Chapter 123: Stage Three

Chapter 123: Chapter 123: Stage Three

POV Switch: Paul

The flame spear flew toward him, the projectile cutting through the air.

It was fast, the speed incredible. It was bright, the light blinding. It was deadly, the threat clear. It cut through the air like a meteor, the trajectory straight. Leaving a trail of fire and smoke behind it, the residue visible. The heat was intense, the temperature rising. The light was blinding, the brightness overwhelming.

Paul didn’t flinch, his body steady.

He had been waiting for this, his patience rewarded. He had been preparing for this, his training complete. He had been holding back, his power restrained. But now it was time to stop holding back, his restraint ending.

He closed his eyes, his lids lowering. He focused, his mind sharpening. He reached deep inside himself, his consciousness descending. Past his mana, the energy flowing. Past his limits, the boundaries breaking. Past everything he had ever known, the knowledge expanding.

He found it, his discovery certain. The core of his power, the source deep within. The source of his wind, the origin of his strength. The heart of his talent, the center of his being.

He grabbed it, his will seizing. He squeezed it, his grip tightening. He pulled it open, his power releasing.

His aura exploded, the energy surging.

Wind erupted from his body, the force immense. A massive gust tore through the plaza, the wind howling. The ground cracked, the stone splintering. The buildings shook, the structures trembling. Debris flew in every direction, the objects scattering.

Paul opened his eyes, his lids rising. They were glowing, the light bright. Green, the color vivid. Bright, the intensity blinding. Powerful, the energy radiating.

He had entered stage three, his power ascending.

The flame spear reached him, the projectile arriving. He raised his hand, his arm extending. A wall of wind formed, the barrier solid. The spear hit the wall, the impact thunderous. It exploded, the flames scattering. Flames scattered everywhere, the fire spreading. But Paul was unharmed, his body protected.

Lord Ashworth stared, his mouth open. His eyes were wide, the pupils dilated.

"What..." he whispered, his voice barely audible. "What is this?"

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

"This," he said, his voice calm, "is stage three."

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.

"Stage three?" he spat, his voice incredulous. "You’re just a street rat! A nobody! How can you be stage three?"

"I trained," Paul said, his voice flat. "I worked. I pushed myself beyond my limits."

"You’re lying!"

"I’m not."

"You can’t be stage three! You’re too young! Too weak! Too—"

"Too what?"

Lord Ashworth screamed, his voice piercing. He threw another fireball, his hand thrusting. It was larger than before, the size impressive. Hotter, the heat intense. Deadlier, the threat clear.

Paul raised his hand, his arm extending. A wind blade formed, the weapon solid. He slashed, his arm swinging. The fireball split in two, the projectile divided. It dissipated, the flames fading. It disappeared, the threat gone.

Lord Ashworth stared, his mouth open. His eyes were wide, the pupils dilated.

"That’s impossible," he whispered, his voice trembling. "That’s impossible!"

"Nothing is impossible," Paul said, his voice calm. "You just have to work for it."

Lord Ashworth screamed again, his voice piercing. He threw more fireballs, his hands thrusting. Paul dodged them, his body moving. He deflected them, his hands striking. He destroyed them, his wind cutting. He moved like the wind, his speed incredible. He was everywhere and nowhere, his presence elusive. He was untouchable, his form shifting.

Lord Ashworth was getting frustrated, his patience wearing thin. His attacks were missing, the projectiles flying past. His defenses were failing, the barriers breaking. His rage was growing, the fury intensifying.

"You can’t win!" he shouted, his voice desperate. "I’m an A-rank! I’ve been training for decades! You’re just a child!"

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

"Age doesn’t matter," he said, his voice flat. "Talent doesn’t matter. What matters is power. And right now, I have more power than you."

Lord Ashworth’s face went pale, the color draining. His flames flickered, the fire wavering. His body was trembling, the shakes visible.

"You’re lying," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "You’re lying!"

"I’m not."

"You can’t be stronger than me! You can’t be!"

"I am."

Lord Ashworth screamed, his voice piercing. He raised both hands, his arms extending. Fire gathered around him, the flames swirling. It swirled, the motion circular. It grew, the size increasing. It became a massive sphere of flame, the orb forming. It was the size of a house, the dimensions impressive. It was the size of a mountain, the scale immense. It was the size of the sun, the power overwhelming.

"I’ll kill you!" he shouted, his voice desperate. "I’ll kill you and everyone you care about!"

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

"Try," he said, his voice flat.

Lord Ashworth threw the sphere, his arms extending.

It flew toward Paul, the projectile massive. It was massive, the size overwhelming. It was terrifying, the threat clear. It was unstoppable, the force immense.

Paul raised his hand, his arm extending. Wind gathered in his palm, the air swirling. It swirled, the motion circular. It compressed, the density rising. It became a spear, the weapon forming. A long, thin spear of pure wind, the shape deadly.

He threw it, his arm extending.

The spear hit the sphere, the impact thunderous. The sphere exploded, the flames scattering. Flames scattered everywhere, the fire spreading. The ground shook, the stone trembling. The buildings crumbled, the structures collapsing.

But Paul was unharmed, his body protected. He stood there, his form steady. His wind swirled around him, the air moving. His expression was calm, the features unreadable.

Lord Ashworth stared, his mouth open. His eyes were wide, the pupils dilated.

"How..." he whispered, his voice barely audible. "How..."

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

"I told you," he said, his voice flat. "I have more power than you."

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. His eyes were wild, the gaze desperate.

"No!" he shouted, his voice piercing. "No! I won’t lose! I won’t lose to a street rat!"

He closed his eyes, his lids lowering. He focused, his mind sharpening. He reached deep inside himself, his consciousness descending. Past his mana, the energy flowing. Past his limits, the boundaries breaking. Past everything he had ever known, the knowledge expanding.

He found it, his discovery certain. The core of his power, the source deep within. The source of his fire, the origin of his strength. The heart of his talent, the center of his being.

He grabbed it, his will seizing. He squeezed it, his grip tightening. He pulled it open, his power releasing.

His aura exploded, the energy surging.

Fire erupted from his body, the force immense. A massive wave of flame tore through the plaza, the fire howling. The ground melted, the stone liquefying. The buildings burned, the structures crumbling. The air was filled with smoke and heat, the atmosphere choking.

Lord Ashworth opened his eyes, his lids rising. They were glowing, the light bright. Red, the color vivid. Bright, the intensity blinding. Powerful, the energy radiating.

He had entered stage three, his power ascending.