Hellbound: Rebirth Of The Strongest Slayer.-Chapter 35: Uncontrollably fire

Chapter 35

The destruction caused by Iscaris was absolute.

Deadly. Relentless.

It did not stop at a few cities. It swallowed every city under the Kingdom of Rugraiy, one after another, turning them into oceans of flame and ash.

And then it spread.

What was once contained erupted outward, crossing borders, crashing into neighboring kingdoms as the Fryborn flames poured across the land like a curse unleashed upon the era.

Lucky citizens fled early, abandoning homes, families, histories. They ran before the flames reached them.

The unlucky ones stayed.

The stubborn ones believed they could stop it.

They did not even get the mercy of a scream.

They did not pray.

They vanished, burned to nothing in an instant.

Dread consumed the world.

Absolute terror followed.

And in the middle of it all, baby Vastor watched.

He gurgled. He chuckled.

An innocent sound, twisted beyond reason.

If anyone had been sane enough to judge him, they would not have called him cute. They would have called him a devil.

But even that was beneath him.

Devils did not deserve his name.

Usurper was better.

Destroyer was more fitting.

Vastor continued enjoying the chaos until something shifted.

Something went wrong.

A sudden dizziness hit him. His strength vanished like smoke. The red glow in his eyes faded, and his consciousness began slipping away.

Damn it.

How could I forget?

The soul energy he had forcibly torn open through rage was sealing itself again. The summoning matrix followed, locking shut as well.

Power drained from him.

He was returning to weakness.

Utter weakness.

The energy required to summon Iscaris was finally taking its toll, dragging his consciousness into the abyss.

His eyelids drooped.

No. This is bad.

He wanted more.

More screams. More fire.

But the matrix was closing, and once the link collapsed, Iscaris would be ejected from this world as well. Vastro was the anchor, and the anchor was failing.

Before unconsciousness claimed him completely, Vastro pushed out one final command through their bond.

Protect them.

Those humans.

With that, he fell into a deep slumber.

Iscaris stopped mid-motion.

Until now, he had been watching the human pests with cold fury. How dare they touch the Lord. Damaging even a single hair would justify erasing this entire realm.

But the Lord’s command had been clear.

Destroy the settlements.

And so he did.

Then the final order reached him.

Without hesitation, Iscaris moved.

In a blur of speed, he healed the two injured humans, flooding their broken bodies with controlled flame energy. With another surge, he teleported them far away, deep into safe lands untouched by destruction.

He did not stop there.

He remove the impurities in their bodies, stabilizing their cores.

With their foundations cleansed, their cultivation speed would increase.

They would be stronger.

They would be able to protect the Lord better.

As Iscaris hovered in the air, he sensed it.

The Lord’s aura was fading. Weak. Distant.

Yet instead of fear, Iscaris felt something else rise within him.

Iscaris could sense it.

For some reason, the Lord was frail now. Weak. Fading.

Yet instead of his reverence lessening, it deepened.

If anything, it grew heavier.

The Lord had reached the peak long ago. And now, after attaining everything, he chose to descend as a mortal and conquer the Eight Realms once more. This time in a human vessel.

Only the Lord would think of something like that.

Only the Lord could accomplish it.

Iscaris smiled faintly and bowed before the sleeping baby.

"I have fulfilled the task, my Lord. Be safe."

His body began to blur, turning translucent, almost ghostlike.

But it was not death.

It was rejection.

He had suppressed his presence for as long as he could. This realm could not bear his existence. He was far beyond its laws, far beyond its tolerance. The only reason he had not been forcefully expelled was the anchor of the Lord’s soul and his own will. 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝐰𝚎𝕓𝐧𝚘𝘃𝗲𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝕞

Now the anchor was gone.

If he stayed, the realm itself would destabilize.

So he let go.

Iscaris vanished, leaving behind scars carved into the very fabric of the world.

Meanwhile, the fire did not stop.

The chaos he left behind spread endlessly, rolling across kingdoms, devouring lands, cities, histories. The flames crossed borders and surged toward distant empires, their crimson glow staining the horizon.

Soon, even the Great Kingdom of Ardentia could no longer ignore it.

Minutes later, several powerful figures appeared above the spreading inferno. The flames had slowed, but not enough.

