Chapter 699: White Death vs Old Man Burning Cloud
"Whatever the case, Old Man Burning Cloud is without a doubt countless times stronger than Roger. I refuse to believe someone like him could lose to White Death," someone else said confidently, arms crossed as they stared at the screen.
Another voice chimed in, more cautious but filled with speculation. "White Death uses black flames... same as those from the declining Black Lotus Guild. But this one’s different. Look at him—he doesn’t carry the aura of a Black Lotus member. They rarely show themselves, let alone cause a spectacle. And Old Man Burning Cloud has walked the path of flames for thousands of years... there’s no way this masked upstart can out-burn him."
"I don’t know..." a quieter voice muttered. "White Death is... strange. After what he did to Roger, nothing about him seems ordinary. His mask—plain, blank, no features—it’s like he doesn’t want to be known. Or maybe... he wants the world to fear what they can’t know."
As the crowd argued and guessed, breaths held and theories flung, the battlefield flared to life. The flames around them shifted as the two figures—one ancient and blazing, the other young and silent—finally moved.
And just like that, the battle between Old Man Burning Cloud and White Death began.
"Kid, it’s your doom to find me as your opponent!" Old Man Burning Cloud roared with maniacal laughter, baring his yellowed teeth like a beast unchained. His eyes glowed with savage delight, and his aura flared like a raging volcano.
Without hesitation, he drew an old, scorched sword from his back. The moment it left its sheath, flames coiled around the blade, dancing wildly, eager to burn the world itself. With a sudden motion, he slashed at Max.
WHOOSH!
A red arc of blinding flame burst forth, cutting through the air with terrifying force. It wasn’t just fire—it was pressure, heat, and destruction condensed into a single strike.