Chaos Heir

Chapter 1581: Heart of passion

The gargantuan tree transformed into a massive pile of glowing, pitch-black smoke that hovered in the air, seemingly too shocked to rejoin the world.

Ilman was in a similar situation. Destroying the tree’s structural integrity had left him without a foothold, ready to fall prey to gravity. Yet, his glowing red eyes completely disregarded his surroundings or predicament and focused solely on the smoke in front of him.

All the previous strikes had been tests. Ilman had tried his best, but his opponent was too vast and different from what he knew, so gathering additional information became necessary to provide him with a winning chance.

Those tests also applied to Ilman himself. He had to check how strong he was and how effective his attacks could be against that powerful opponent to plan his next moves.

And the tests did provide good results. Ilman had grown more confident in his abilities with each exchange, and the direct clash with the giant tree had filled the gaps that his perception had failed to sense.

Therefore, Ilman knew without a shadow of a doubt that his last strike had failed.

The last blow had hit deeper than any of the previous ones. Instead of damaging the tree, it had destabilized its very structural integrity, being incredibly efficient in terms of energy expenditure.

However, Ilman had planned and failed to go even deeper. He had wanted to hit the King’s very existence to inflict lasting damage that the True Chaos couldn’t heal on the spot, but his perception told him that he wasn’t quite there yet.

As if confirming Ilman’s conclusions, the massive pile of smoke suddenly stirred awake, a tremor running through its widespread texture to mark the return of control and awareness.

Ilman prepared himself for a frontal clash, raising his arms and sharpening his perception, searching for footholds in the thin air. Yet, the massive pile of True Chaos didn’t blow outward. It rapidly shrank, soon escaping from Ilman’s vision.

The environment wasn’t immune to the abrupt shrinking of such a massive entity. A pulling force spread everywhere, sucking the area’s air and ground, generating winds that blew alongside that condensing True Chaos.

Ilman was caught right in the middle of that pulling force, but didn’t let it destabilize him. He played along, allowing his body to dive toward the surface alongside the glowing, pitch-black smoke, before performing an abrupt jumping motion.

And a jump did unfold, just downward. Ilman still lacked proper footholds, but his figure shot in a straight, vertical line toward the retreating surface, crashing heavily onto its shattered fabric.

The condensing process continued while Ilman straightened himself. The giant trunk, massive crown, and extensive barrage of roots were no more, but their energy still existed. It had simply converged into a far more limited shape.

That limited shape was human-sized but still unclear, mostly made of flowing smoke rather than solid parts. The pulling force also had yet to wane, so debris and air crashed into that condensed True Chaos, disappearing inside it.

The pulling force eventually vanished. Debris and chunks of broken ground kept rolling toward the condensed smoke, only to come to a stop. Meanwhile, that True Chaos started to solidify, assuming a predictable shape.

The elderly King reappeared in his human-sized form, together with his black robe, short hair, and flowing cape. Two trails of smoke escaped the two holes on his forehead, creating prolonged, curved horns, but no wings unfolded from behind his back.

If anything, except for the horns, Ilman noticed that the King didn’t leak any True Chaos at all. Everything was inside him, stuffing him to the extreme and seemingly wanting to blow past that limited form.

Sacrificing size and range against an opponent as slippery as Ilman was a wise choice, but he faced it without any hesitation. He bent his legs and straightened his right arm, wearing a simple battle stance, while the temperature around him started to rise.

Yet, before Ilman could launch his next attack, the elderly King opened his mouth, partially revealing his black, sharp teeth to release a strange whisper that ignored the language barriers.

"[You blocked my attacks without relying on your mana’s unique iteration]," The King announced. "[That is impossible]."

Ilman didn’t know how to take that statement, but it sounded like a compliment, so he responded accordingly, defaulting to his native language while adding meanings to it. "[Nothing is impossible for a true Niqols with the heart of passion]!"

The King didn’t look convinced. Actually, he was more confused than before.

"[What is a Niqols]?" The King wondered.

Ilman had worn a proud smile during his previous declaration, but that expression froze at that question. He had half-forgotten that the Scarlet Eyes saw everyone in the regulated universe as children of the mana, making no distinction between different species.

"[A Niqols is a very passionate being]!" Ilman ended up shouting in that moment of confusion. Needless to say, the King looked even less convinced than before.

"[No matter]," The King stated. "[Child of the mana, I’ll uncover your true nature soon enough]."

Ilman wanted to explain himself better, only to have no opportunity to do so. Everything in his vision turned pitch-black before his survival instincts could even attempt to shout in danger, hurting him before he could understand what was going on.

Luckily, Ilman was an experienced warrior. His defensive techniques kicked in at the first instance of an injury. His cold blood vessels instantly clotted, creating an intricate piece of armor that prevented the damage from worsening.

The successful block gave Ilman the chance to understand what was happening. The intricate spiderweb of pale blood vessels was clashing with a barrage of sharp branches that crashed onto him, stabbing him all over.

Ilman’s defensive response had been prompt enough to prevent the branches from stabbing him too deeply, but the successful block forced him to face their might now. He tried to oppose the pushing power, only for the impact to send him flying away in the next second.