Chapter 239: The Seed
High above the battlefield, Lilian hovered in silence while her gaze remained fixed on the chaos below.
At first she only observed the clash between Myles and Red through the dome and sigils that was not too clear. But then a strange sensation reached her.
It was not something she saw. It pressed directly against her awareness and stirred a deeper connection that tied her to Myles.
The feeling was sharp and clear. It ran through her far stronger than anyone else present there, as if forcing her full attention onto him.
Seraphina reacted a moment later. The same disturbance brushed across her senses, it was weaker than her but still enough to catch her focus. Her brows drew together as she looked down at the battlefield with growing concern.
"Did you feel that?" Seraphina asked.
"Yes," Lilian replied with a short answer and a tight tone.
Her expression remained firm as she continued to stare downward. Her eyes appeared to follow the broken sigils and the damaged dome, but her real focus had already locked onto Myles alone.
Everything else faded from her awareness as she observed the change surrounding him.
"Something happened to him," Seraphina said again. "His power suddenly surged. That's not normal."
Lilian stayed silent. She did not rush to respond because she did not want to draw a conclusion too quickly. The change felt familiar, yet she held her thoughts back and continued to watch.
Seraphina did not remain quiet. She kept speaking as her curiosity grew stronger.
"How can he draw that much power? What kind of power is that?"
Her voice carried frustration. Her power remained restricted in this lower world just like her, and she could not fully perceive what was happening.
Lilian kept her gaze steady. A memory surfaced in her mind. She had felt this before. The moment Nadine died, Myles had shown a similar surge. The same rise in power that came from deep within him.
Her thoughts began to settle. She started to think that Myles' Seed of power was growing through suffering.
That truth did not surprise her. Across many worlds, beings had risen in the same way. Pain shaped them. Loss strengthened them.
Those who followed that path did not remain ordinary. They became figures that others feared. Their power grew unstable and overwhelming. And they became ruthless.
"Could it be… he is becoming like them?"
"What are you thinking?" Seraphina asked.
Lilian turned her head and looked at her. Seraphina saw the change in her expression. It was calm but carried weight.
"I think Myles has awakened his Seed of power further," Lilian said.
Seraphina smiled immediately. "Ha! That's good. Then we made the right choice by not interfering."
Lilian did not smile.
Another thought had already settled in her mind.
If Myles reached this state again, then it likely meant he had lost his companions.
That realization carried a quiet heaviness. When Myles returned to himself and learned that they had watched without acting, he would not accept it easily.
The thought lingered.
For a brief moment, Lilian felt a faint shiver run through her body involuntarily.
—
The battlefield below surged back into motion around him again as Myles stood at its center, wrapped in that dense black mist that no longer behaved like mere energy but like a living force bound to his body.
It clung to him as both cloak and armor, shifting with every movement while the ground beneath his feet fractured under each step as if struggling to bear his weight.
Cracks spread outward in jagged lines, and dust lifted into the air before being swallowed by the heavy pressure surrounding him.
Red steadied himself after being thrown back, his chest still aching as blood stained his lips.
The crimson aura of the Blood Sun burned fiercely around him, heat rising from his body like boiling air, yet the confidence that had anchored him before now showed the first signs of strain.
His eyes locked onto Myles again with sharper light this time but also more cautious, but not once did he step away. Instead, he tightened his grip around his purple-black short sword and leaned forward. His stance lowered as he prepared to reengage.
Then he moved.
Red lunged forward with explosive speed, his body cutting the distance through the battlefield like a streak of burning crimson as he closed the distance in an instant.
His blade moved with lethal intent, aiming directly for Myles' torso. Myles block it.
The moment their weapons met again, the clash erupted with far greater force than before. The impact rang out violently, sending shockwaves across the cracked ground beneath them.
Myles responded without hesitation.
His Fangblade moved in a sharp arc while the Noctyrix dagger followed in perfect sequence. The two weapons weave together in relentless patterns of slashes and stabs.
His movements carried unnatural speed, matching Red's acceleration without losing precision. The black mist surged around him with every strike, thickening and twisting as if feeding into his attacks.
Their blades collided again and again. Sparks burst with each impact while Ether and blood energy clashed violently between them.
Red pushed forward with power, his strikes heavy and burning with the force of his aura, while Myles met him head-on with cold and unyielding pressure.
Cuts began to appear.
Myles' blade sliced across Red's shoulder, then followed with a stab that pierced into his side. Blood spilled instantly but before it could even fall far, the wound began to close. The flesh pulled together under the influence of his power.
At the same time, Red's counterattack also carved across Myles' arm and torso, leaving deep wounds that should have slowed him.
But they didn't.
The black mist reacted immediately, sealing the damage as if the injuries never existed. His flesh also restored itself under the shifting darkness, leaving no sign of weakness behind.
Their exchange grew faster.
Neither of them slowed. Neither of them stepped back. Every clash carried more force aimed to kill, yet both continued to recover just as quickly as they were wounded.
The battlefield around them cracked further under the pressure, unable to contain the violent surge of power as the two figures moved in a relentless storm of destruction.
—
