Chapter 122: The Fire Lord

Chapter 122: Chapter 122: The Fire Lord

POV Switch: Paul

Lord Ashworth stood there, his form imposing and terrible.

His fists were clenched, the fingers curled tight. Fire surrounded them, the flames dancing. The flames crackled and hissed, the sound sharp and menacing. They cast flickering shadows across his face, the light dancing. His eyes were burning with rage, the fury evident. His expression was twisted with fury, the features contorted.

He was a powerful man, his strength undeniable. A dangerous man, his threat clear. An A-rank fire talent user, his rank impressive.

Paul knew this, his mind recognizing. He could feel it, his senses alert. The mana radiating from Lord Ashworth was immense, the power overwhelming. It was overwhelming, the force suffocating. It was suffocating, the pressure intense.

But Paul didn’t flinch, his body steady.

He stood there, his form still. His hands were raised, the palms open. His wind swirled around him, the air moving. His expression was calm, the features unreadable.

"You," Lord Ashworth said, his voice low. "You attacked my daughter."

Paul didn’t answer, his silence speaking.

"You broke her jaw. You ruined her face. You humiliated her in front of everyone."

Paul still didn’t answer, his expression unchanged.

"Do you know who I am? Do you know what I can do to you?"

Paul finally spoke, his voice calm. Steady.

"I know who you are," he said, his voice flat. "You’re Lord Ashworth. The owner of this city. The father of that spoiled brat."

Lord Ashworth’s face went red, the color flooding. His flames burned brighter, the light intensifying.

"How dare you!" he shouted, his voice high. "How dare you speak about my daughter like that!"

"She deserved it."

"She deserved it? She’s a noble! She’s my daughter! She deserves respect!"

"She deserves nothing. She’s arrogant. She’s entitled. She’s cruel. She treats people like objects."

Lord Ashworth screamed, his voice piercing. His flames exploded outward, the fire surging. They scorched the ground, the stone blackening. They cracked the stone, the surface splintering. They filled the air with heat, the temperature rising.

"You will pay for those words!" he shouted, his voice fierce. "You will pay with your life!"

Paul didn’t move, his body still. He just stood there, his form steady. His wind swirled faster, the air spinning. His expression was calm, the features unreadable.

"You’re welcome to try," he said, his voice flat.

Lord Ashworth charged, his body surging forward.

He threw a fireball, his hand thrusting. It was large, the size impressive. It was bright, the light blinding. It was deadly, the heat intense.

Paul dodged, his body moving. He moved to the side, his form shifting. The fireball passed by, the projectile flying. It hit a building, the structure crumbling. The building exploded, the debris scattering.

Lord Ashworth threw another fireball, his hand thrusting. Paul dodged again, his body twisting. Another, the projectile flying. He dodged, his form moving. Another, the fireball surging. He dodged, his body shifting.

The fireballs kept coming, the barrage relentless. They were fast, the speed incredible. They were powerful, the force immense. They were relentless, the assault unceasing.

But Paul kept dodging, his body moving. He moved like the wind, his speed incredible. He was everywhere and nowhere, his presence elusive. He was a blur of motion, his form indistinct.

Lord Ashworth stopped, his footsteps ceasing. He was breathing hard, the breath ragged. His flames were still burning, the fire bright. His face was still red, the color flushed.

"You’re fast," he said, his voice grudging. "I’ll give you that."

Paul didn’t answer, his silence speaking.

"But speed won’t save you. I’m an A-rank fire talent user. I’ve been training for decades. I’ve fought in wars. I’ve killed monsters. I’ve killed men."

Paul still didn’t answer, his expression unchanged.

"You’re nothing. You’re a nobody. You’re a street rat with a pretty face."

Paul smiled, a cold, dangerous smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

"You talk too much," he said, his voice flat.

Lord Ashworth’s face twisted with rage, the features contorting. His flames burned brighter, the light intensifying. His body was trembling, the shakes running through him.

"You dare mock me?" he shouted, his voice high. "You dare mock Lord Ashworth?"

"I dare."

"I’ll kill you! I’ll burn you alive! I’ll—"

"You’ll what? Throw more fireballs? I’ve been dodging them easily."

Lord Ashworth screamed, his voice piercing. He threw another fireball, his hand thrusting. Paul dodged, his body moving. Another, the projectile flying. He dodged, his form twisting. Another, the fireball surging. He dodged, his body shifting.

The fireballs kept coming, the barrage relentless. They were faster now, the speed increased. More powerful, the force greater. More deadly, the heat intense.

But Paul kept dodging, his body moving. He moved like the wind, his speed incredible. He was untouchable, his form elusive.

Lord Ashworth stopped, his footsteps ceasing. He was panting, the breath ragged. His flames were flickering, the fire wavering. His body was trembling, the shakes visible.

"You... you’re..."

"I’m what?"

Lord Ashworth smiled, a cold, cruel smile that twisted his features.

"Those were my weak attacks," he said, his voice low. "I was testing you. I was measuring your strength."

Paul raised an eyebrow, his expression curious. "And?"

"And I’m not impressed. You’re fast. But you’re not strong. You’re not powerful. You’re not a threat."

Paul didn’t answer, his silence speaking.

"I could kill you easily," Lord Ashworth continued, his voice confident. "I could burn you to ashes with a single thought. But I won’t."

Paul tilted his head, his expression curious. "Why not?"

"Because I want to torture you. I want to make you suffer. I want to make you beg for death."

Paul didn’t respond, his expression unchanged.

"Your elf friend too. I’ll make her watch. I’ll make her scream. I’ll make her beg."

Paul’s expression didn’t change, his features still. But his eyes were colder now, the gaze icy.

"You won’t touch her," he said, his voice low.

Lord Ashworth laughed, a cold, mocking sound.

"Oh? And who’s going to stop me? You?"

"Yes."

"You’re nothing. You’re a street rat. A nobody. You can’t stop me."

"Try me."

Lord Ashworth smiled, a cold, dangerous smile that sent shivers down the spines of everyone who saw it.

"Gladly."

He raised his hand, his arm extending. Fire gathered in his palm, the flames swirling. It swirled, the motion circular. It grew, the size increasing. It compressed, the density rising. It became a spear, the shape forming. A long, thin spear of pure flame, the weapon deadly.

It was beautiful, the sight mesmerizing. It was terrible, the power immense. It was deadly, the threat clear.

"I’ll make this quick," Lord Ashworth said, his voice low. "I’ll pierce your heart. I’ll watch you die. Then I’ll take your elf friend. I’ll make her suffer. I’ll make her scream."

Paul didn’t answer, his silence speaking. He just stood there, his form still. His wind swirled around him, the air moving. His expression was calm, the features unreadable.

Lord Ashworth threw the spear, his arm extending.