Chapter 53: Chapter 53
"The energy of this eighteenth level of the demon sealing cave is abundant," Ash Burn’s voice echoed calmly from below.
"You need not worry, young one. There is enough flame energy here to sustain your practice for a year and a half. Moreover, thanks to the formation’s restrictions, the flame released by Azraeth cannot be re-absorbed."
"That’s wonderful!" Ethan’s laughter rang loud, sharp and deliberate.
He laughed loudly not just in joy, but intentionally to poke and rile the temper of Azraeth below.
"Boy, you are too arrogant!" came the snarling voice of the demon lord.
"What’s wrong with arrogance?" Ethan retorted coolly.
"If you dare kill me amidst these formations, then do it! But I don’t believe you can."
"Ha! For centuries none have dared such insolence. Prepare yourself — I’ll make you regret this!" Azraeth roared.
Suddenly, Ethan felt the power of the flames surge from below, a raging inferno climbing through the earth.
The demon intended to smother Ethan in a torrent of flame, hoping to reduce him to ashes. To the thousands of cultivators under the Void Amalgamation Realm, such a fate would be swift and final.
But for Ethan — the endless trials of body refining, the blue flame within, the fiery defenses — rendered him near impervious.
Azraeth’s grand assault faltered.
Yet Ethan knew the demon’s mind all too well.
If Azraeth witnessed him here, unscathed, the old demon would restrain his power — denying him access to vital flame energy.
Ethan would be trapped, unable to advance.
He had to act.
Feigning exhaustion, he clenched his teeth and grimaced, wincing with agony as if barely holding on.
Letting his breath catch in a tortured gasp, he sent up a signal through the haze: soon, he would collapse.
This was the trap — to draw Azraeth’s giant into a false sense of dominance, to trick the aged lord into overextending.
An audacious gamble, but one the young cultivator was willing to make.
"Heh, the Black Demon Sect’s pride has been asleep for too long," a sultry voice hissed below.
"This nameless human child dares to mock me?"
"You will regret the insult," Azraeth V’khorath promised darkly.
Though superior in strength and experience, Azraeth had never faced such arrogance from a mere human youngling.
His pride bristled with barely concealed rage.
He saw potential in Ethan — dangerous potential, limitless potential, the kind that could shatter dynasties and sects alike.
"If I can strike him down now, before he awakens fully, then I clear the path for the resurgence of my black demon clan," thought the demon fiercely.
Inflicting even partial damage would stall Ethan’s growth — a victory in itself.
As the infernal energy surged, so too did the resentment of centuries past.
Ethan sensed the caloric tide intensify, the chamber around him transformed into a boiling cauldron, a sauna of fire and brimstone.
Each breath grew measured, each inhalation an inward fortitude.
Though scalding, his body endured, bolstered by flames of his own making.
His resolve sharpened beneath the burgeoning heat.
Yet the flames tested him deeply — overwhelm was a constant threat.
Grinding teeth, he forced himself onward.
Azraeth’s laughter echoed within his mind, caustic and triumphant.
"Is this your limit, little mortal?"
"Then face the full might of my spirit!"
Suddenly, the cavern quaked violently, the magnitude of power pressed hard upon the foundations of the sealing formations.
Ethan’s breath hitched; every bone and muscle trembled beneath the pressure.
Though the sacred seals held fast, their boundaries were strained to near breaking.
"Its fury is terrifying," Ethan admitted silently.
In those moments, the weight of his years and efforts seemed humbled, dwarfed by unfathomable age and power.
He could feel the vast gulf — a chasm in strength yet to cross.
Azraeth’s voice taunted bitterly.
"But will you endure? That is yet to be seen."
Suddenly, Azraeth’s voice lowered, speaking plainly:
"You test me, I am in a realm beyond your reach. What foolishness — or courage — drives you?"
Ash Burn’s calm voice returned, full of insight:
"Maintain your course, Ethan. Use this as a gift, an opportunity to dance with fire and steal wisdom from its burning heart."
Pooling courage from hidden reserves, Ethan refined his plan.
He would master his inner streams, feeding off the delicate balance of absorption and restraint.
Tread lightly between flame’s fury and his own enduring flesh.
Battle on two fronts — absorbing the blue phoenix’s strength, while fending off the relentless inferno.
Observing his dual tasks, the complexity strained mental faculties beyond most.
Still, through sheer force of will, Ethan pressed forward.
Suddenly, he screamed — a primal howl breaking the silence — and lunged forward in meditation.
His eyes snapped open, wild and bloodshot, pupils dilated to their fullest.
The stark visage of a warrior ablaze with power and defiance.
"Tell me, boy — how does it feel to burn with spiritual fire?"
"You will soon know torment beyond imagining," hissed Azraeth, voice thick with malevolence.
He summoned his full strength, channeling all the remaining power of his might into the burning depths below.
Yet much of his power was dedicated to binding the immense energies and restriction, keeping them channeled through the ancient formations and the immortal artifact.
Without these safeguards, his wrath would consume all — even himself.
Time bled onward.
Ethan’s form grew gaunt, wearied by endless flame and burning spirit.
"Such skill," Azraeth V’khorath whispered, "yet he grows fragile."
"I doubt his limits allow further practicce," Azraeth continued.
Ethan’s pace slowed, yet interest never waned.
His refusal to collapse spoke volumes — he now fought more by will than body alone.
Azraeth’s fury escalated, pounding against seals with titanic assault.
The demons’ breath grew hotter, the sauna became a crucible of flame and spirit.
Yet Ethan’s keen mind weaved subtle tapestries — playing on Azraeth’s expectations, manipulating flow and rate of absorption.
Feigning near collapse was a calculated gambit — to coax greater output from the demon below.
A delicate balance of pain and perception, of light and shadow.
Ethan’s thought whispered in the void: patience.
The ember of demise and rebirth.