward, soaring upward like a comet.
In mid-air, his body rotated into a downward spiral as he surrounded his blade with qi.
Scrrreeevvv~
The strike came like judgment itself as he cleaved through one Drakenar from head to groin, bisecting it into two flaming halves.
The impact of the blow tore a lengthy scar into the ground below, ripping apart blackened earth with its residual force.
The Drakenars roared in fury, and a volley of lava-based attacks suddenly erupted from every direction.
From the left, balls of molten magma hurled like artillery shells...
From the right, razor blades of condensed lava shot across the battlefield like burning chakrams...
From ahead, massive spears of condensed molten stone, shrieked through the air with enough force to skewer mountains.
Victor’s expression didn’t falter.
"Cute tricks."
His body blurred, becoming a shifting storm of shadows.
"Phantom Mirage Step..." In a heartbeat, he fractured into a dozen afterimages.
To the Drakenars, he seemed to exist everywhere and nowhere at once, weaving through their onslaught like smoke slipping through cracks.
Lava balls crashed against the darkened earth and shattered. Spears split midair as his sword intercepted them. Blades of molten stone sliced only air as his afterimages danced away.
One by one, the shadows collapsed back into the real Victor.
He landed lightly on one knee as steam rose from his glowing skin. The arrow-shaped markings across his arms and face, became more prominent... more of his hair turned whiter, tilting the ratio between black and white.
The qi emanating from him became an overwhelming tide that bent the very air around him.
The Drakenars faltered as Victor slowly stepped forward with his body cutting through the smoke and rubble behind.
Their molten eyes widened, and some even stumbled backward. Their very instincts told them that this was not prey... This was a predator in human skin.
A guttural hiss swept through their ranks as one roared:
"—A human youngster should not be this powerful!"
Although they had spoken another language, Victor tilted his head like he could understand what they meant.
"I guess these ones didn’t take English lessons..."
He blurred forward with his sword lashing out in a sweeping arc.
Cries filled the surroundings as arms, legs, and heads were severed cleanly. Body parts rained down as blackened, smoldering flesh.
Steaming blood splattered across the grounds.
The battlefield became a butcher’s yard.
Victor’s advance was relentless.
He leapt and twisted midair. "Wind Glide!" He double-jumped, soaring above the heads of twenty more before unleashing Gale Strike downward.
The turbulence blasted the ground apart, shattering Drakenars into broken pieces scattered across smoking rubble.
All around, students trapped in pods and cocoons watched with wide eyes as their supposed peer massacred monsters like a god of war.
From the distance Vayla’s eyes narrowed. "That’s no ordinary youngster. That’s something else."
He unleashed a Skyfire Spiral, exhaling a flaming vortex from his mouth. It spun outward, shredding three Drakenars apart in a tornado of blazing destruction.
Another tried to ambush him from the side by conjuring a whip of molten fire but Victor’s palm shot out, slamming into its chest with Frost Bloom Palm.
The beast screamed as ice surged through its veins causing it movements to slow until Victor sent a fist crashing through its chest.
Another beast lunged. Victor kicked upward, smashing his heel into its chin.
The blow sent it flying across the air before crashing through rough pointy rocks that protruded from the blacked earth.
Step after step, technique after technique, Victor tore them apart.
His movements carried the elegance of a master and the ruthlessness of a slaughterer.
The Drakenars’ morale shattered.
One by one, they fell back, trembling in disbelief. For the first time in their existence, they hesitated before charging at prey.
Victor’s breathing deepened as his chest steamed with both exertion and fury.
His hair floated around him. He looked every inch like a war god striding across a battlefield of corpses.
At the eastern edge, cries rang out.
"Victor! Help us!"
"Victor, save us!"
His eyes snapped toward the east as he spun.
Merged to the darkened grounds were pulsating reddish cocoons with more than five hundred students trapped within.
Their muffled screams tore through the air as they called for victor.
Victor eyes narrowed. He wasn’t going to let any other students die here.
"I’m coming—"
Just as he took a step forward, a sharp whistle pierced the air.
The sound wasn’t normal... it was imbued with mana.
The very air vibrated with the resonance of command.
The surroundings was pretty massive so trying to find the source wasn’t easy for Victor. Especially since he couldn’t sense mana but something told him that sound was bad news.
He paused briefly as his head snapped from side to side.
Over two hundred feet away, on his 3 o’ Clock, Commander Aiz stood calmly beside Vayla the Drakenar sorceress with a cold gaze.
It was obvious that the whistle had come from him.
His straight face displayed a bit of amusement, as though he’d simply been watching a stage play.
Despite Victor’s performance, he didn’t look panicked. Neither did he look threatened.
Instead, he raised two fingers to his lips and blew again.
Two glowing red circles erupted into existence at his feet, inscribed with runes of molten origin, causing the ground to tremble.
The stench of sulfur and burning brimstone filled the air.
From the circles rose two large figures, each up to ten feet tall.
They weren’t like the ordinary Drakenars.
These ones radiated menace.
Their scales were a shade darker than volcanic glass... their molten veins didn’t glow orange, but were blood-red instead.
Their muscular frames looked like walking fortresses as steam hissed from the cracks in their bodies.
When they spoke, their voices were gravel and thunder combined.
"Master Aiz," the left one growled. "What are your orders?"
The other pounded his chest, sending tremors through the surroundings. "Command us."
"Garo... Maro..." Aiz voiced out without hesitation before extending a finger.
He pointed it directly toward Victor who was more than two hundred feet away, standing amidst a field of corpses and molten ruin.
"A monster has appeared," Aiz voiced with a cold smile. "Deal with him."
The two Drakenars turned their glowing eyes toward Victor as their mouths twisted into snarls.
Twwhiii~
The ground split apart in fiery lines as Garo and Maro charged in Victor’s direction.
Their movements scorched the blackened earth with each step and the air thickened with heat as though the battlefield itself had become an oven.
Victor swiped his sword sideways, clearing Drakenar blood off his blade.
"Great. A hot welcome committee."
In the next instant, he steadied his stance and slowly raised his legacy sword.
Wind swirled around the blade as he channeled Wind Blade technique into his sword, merging both forces.
The edges of his legacy sword had strange whitish lines fanning around it as if eager to taste blood.
Just as the twin Drakenars closed in, Victor slashed forward cleanly, causing the surroundings to tremble as he aimed at them.
However, in that very instant, Garo’s body melted like wax under fire...
His horned figure collapsed into a roaring pool of molten lava that hissed and sizzled against the cracked ground.
"Huh?" Victor muttered in bafflement as his blade cleaved through nothing but smoke and heat.
He barely had time to adjust before the other Drakenar, Maro, arrived before him with his fist swelling grotesquely.
His fist bubbled with magma before hardening into a massive, molten lava boulder that pulsed with cracks of fire.
Victor’s blade which was still sweeping forward, slammed against it—
Bang!
The collision sent out a shockwave that rattled the surroundings, uprooting debris and scattering embers like fireworks.
For a moment they were locked in place as Maro’s massive fist halted Victor’s sword strike.
The hiss of molten rock meeting the whistling edge of wind and metal, sent a strange pressure across the surroundings.
There was no doubt about it... these two Drakenars were strong.
Before Victor could retract his blade, Garo who had melted into a bubble of lava, appeared behind him—
Victor felt all the hair on his body rise as a molten hand reached out to grab him from behind.