Chaos Heir

Chapter 1582: Afterimages

Ilman couldn’t oppose that sudden, direct hit. He literally lacked the physical prowess even to think about achieving such a feat.

However, after Ilman lost his foothold and began to fly backward, he adjusted his mana’s consistency, making sure no friction force could ever attempt to slow him down.

That was because the branches were still stabbed inside Ilman, so any opposition to that unavoidable retreat would increase their piercing might. His [Blood Shield] was already reaching its limit, so he couldn’t allow his defensive technique to be stressed any further.

The backward momentum and constant acceleration flung Ilman far away, past what the immense crown had previously covered. The stabbed, ever-stretching branches also failed to keep up with his speed at some point, so his body slipped out of their sharp tips.

Ilman chose to retreat even further after breaking free, only to spread his arms and legs once he confirmed that the sharp roots weren’t chasing him anymore.

The gesture expanded Ilman’s aura, which interacted with the environment and immediately dispersed his momentum, making him fall prey to gravity and land on intact black ground that the clash had yet to destroy.

The clotted, pale blood vessels retreated beneath the skin as soon as Ilman’s feet touched the black surface, revealing his state. Superficial, thumb-sized holes had opened on his chest, shoulders, thighs, and face, but none of them was serious.

Actually, Ilman had already stopped bleeding by the time he had landed, but that left little room for reassurance since someone quickly joined him in that distant part of the area.

Roots emerged from the ground at some distance from Ilman, rising for almost two meters before melting and condensing again into a humanoid shape. The elderly King reunited with Ilman, only to inspect the hot aura that surrounded him.

It was strange, really. The King knew Ilman was no weakling. His performance from earlier had proven as much. He also didn’t look like the type of warrior who would rely on cunning strategies.

Yet, the way the King saw it, Ilman was still holding back. At least, things looked like that since his mana’s individual iteration had yet to manifest itself. That warm aura was Ilman’s only odd feature, but it seemed too weak for the King to connect it with his element.

Meanwhile, Ilman was slightly confused. He had shown his true nature since the beginning of the battle, but the King looked unable to catch on to that. He also didn’t want to pass as a liar, but that wasn’t really a priority right now.

Actually, it didn’t even come close to that. Ilman’s only priority was to win, both to aid his friend in that universal war and to survive and return to his pregnant wife-to-be. A man and Niqols like him couldn’t possibly forsake that.

Luckily, Ilman knew a simple way to strive for victory while also giving a clearer idea of his element.

The world in Ilman’s vision turned pitch-black again as soon as the King sensed the change in his mood. However, that widespread attack didn’t take him by surprise anymore. His glowing, scarlet eyes clearly followed its advance now.

The world hadn’t actually changed. Pitch-black branches had filled it, escaping from the King’s figure to expand everywhere while converging toward Ilman.

It seemed the massive shape from before wasn’t completely gone. The King had it contained inside his body and could unleash it at will, relying on its advantages without suffering from its drawbacks.

If anything, that different offense was faster and more explosive, but Ilman could say the same about himself. Just like his eyes could now follow the incoming branches, so could his body, which moved as soon as he spotted an opening.

Instead of retreating, Ilman shot forward, diving directly into the array of sharp branches converging toward him. The attack closed every possible path, being so thick it completely hid the King, but Ilman saw a clear entrance.

Right before clashing with the branches, Ilman’s figure blurred. His most physically solid shape was still advancing in a straight line forward, but afterimages of his arms and legs spread from it.

Multiple punches, palm strikes, and kicks collided on the branches simultaneously, each delivering a precise amount and type of force.

Some blows merely pushed the branches away. Others touched them, only to release widespread shockwaves that influenced their momentum. A few directly destroyed those protuberances, but they were in the minority.

And the array of branches opened under that strange offensive. The destroyed protuberances sent shards that hindered the other advancing ones. The same went for those affected by the shockwaves or pushed away, causing a chain reaction that seamlessly dug a path through that thick offensive.

The afterimages didn’t even stop appearing. More seemingly illusory limbs formed around Ilman while he kept advancing, releasing additional blows until the whole array of branches opened to reveal its source.

The King didn’t actually believe Ilman could sort his way through his offensive, but that first volley of branches simply was the best he could unleash in the available space. Now that Ilman had opened a new path, he could release more of those while closing that gap.

Yet, before the King could launch an additional attack, Ilman’s figure blurred even further. The alien felt that something was off, but his existence failed to react to it, ending up experiencing pain before he could understand what was happening.

Somehow, the still-relatively distant Ilman was now in front of the King, a series of afterimages standing behind him to mark his sudden sprint. His arm was also stretched forward, two of his fingers placed at the center of the King’s chest.

The King had been hit, and the pain he felt wasn’t normal. It wasn’t anything he had experienced during the previous clashes. It was deep, piercing straight into the core of his existence, hurting him in ways he didn’t think possible.

And that seemingly internal injury had visible effects. Ilman seemed to have dug a hole into the King’s existence, and his black figure released a messy, twisted torrent of branches, roots, and melted pieces of his trunk from the cape hanging from his back.