Chapter 205

CRACK-SPILL

Small, jagged fractures formed along Lava Fist's arms, but rather than blood, searing hot lava oozed from the open wounds, burning through his flesh as it dripped down his fingers, sizzling as it met the sand beneath him. The arena filled with the acrid scent of charred skin and molten rock, a brutal testament to the suicidal technique he had chosen to invoke.

This was the ultimate desperation move-a forbidden technique that sacrificed his own body in exchange for a temporary burst of overwhelming power, one that would leave him crippled, possibly even dead, the moment it ended.

"You two... keep him busy," Lava Fist ordered through gritted teeth, his voice now hoarse, as though the sheer heat radiating from his body was scorching his throat from the inside out. His entire form shuddered violently, his flesh visibly peeling away, revealing glowing veins of magma underneath.

The two younger martial artists exchanged a brief glance before clenching their fists, their expressions darkening. There was no hesitation as they stepped forward, positioning themselves between Ali and their rapidly transforming leader.

Lava Fist then shut his eyes, bringing his hands together as the air around him grew oppressively heavy, the sheer concentration of Spirit gathering around his body causing the very ground beneath him to tremble.

Ali stood there watching, completely unamused.

'Are they serious? Just standing there and charging up in the middle of a battle? The disrespect..'

Without another thought, Ali lightly hopped up and took flight, soaring straight toward the two martial artists standing as makeshift bodyguards.

The two men braced themselves, their bodies suddenly flaring up with a red, translucent aura, their Spirit visibly manifesting as a protective barrier around them.

Ali smirked.

'A shield against my Telekinesis? I could just wait it out u know….'

He could simply wait them out-force them to burn through their Spirit reserves until the barriers dropped on their own, leaving them as nothing more than helpless prey.

But why waste time?

They weren't worth the effort.

Instead, Ali let go of his own telekinetic hold, cutting off his flight entirely.

From twenty meters in the air, he dropped like a missile, descending upon them with terrifying speed.

The two martial artists reacted instantly—one executing a low sweeping kick, the other stepping forward with a flaming punch, both aiming to catch Ali the moment he landed.

Ali casually lifted his leg, avoiding the sweep, while tilting his head slightly to the side, letting the fire-infused punch graze harmlessly past his face.

For a split second, he was perfectly balanced between them, standing between two simultaneous attacks, untouched, unbothered.

'The thing about fighting me...' Ali mused internally. 'You cannot allow me to land a hit.

Ever.'

Because every single one of his strikes could be lethal.

His movements were so fluid, so precise, that the young martial artist standing before him barely even registered the fingers touching his chest-just a gentle press against his sternum, light as a feather.

But Ali was already looking him in the eyes.

PUNCH.

With a sharp, controlled thrust, Ali executed a perfect one-inch punch straight into the fighter's chest.

CRACK.

The protective barrier shattered on impact, and the martial artist froze, his face twisting into an expression of shock.

Ali had already turned his back on him, uninterested, his attention now focused on the second opponent still standing behind him.

The young man, panic seeping into his expression, thrust both of his hands forward, unleashing a massive wave of scorching flames, determined to consume Ali in a wall of fire.

But Ali merely stood his ground, his gaze blank as the firestorm rushed toward him.

With a small, effortless flick of his fingers, the flames split apart, bending around his body as though an invisible wall had divided them, rendering the attack utterly useless.

THUD.

A heavy dull sound rang out behind him.

The second martial artist turned his head, and his blood ran cold.

His comrade-the one who had taken Ali's one-inch punch-was now face down in the sand, his body eerily still.

There was no wound. No blood.

He was just... dead.

His heart had exploded inside his own chest.

"I'm gonna kill you, you fucking cunt", the martial artist screamed as he charged up his fists.

The remaining martial artist felt his breath hitch. He suddenly became painfully aware of the fact that his barrier had dropped, leaving him completely exposed.

His arms shook uncontrollably, his mind screaming at him to run, to get away from this monster. But before he could even process his next move—

CRACK. CRACK.

He barely had time to register the unnatural bending of his arms before a sharp, agonising pain tore through him.

His elbows snapped backward, his forearms completely broken, both limbs now dangling uselessly at his sides.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!"

The scream that tore from his throat was inhuman, filled with sheer agony and despair.

Ali walked past him without a second glance, his footsteps slow, deliberate, as if the man's suffering was nothing more than background noise.

Behind him, the screaming martial artist collapsed onto his knees, writhing in pain, his mangled arms twitching uncontrollably.

Then—

CRACK.

The crowd barely had time to react before the young man's head twisted a full 180 degrees, snapping his neck in an instant.

Silence.

The remaining spectators held their breath, their eyes locked onto Ali as he stepped over the corpses of his fallen opponents, his attention now solely on the last remaining fighter-

Lava Fist.

Unlike the others, Lava Fist wasn't afraid.

He stood tall, his entire body now covered in cracks of glowing lava, his scorched flesh peeling away like burnt paper, exposing searing veins of molten rock underneath.

A walking volcano in human form.

Ali reached out with the Force, attempting to seize control of his body—

But he felt nothing.

'His defences are strong... interesting!'

'Force Push.'

VOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM

A violent gust of invisible power exploded forward, sending a wave of sand flying into the air as it slammed into Lava Fist—

But the martial artist didn't budge.

Not even an inch.

"I burned everything," Lava Fist said, his voice eerily calm, his molten-red fists clenching tightly. "Every single point I had in Spirit—l've sacrificed it all."

He looked down at his hands, his fingers glowing a dangerous, pulsing red, the sheer heat distorting the air around him.

"I destroyed my future, my body, my soul-all of it."

His face contorted with pain, but his eyes remained sharp, filled with unwavering determination.

"Just to kill you."

Ali said nothing.

Instead, he raised both hands.

Two black Desert Eagles materialised in his grip.

BANG. BANG. BANG. BANG.

Four bullets tore through the air, each one hitting Lava Fist's face directly—

Only for his magma-like flesh to regenerate instantly, the molten rock melding back into shape, as if the bullets had never even touched him.

"You see now?" Lava Fist let out a guttural laugh, his voice filled with fire and fury.

"You. Can't. Beat. Me."

Then, he charged.

Ali watched as Lava Fist ran toward him, each step melting the very sand beneath his feet, the sheer heat rolling off his body like the breath of an erupting volcano.

All smirked.

'Most likely he can only hold this form for a short time, maybe a couple minutes…'

He stored his guns back into the interface.

'Might as well have some fun first.'

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