When Alex stepped into Malik's dome of heat, the world seemed to bend.
A visible shimmer rippled outward from where his body crossed the threshold, distorting the space around him like glass warping under pressure. The battlefield pulsed. Stone groaned beneath rising temperature, ambient mana curled into tongues of flame, and the very air thickened into a suffocating, volatile deathtrap.
Everyone watching knew what was supposed to happen next.
They had seen it before.
Vess had taken a single step into that radius, and her downfall had been immediate. Her vines—sharp, fast, relentless—had turned to ash before even brushing Malik's skin. Her bark had split. Her roots had boiled. Her body had collapsed into ruin.
So as Alex approached the range of Malik's dome, the audience braced for combustion.
But it never came.
He didn't stop moving.
Didn't slow down.
His cloak didn't smolder.
His boots didn't melt.
He didn't even spill a drop of sweat.
Even the ground beneath his feet—once warped and bubbled under Vess's weight—remained perfectly solid beneath his stride.
He moved like a phantom across molten stone.
Untouched.
Unbothered.
Unburned.
Like he was untouchable.
The crowd leaned forward, eyes wide, unable to understand what they were seeing. No enchantments flared around him. No defensive runes pulsed. Nothing about him screamed resistance—yet he walked through hellfire as if it were a morning fog. Searᴄh the NovelZone.fun website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.
None in the crowd could see the reason why.
But the truth was simple.
He possessed the passive S-rank ability:
[Eternal Flame Sovereign].
A crown of immunity.
It didn't just allow him to resist flame—it allowed him to absorb it. In his presence, fire became a lie. Anything born of combustion—heat, blaze, inferno—ceased to matter. The moment it touched him, it died.
This wasn't just immunity.
It was a hard counter.
Alex had known from the beginning.
When he first saw Malik, when he first felt the heat, he'd smiled inwardly, realizing that out of all the powerful players in this tournament, the demon, feared by the others, might've been the easiest to kill.
Because he possessed [Eternal Flame Sovereign]
And so far, there was no reason for him to doubt that reasoning.
Malik didn't understand.
Neither did the audience.
Not yet anyways.
The demon's expression shifted from aggression to confusion. He scanned Alex's body—top to bottom—searching for the source of this resistance. There were no cloaks, no visible relics, no signs of protective magic.
Just Alex.
Still standing.
Still advancing.
Whether it was natural or skill-based, it didn't matter.
Malik now knew it wouldn't be easy.
And that made it worth it.
His voice dropped low, gravel thick with smoldering intensity.
"You're not like the others," he said. "Defeating you will be my redemption."
Alex's reply came casual. Cruel.
"If you keep throwing those weak-ass punches, you're not even gonna touch redemption."
The words were surgical.
Sharp.
A verbal slap dressed as indifference.
Malik's eye twitched.
The crowd's doubts, the echoes of whispered disappointment, the silent weight of Kael's gaze—they all crashed into him at once.
Something inside Malik snapped.
With a snarl, he launched forward.
BOOM.
Flame erupted from his limbs like jet propulsion. He blurred across the field in a streak of red and gold, closing the distance in a heartbeat. Fire coiled around his fists—condensed, refined, miniaturized suns that distorted the air around them.
Then—he struck.
One punch.
Then two.
Then five.
He unleashed a barrage, each blow a detonation, each swing a meteor. The ground cracked beneath them, fracturing in violent spiderwebs as Malik rained flame-forged fury down on his enemy.
The audience held its breath.
Then blinked.
Because Alex…
Didn't raise his arms.
Didn't parry.
Didn't block.
He flowed.
He weaved.
Each movement minimal, precise—slipping past each strike with the elegance of a dancer tracing a memorized rhythm. His movements were economical, effortless, efficient.
Because to him, it was memorized.
He was using [Godeyes].
His vision expanded. Time slowed. Every micro-movement from Malik—every shift in weight, every roll of the shoulder, every flick of flame—registered instantly. The system fed him paths, probabilities, counters. To Alex, Malik's assault looked like choreographed theater.
Every blow missed.
Every strike passed through air.
Until one didn't.
Malik's fist collided square with Alex's chest.
WHHHMM.
A golden shimmer exploded across Alex's torso—an interlocking web of hexagonal light.
A divine shield.
The impact froze.
Time froze.
The glow faded as fast as it had come.
Alex remained still.
Unharmed.
Malik stepped back, eyes wide.
"What…?"
Alex's gaze sharpened.
[Aegis Arcane].
More than a barrier—a skin.
A second layer of armor invisible to the eye, silent until struck.
And it retaliated.
"Your turn," Alex whispered.
FULL COUNTER.
Malik's own power twisted—caught in the shield's arcane web and hurled back with double the force. The fiery impact transformed into a kinetic bomb.
BOOOOM!
Malik flew.
The blast launched him across the arena. His arms flailed too late, his body skidding backward with force that carved deep molten trenches into the ground. He landed hard, one knee down, one hand bracing against shattered stone.
Smoke curled off his chest.
Silence.
Then—
The arena roared.
A scream of disbelief.
A cry of awe.
This wasn't the slow death Vess had suffered.
This was warfare.
Real combat.
And it had only just begun.
Alex didn't move.
Didn't press the advantage.
He adjusted his collar, then placed his hands in his pockets, like the last exchange was barely worth noticing.
That infuriated Malik.
The crowd was stunned.
Who was this human?
How was he standing in the middle of Malik's hell—and looking bored?
Malik stood slowly, his expression devoid of emotion.
Then he raised his arms, and the entire arena lit up.
FWWWWWWOOOOOOM!
His flames were no longer passive.
No longer composed.
Malik unleashed.
White-hot flame erupted in columns around him, rising like divine punishment. The heat turned brutal. Absolute. The stone beneath him liquefied. Air turned orange. The protective barrier above the crowd shimmered, strained, warping under the sheer pressure.
Malik wasn't holding back anymore.
And Alex was elated.
This was what he wanted.
He stepped forward, and the flames parted for him like he was walking through smoke.
There were numerous abilities he possessed and hadn't used yet.
Now he was ready to try them all.
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