The Hero Returns with his Yandere Wife-Chapter 28 - 27

Ryn's flames roared around him, twisting and surging as though they were alive, a living inferno that danced across his blood-streaked skin, their heat seeping deep into his bones, igniting a primal thrill he hadn't felt in a decade—not since the days when he'd burned through legions of foes with nothing but fire and fury to guide him.

The top floor of the hospital trembled beneath his feet, the cracked tiles groaning under the weight of his presence, as a horde of grunts flooded the stairway like a tide of vermin, their weapons glinting menacingly in the dim, flickering light—swords, clubs, and axes, primitive tools that betrayed their lack of true power.

Their faces twisted with bloodlust, eyes wild and mouths curled into snarls, but something about them was off—Ryn could sense it in the air, in the way they moved, these weren't true supervillains, not the titans who'd once challenged him with world-shaking might; they were cannon fodder, weaklings armed with blades and blunt objects, no match for a man whose very soul burned with the fire of a hundred suns.

Ryn raised his hand, flames coiling around his fingers like serpents, and unleashed a wave of fire that roared toward them like a blazing tsunami, a wall of searing heat and light that promised to reduce them to ash before they could even scream.

But just before the flames could consume them, a shimmering, transparent shield materialized out of nowhere, blocking the attack with an eerie, unnatural stillness—a barrier of pure energy that stood defiant against his onslaught.

The fire slammed into the shield, hissing and crackling as the barrier glowed red-hot from the relentless heat, the air warping around it, but the grunts stood still, unshaken, their confidence a smug shield of its own as they waited for the flames to dissipate, their weapons gleaming in anticipation.

When the shield cooled and vanished, fading into the ether like a mirage, they charged forward with a collective roar, their footsteps pounding the floor in a chaotic rhythm that echoed through the hallway.

Ryn's black eyes narrowed, the inferno reflected in their depths sharpening as he muttered under his breath, "A shield manipulator... hiding among them," his voice a low growl of realization, his mind racing to pinpoint the source of this unseen power.

He launched another burst of fire, aiming for the front line with precision, the flames surging forth in a torrent of destruction—but the shield flickered into existence again, absorbing the heat with a crimson glow that pulsed like a heartbeat, fading only when the attack subsided, leaving the grunts unscathed and emboldened.

Ryn clenched his jaw, the muscles in his face tightening with frustration—the invisible protector was smart, staying hidden among the rabble, granting these weaklings an impenetrable defense that mocked his power, a coward's trick that fueled the rage simmering in his chest.

The horde advanced, closing the distance with a reckless hunger, their weapons raised high, and Ryn's flames lashed out once more, a desperate bid to break through—but each time, the shield emerged, a shimmering wall that rendered his fire useless, taunting him with its resilience.

The grunts closed in, their blades and clubs gleaming, their shouts a cacophony of violence.

Ryn abandoned his fire, the heat retreating into his core as he flexed his hands, his resolve hardening—he would tear them apart with his bare hands if he had to.

The first grunt swung a rusted axe, its edge jagged and hungry for flesh—Ryn ducked low, his reflexes a blur as he grabbed the man's wrist and twisted it violently, the bones snapping with a sickening crunch that reverberated through the corridor, the weapon clattering to the ground as the grunt's scream was cut short.

Ryn drove his knee into the man's stomach with a force that sent him flying backward, crashing into the others like a bowling pin, their formation staggering as bodies collided and curses filled the air.

A hammer-wielding thug charged from the left, his massive weapon swinging in a brutal arc meant to crush Ryn's skull—Ryn sidestepped with a dancer's grace, catching the handle mid-swing, flames surging up his arm in a sudden flare as he melted the metal to slag, the molten remains dripping to the floor as he delivered a fiery punch to the grunt's chest, the impact sending him skidding across the tiles with a groan, his armor smoking and his ribs shattered.

But as Ryn advanced, another shield flared to life, a translucent wall that blocked his next strike, the force of his fist reverberating back through his arm with a dull thud—he gritted his teeth, frustration boiling into fury, and launched into a brutal hand-to-hand battle, weaving between attacks with a predator's instinct.

He broke bones with savage precision—snapping an arm here, crushing a throat there, shattering ribs with a single, flame-wreathed blow—each grunt falling like a ragdoll, their bodies crumpling to the floor in twisted heaps, their blood and sweat splattering the tiles in a grotesque mosaic of his wrath.

The shields kept flashing, erratic and unpredictable, slowing his progress as they absorbed his strikes, but Ryn pressed on relentlessly, his breath ragged, his muscles screaming, leaving a trail of broken bodies in his wake—ten, twelve, fifteen, the numbers blurring as he carved through them with the axe when fists weren't enough, its blade singing through flesh and bone.

One by one, the grunts fell, their cries fading into silence, their weapons clattering uselessly to the ground—until only a single cloaked figure remained, standing alone amidst the carnage, a shadow against the flickering light.

Ryn stepped forward, flames crackling from his fingertips, the heat pulsing in time with his heartbeat as he lunged, throwing a devastating punch aimed at the cloaked figure's head, the air igniting around his fist with a roar of intent.

The strongest shield yet manifested, translucent and pulsing with energy, a barrier that shimmered like liquid glass—Ryn's fist slammed into it, sending a ripple through the air that shook the walls, but the shield held firm, unyielding against his raw power.

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The cloaked figure dodged his next strike with inhuman agility, evading each blow with a precision that mocked his efforts, their movements a blur of shadow and grace that stoked the fire in Ryn's chest to a blazing inferno.

Ryn's fury burned hotter, a wildfire raging within him as he roared, "Come out and fight me!" his voice echoing through the hallway, a challenge that demanded an answer, a call to end this game of cat and mouse.

The cloaked figure halted, their silhouette still for a moment, and with a soft sigh that cut through the tension like a whisper of wind, the cloak slipped from their shoulders and pooled at their feet, revealing the truth beneath.

A young woman stood before Ryn, her slender frame clad in a sleek, dark outfit that hugged her form, her short silver hair shimmering in the dim light like a halo of moonlight, her pale blue eyes cold and calculating, piercing through him with a gaze that held no fear, only focus.

Her skin glowed faintly, a luminescent sheen as if the energy from her shields coursed through her veins, small cracks of light dancing along her fingertips as she raised her hands, preparing to conjure another barrier, her power a living thing that pulsed in the air around her.

Ryn's rage burned brighter, a searing heat that threatened to consume him as he surged forward, relentless in his assault, his fists and the axe hammering against her shield in a storm of violence—punch after punch, strike after strike, the barrier crackling and straining under the force of his raw, unyielding power.

The girl winced, sweat beading on her forehead, her breaths coming in sharp gasps as Ryn's strikes grew fiercer, his flames licking at the edges of her defense, the heat warping the air as the shield began to falter, its glow dimming under the onslaught.

Finally, with a thunderous crack that split the air like lightning, the shield shattered, fragments of energy dissipating into sparks that rained down around them—the girl's eyes widened in shock as Ryn's fist connected with her jaw, a brutal blow that sent her sprawling to the ground, her body skidding across the tiles with a pained grunt.

He raised his blazing hand to finish her off, the axe trembling in his grip, flames coiling around it as he prepared to end this threat once and for all—when suddenly, out of nowhere, a powerful kick slammed into his side with the force of a battering ram.