If nothing was done, several more kingdoms would be erased before sunrise.

"What should we do?" one of them asked, eyes narrowing as he studied the crimson lines stretching across the land.

From this height, it looked beautiful.

They all knew better.

"What else can we do?" another expert replied coldly. "End it. That is the Emperor’s order."

Without hesitation, he closed his eyes and gathered his mana.

Power surged. Energy converged.

He released a massive spell.

Dark clouds swallowed the sky. Thunder roared. A violent storm descended, torrents of water crashing down with the intent to drown the flames.

The moment water touched fire, the expert’s expression froze.

The flames did not weaken.

They roared louder.

They grew stronger.

They spread faster.

The expert’s face changed. "How do you extinguish a fire that rejects even my strongest water spell?"

"Let me try," another expert said.

He had handsome jet black hair and eyes sharp with confidence. He activated his innate ability, his hands glowing with piercing red light.

The flames below responded.

They moved.

They surged toward him in waves, flooding into his body.

His face twisted in pain.

The plan was simple. Absorb the flames.

Refine them. Strengthen himself.

But the moment the fire entered him, his body convulsed.

Energy went berserk.

The flames were not power.

They were judgment.

He barely managed to expel the energy outward before it killed him, but the damage was already done.

He collapsed midair, smoke pouring from his body, unconscious like burnt flesh left too long on a flame.

Silence followed.

Smoke rose from his body like a smoked fish.

The remaining experts stared, their expressions finally breaking.

Those two were already among the strongest experts in the entire Great Kingdom of Ardentia. And yet before these flames, they were nothing.

Then how were they supposed to stop this fire from spreading.

They still tried.

One expert unleashed a powerful sword technique that split the sky clouds apart and struck straight into the inferno. It carved thin lines through the flames.

They closed instantly.

He tried again.

And again.

By the third attempt, his body trembled violently. Blood leaked from his mouth. He nearly died from energy exhaustion.

Another expert attempted a different approach. He moved closer, trying to study the flame’s composition, to trace its origin, to understand it.

The moment he got too close, the fire reacted.

It dragged him in.

He did not even get to scream.

His body burned to a crisp before any of the others could react.

Silence followed.

Hours passed.

The experts floated above the blazing furnace, eyes hollow, hearts sinking. They could not contain it. They could not stop it.

Maybe they needed more experts.

But even that hope died quickly.

Many of the strongest figures were already tied down, guarding borders, sealing calamities, handling crises of their own.

Just as despair settled completely, a presence descended.

Before anyone could react, a young man appeared in the air.

He looked to be in his twenties, dressed neatly and elegantly, his posture relaxed yet commanding.

The experts stiffened, then bowed deeply.

"Your Highness."

Prince Ragnar.

Second prince of Ardentia.

Rumored to be the fourth strongest expert in the entire kingdom.

Ragnar gave a brief nod and turned his gaze to the spreading flames. Just one glance was enough.

Whatever technique had conjured this was close to divine.

He had never seen destruction of this scale before.

To create something like this would require multiple figures brushing against the upper realms.

That was what he believed.

If he knew the truth, that this was nothing more than a casual act from a being not even trying, he might not have stood so calmly.

If Iscaris had poured even a little more power into it, the entire continent would already be ash.

But the Lord had ordered restraint.

So restraint it was.

"These flames," Ragnar said calmly, eyes sharp. "They are extremely strong."

The experts felt their hearts tighten.

"But they are not something I cannot handle."

Relief flooded them instantly.

Ragnar rose higher into the sky, his hair whipping violently in the air, lightning beginning to crackle around him.

"Since water cannot suppress it," he said softly, power surging. "Then I will fight fire with lightning."

The sky answered.

To be continued.....

Hey everyone don’t forget the mass release goal.

200 Power stones give birth to one extra chap.

100 collection give birth to one extra chap.

10+ reviews give birth to one extra chap.

Vote and support the story.

It fuels the journey.

Hey everyone don’t forget the mass release goal.

200 Power stones give birth to one extra chap.

100 collection give birth to one extra chap.

10+ reviews give birth to one extra chap.

Vote and support the story.

It fuels the journey.