Chapter 82: Evolution Island (VIII)

Luo Hanya stared in terror at the demonic figure not far away, its overwhelming presence sending shudders through him. Though only his eyes could still move, he trembled before the awe-inspiring might of this shadow. Perhaps it was the thunderous roar that shook his very being—for in the next instant, Luo Hanya felt himself hurled through the air once more, accompanied by a cascade of shattered stone.

A deafening roar split the air. The demon fixed its gaze on him, eyes blazing like twin suns. Wherever its gaze fell, rocks were seared into a hazy mist that quickly dissipated, leaving behind a layer of strange, glowing particles scattered across the ground, emitting a mysterious and ethereal radiance.

At first, Luo Hanya was stunned; in the blink of an eye, his shock turned to panic. The demonic figure was about to look in his direction! “Am I to become the second casualty in this tale?” he thought with a bitter smile. Yet now, he was nothing more than a sentient stone—perhaps of a harder substance, but in the face of such a creature, even the sturdiest rock could be obliterated in an instant.

“To survive before such a terrifying monster, one would need power at least on par with Black Crow,” Luo Hanya mused, his mind racing even as death loomed. “The dwarves said this was an ancient demon. Though its form seems far smaller than Black Crow, the force of every movement surpasses even his. Darkness spreads at its will, molten rock becomes its weapon, and its eyes are like burning suns.”

He had no time for further speculation—a searing heat assaulted him, intense and sudden. “So, I can feel it after all! Is this the moment of my death?” Luo Hanya closed his eyes, waiting for the end.

He waited in silence, only to be met with a heat so fierce it felt as though he would melt. His consciousness screamed in agony as golden-red flames invaded his mind. In a flash, he felt as if he were lost in a sea of fire—no, more precisely, as if he were a skewer of meat sizzling on a spit.

He writhed within the inferno, desperate to ease the pain, but this brought only ephemeral comfort; there was no true relief. “Ah—” Luo Hanya’s mind shrieked in torment, driven to the brink of despair, until finally he lost consciousness completely.

Yet as Luo Hanya passed out, strange changes began to unfold within his mind. A sudden flash of blood-red light rose, weaving a net of threads spun from blood itself, which blocked the golden-red flames from invading further. The flames writhed violently, like a frenzied beast, trying to burn away the barrier that halted their advance.

“Hmph!” A voice, cold and utterly devoid of emotion, rang out in Luo Hanya’s mind. “Does this paltry thing hope to break the Heavenly Net I forged through slaughter across the nine heavens and ten realms? Foolishness! Be extinguished!”

No sooner had the words been spoken than the golden-red flames began to shudder furiously, as if seized by terror of the speaker. The blood-red net pressed its advantage, surging forward the instant the flames faltered, unraveling itself into countless fine threads that coiled around the fire, intent on swallowing it whole. The flames, evidently sentient, did not submit—at a sudden surge, as though doused with fuel, a golden-red tidal wave rose within the mind.

“You—” The voice, no longer calm but tinged with anger, thundered. “Mere fire spirit, you dare defy my command and attempt a counterattack? I shall strip you of your essence and banish you to the Eighteenth Hell, where each day brings a new torment, and you shall suffer for all eternity!”

A piercing scream erupted from the flames. “Lord Flame Demon, save me! You created me, you gave me life—how can you abandon me now?”

“Insolence!” the voice responded, brimming with murderous intent. “Within my Heavenly Net, no message can pass beyond these bounds!”

“I will not accept this! Even if it means the end of my spirit, I will not be cast out by you!” the fire spirit howled in a frenzy, gathering all the golden-red flames into a single, blinding blaze—golden light dazzling, crimson burning ever brighter.

“With my essence as sacrifice!” the fire spirit cried, its voice hoarse and desperate. The flames became wildly unstable, an aura of destruction exploding from their heart, agitating them to the brink of chaos.

For a moment, it seemed as though time itself had halted; apocalyptic radiance threatened to sweep away everything in this realm, unbearably brilliant, devastatingly magnificent.

Yet the wave of destruction did not spread through the mind. The blood-red threads wrapped the world-ending light into a cocoon, allowing not a single ray to escape.

“Phew, at least nothing catastrophic happened,” the voice murmured.

The blood-red cocoon trembled, suddenly riddled with cracks. Countless golden rays, heavy with annihilation, shot toward the edges of consciousness.

“Capture!” the voice commanded, steady yet tinged with anger.

And this time, the command was absolute. All the golden light arced across the mind like streams, converging to a single point.

“Refine!” the voice intoned once more. The concentrated light shifted, then condensed into a small, dazzling golden orb.

“Forged from this light of destruction, you shall be called Gold One.” The voice, perhaps drained by its recent exertion, faded away. The mind returned to its former tranquility, as if nothing had happened. Only a wisp of blood-red flame quietly vanished, and a few seconds later, rainbow light burst forth, painting the entire space in iridescent hues. At the heart of this brilliance, a single wisp of blood-red flame, heavy with destruction, was enfolded.

“Hm? Damn it! I missed the most critical part!” The voice echoed through the mind, tinged with regret. “But, at least—”

Luo Hanya twitched his finger and, with difficulty, opened his inner senses. He felt as though he were lying on a stone cold and unyielding as iron; the chill brought a hint of comfort to his battered body. Though his senses were restored and he could move again, his entire being felt as though it had suffered severe burns—fiery pain, piercing agony, tormenting him to the core. His eyes, dull and vacant, stared at the devastation not far away. The only solace was that the demonic figure seemed to have vanished without a trace.