Kael once again grasped the essence and profundity of the fire element. His body seemed to transform into a living flame, the air around him warping under the scorching intensity of fire energy—its terrifying power laid bare.
Fire was violent, relentless, omnipresent—capable of reducing the world to ashes and devouring the heavens themselves.
A pulse thrummed in Kael's chest, as if he had truly become one with the element. His blood, skin, even the finest pores of his body now thrummed with fire energy. Yet paradoxically, he felt no searing heat.
He was fire, and fire was him. How could flame burn itself?
Kael's eyes snapped open.
"Success!" He rose to his feet, his gaze sharp as an unsheathed blade—a divine weapon unveiled after centuries of slumber, its edge dazzling.
"I've achieved complete fusion with the fire element. Now, I can wield all flame in this world as my own. My strength has reached the peak of the tenth tier, verging on the eleventh." As he murmured this, the two Crimsonflame Bloodblooms in his hands began to dissipate.
These blooms were the purest condensations of fire energy. Having surrendered their essence to Kael, their purpose was fulfilled, their forms gradually scattering into the world like motes of dust.
Even in the Earthfire Cavern, such treasures took a decade to form—vanishingly rare. Watching them fade, Kael felt a pang of reverence.
With fire now fully integrated, his very aura had transformed. But mastery required consolidation, and he still needed time to stabilize his breakthrough.
Fortunately, nearly two days remained before his duel with Einar. Time enough.
Kael closed his eyes, sinking back into meditation.
"This early?" Kael glanced at the sky, still shrouded in predawn gloom. Were they really rushing into battle at such an hour?
Zorath the Silent snorted. "Don't even ask. Those sanctimonious old fools from the Temple have been stirring trouble all morning. The Grand Speaker decided we should head to the island's center now. But seeing you puts my mind at ease—your strength has clearly grown these past three days. You'll handle Einar without issue."
Annoyance laced his words. The morning had been peaceful until the abrupt mobilization order, prompting him to fetch Kael immediately.
Kael nodded and followed Zorath to the Grand Speaker's command tent.
Outside, over a dozen high-ranking members of the Sacred Council had already gathered, waiting in formation.
Soon, the Grand Speaker emerged. Adorned in a golden crown and flowing robes, his every step exuded a pressure that made the air itself feel heavier. His aura was oceanic—unfathomable, boundless.
His gaze swept the assembly, lingering briefly on Kael before he spoke, his voice calm yet commanding:
"By decree: the Twelve Councilors shall deploy. Form the Celestial Mechanism Array. We advance to the island's heart."
The moment the order left his lips, the twelve councilors moved as one. Their positions aligned with precision, each step resonating with an esoteric rhythm. Magic and battle aura intertwined overhead, reshaping the surroundings—trees and brush vanished, replaced by a seamless path forward.
Kael's eyes narrowed. This "Celestial Mechanism Array" rivals even Lone Wolf's Ancient Octad Formation in complexity. Both are inscrutable.
Then, a chariot soared from the tent—a vessel of burnished gold, regal beyond measure. It was drawn by a black drake, its roars shaking the earth.
This creature was no mere beast. A tenth-tier magical creature at minimum, its draconic bloodline seemed pure, rivaling even true dragons.
Kael's interest sharpened. In all his time in this world, he'd yet to encounter a dragon. Rumors claimed even the weakest among them possessed tenth-tier strength. A pity he'd never had the chance to witness one firsthand.
"Grand Speaker, please board the Dragon Chariot!" The twelve councilors boomed in unison, their voices resonating like thunder.
The Grand Speaker ascended the chariot with measured steps. The vehicle was massive—easily accommodating twenty to thirty people. His gaze flicked to Kael. "Kael, join me."
"My gratitude, Grand Speaker!" Kael swiftly boarded, the little cat perched on his shoulder, observing the spectacle with keen interest yet uncharacteristic silence.
Onlookers watched with barely concealed envy. For Kael to ride the Dragon Chariot alongside the Grand Speaker spoke volumes about the leader's regard for him.
"Advance!"
At the Grand Speaker's command, the twelve councilors took their positions at the forefront. Ahead of them materialized a thousand-strong knight order, each warrior a seasoned expert clad in formidable armor. Their synchronized march sent tremors through the ground, the sheer scale of the procession awe-inspiring.
The sight set Kael's blood aflame.
If only the armies of the Ryfei Territory could muster such might—the thought alone electrified him!
With a sweep of draconic wings, they reached the island's heart in moments.
The knights cleared the terrain, carving a straight path to the central arena—a vast clearing spanning kilometers, perfect for combat.
Kael's eyes swept the surroundings. Beyond the Sacred Council's contingent, representatives from other factions had gathered, though their entourages paled in comparison.
The Crystal Spire. The Emerald Tower. Redmoon City. Kael noted these legendary powers, heart stirred by the historic convergence. Such a grand assembly of forces is a spectacle unto itself.
His gaze then landed on familiar faces—Ethan, Dylan, and others who'd been at Thousand Moon Lake's periphery but now stood among the spectators. Kael greeted them with a smile.
Yet before exchanges could continue, a voice like rolling thunder cut through the air:
"Grand Speaker! Have you finally deigned to honor our challenge?"
Kael turned. At the left flank stood a white-robed elder, his face lined with age but eyes blazing with authority. The sheer weight of his presence pressed down like a physical force, his baritone voice resonating like a tolling bell—commanding, undeniable.
Behind the elder stood rows of white-robed mages, their postures reverent.
The elder's identity was unmistakable—this was the Pontiff of the Temple!
Though his face bore the marks of age, his eyes burned with sharp intensity as they locked onto the Grand Speaker.
Berg, the Grand Speaker, rose from the Dragon Chariot. A faint smile played on his lips as he met the Pontiff's gaze. The moment their eyes connected, the very air seemed to freeze.
Tension plummeted to an icy nadir. The auras of these two paramount figures clashed invisibly, pressing down on the crowd like an invisible hand. Even the strongest among them felt their breath hitch under the weight.
Damn it—just their presence alone is suffocating!
The standoff between their energies hung in the air. Those of lesser strength gasped for air, their bodies trembling, knees buckling. Kael fared better, managing to withstand the pressure, though his expression tightened.
After a long moment, the Pontiff suddenly laughed, his piercing gaze shifting to Kael. A gleam of interest flashed in his eyes.
"So, you are the Sacred Council's champion?"
"I am." Kael stood, meeting the Pontiff's eyes without submission or defiance.
The Pontiff threw his head back in laughter. "Good! A fine young talent indeed. Einar! Your opponent has arrived. Won't you come and greet him?!"
No sooner had his voice faded than a figure emerged from the crowd, stepping forward to stand at the Pontiff's side.