The sunset bled across the sky, painting the heavens in a crimson hue — as if echoing the blood dripping from Van Thien Phong's wounded arm.
Yet his expression remained calm, almost indifferent, as he stood atop the shattered ruins of the ancient arena.
Facing him was a figure clad in silver armor, radiating brilliance like a celestial being. This was Lac Thien — the so-called "Heaven's Chosen" — the very embodiment of destiny that had always oppressed the weak and trampled the rebels.
"Van Thien Phong," Lac Thien's voice echoed, righteous and cold, "You dare stand against the will of the heavens?"
Phong chuckled, low and disdainful. "The heavens?" His voice was a razor blade. "If the heavens dare to stand in my way, I will tear them apart."
A murmur rippled through the spectators. Even the ancient elders, hidden within the shadows, frowned. Such blasphemous words... no, such audacity had not been heard for centuries.
But Phong did not care.
From the moment he reincarnated into this world, he had vowed:
He would be the storm that shattered the heavens themselves.
Lac Thien's aura surged, a blinding light enveloping his body. With a flick of his wrist, a massive spear formed from pure divine energy appeared in his grasp. The ground beneath him cracked, unable to withstand the sheer force of his might.
"I shall purify this world of your existence," Lac Thien declared, his voice resonating with an unnatural authority.
Phong simply smirked.
A moment later, the dark winds began to howl around him, swirling into a maelstrom of chaotic energy.
Where Lac Thien's light sought order, Phong's darkness thrived in chaos.
"I was never meant to be part of your perfect little world," Phong said, lifting his hand. Black flames coiled around his fingers. "I am the flaw you cannot erase."
With a roar, Lac Thien lunged forward, spear thrusting toward Phong's heart.
Time seemed to slow.
Phong's eyes sharpened, the world fading away until only the silver spear and the man wielding it remained.
At the last instant, Phong stepped to the side, avoiding the fatal strike by a hair's breadth. The spear grazed his shoulder, tearing flesh, but Phong did not flinch.
Instead, his counterattack came like a viper's strike — fast, merciless, inevitable.
His black flames shot forward, twisting through the air and slamming into Lac Thien's side. The heavenly armor cracked under the impact, a spiderweb of fractures spreading across its surface.
Lac Thien stumbled, shock flashing across his face.
"You're not invincible," Phong said coldly. "You're just a puppet of fate."
Enraged, Lac Thien unleashed a barrage of spearlike thrusts, each one capable of obliterating a mountain. Yet Phong danced among them, weaving through death with a maddening grace, as if mocking the very concept of destiny.
The battlefield was reduced to chaos.
The earth split apart under the pressure of their clash. Storm clouds swirled above, gathering in an ominous spiral.
Thunder boomed.
Lightning slashed the heavens.
High above, the ancient elders watched in grim silence.
"This boy..." one elder murmured, voice trembling, "he defies the very principles upon which the heavens stand."
Another elder's face darkened. "He must not be allowed to live."
Yet none dared intervene.
For if they did, they risked exposing themselves — and drawing the chaos directly to their hidden realms.
For now, they could only watch... and wait.
Back on the battlefield, the two forces collided once more.
With a feral roar, Phong summoned a gigantic dark dragon from his black flames. It coiled above him, its crimson eyes glaring at Lac Thien with pure malice.
"You wanted a battle, didn't you?" Phong sneered. "Now drown in despair."
The dragon lunged.
Lac Thien screamed, pouring every last ounce of divine power into his spear, meeting the beast head-on.
The clash between light and darkness shook the very fabric of the world.
The arena crumbled to nothingness. Mountains in the distance shattered. Rivers reversed their flow.
Even the stars above seemed to flicker.
When the dust finally settled, a vast crater stretched out across the land.
At its center stood Van Thien Phong — battered, bloodied... but unbowed.
Lac Thien lay at his feet, broken beyond recognition, his divine armor shattered like glass.
Silence reigned.
The spectators, the hidden elders, even the heavens themselves — all were struck dumb by the scene.
A villain had triumphed over a hero.
A rebel had defied destiny.
Van Thien Phong turned slowly, his black coat whipping in the furious winds.
He looked up at the churning sky and sneered.
"Remember this day," he said, his voice low but resonating across heaven and earth, "the day a villain made the heavens bleed."
But even as he stood victorious, Phong's instincts screamed danger.
A shadow moved high above the clouds — faster than the eye could follow.
He snapped his head upward — just in time to see a figure cloaked in black, wearing a porcelain mask, descending silently.
"Interesting," the figure murmured, voice neither male nor female. "You've broken the pawn. Shall we see how you fare against the king?"
Before Phong could react, a wave of suffocating power smashed into him, sending him sprawling backward, coughing blood.
This power... it was beyond anything he had faced.
The masked figure floated down, boots barely touching the ruined ground.
"You've stirred the sleeping beasts," the figure said. "Now suffer the consequences."
Phong wiped the blood from his lips, a wild grin forming.
"Good," he rasped. "I was starting to get bored."
Black flames roared to life around him again, fiercer, darker, more unstable.
The true battle... had only just begun.
[End of Chapter 15]