CHAPTER 161: THE LAVA THAT DEFIES

Some years later...

On a distant world bathed in flame, the planet Kronyx turned slowly beneath the weight of its triple suns. The sky was a blazing orange canvas, streaked with molten clouds, and hanging above the jagged peaks of obsidian mountains were three suns, their reflections shimmering over rivers of lava that flowed like veins through the land.

This was a planet where oceans burned instead of surged. Where lava lakes gurgled with soft, rhythmic hisses. Where humanoids of fire, the Krovekans, lived in a harmony only those born of flame could understand.

In the molten city of Zal’Torrah, spires made of blackrock towered high. On narrow bridges suspended above the lava, the Krovekans walked—fiery red and orange skin glistening, two antennae rising from their heads, sensing every heat shift in the air. The smell of sulfur and embers filled the streets like perfume.

Children with gleaming copper eyes dashed playfully between magma vents.

"Look at the sky," one of the Krovekan women said softly, lifting her head. Her eyes shimmered with curiosity.

"The third sun is fully visible today... It’s rare."

She stood still, mesmerized by the celestial alignment. The other Krovekans glanced upward, smiles forming. It was considered a good omen.

Then—

A shadow fell over the square.

Children stopped mid-play. Conversations broke. The air—hot and dry—suddenly felt heavier, darker.

Hovering above them, cloaked in a dark aura, was a man. His presence didn’t belong. His skin wasn’t born of flame, nor his soul. A dark general descended with a slow flap of blackened, ash-forged wings, his armor adorned with symbols none recognized—symbols of Zorwath, the World-Ender.

He raised his voice, cold and hollow.

"I am the Herald of Lord Zorwath, Conqueror of Realms. Your world has caught his eye. Surrender peacefully and become part of his glorious dominion... or resist, and be buried in your own flames."

The square fell silent.

Then, before anyone could even blink—

A streak of glowing red light shot through the sky.

Like a comet from the sun itself, it pierced the air and came to a stop just above the general, floating effortlessly. Her presence burned brighter than the third sun.

Qarina.

"It’s Qarina!" one of the children gasped.

"She’s here!" shouted a young man, awe washing over his face.

An elder murmured, "The Flame Dancer herself... we are not abandoned."

She hovered like a goddess of vengeance, her staff radiating pulses of heat. Twin antennae glowed like molten gold. Lava circled her feet, levitating in a perfect ring, responding to her will. Her black and red robe clung to her elegant form, fire-stitched patterns alive with power. Her long orange hair flowed, each strand flickering like a solar flare.

She stared straight into the general’s lifeless eyes.

"Who the hell are you?" she said, voice cutting through the silence like a blade.

"You drop from the sky, spout some nonsense about surrendering to a self-proclaimed ’Lord,’ and expect us to obey like brainless slaves?" Her voice rose, filled with anger and fire. "You think we are weak? That we would kneel just because your shadow is large?"

The general’s lips curled slightly.

"Obedience to His Majesty Zorwath isn’t foolishness, it’s survival," he replied.

"Those who resist are not brave—they are extinct."

Qarina twirled her staff once.

Lava erupted from the ground, spiraling around her like a fiery halo. Her skin shimmered with molten cracks, and her eyes glowed with searing heat.

"Then prepare to burn with the rest of his filth," she hissed.

All across the square, the Krovekans began to stir.

From the glowing lava pools, ancient flame guardians emerged — towering beasts sculpted from magma and fire, their bodies trailing embers with every movement. Buildings shifted, retracting into the earth to reveal underground war caverns, where lava-forged weapons floated into the hands of the warriors.

A single Krovekan child clenched his fist and whispered,

"We’re not afraid... not with Qarina here."

But the man in black armor — the General of Zorwath — didn’t flinch.

He chuckled, slow and cold.

"You dare summon flames... in the presence of one who carries his majesty’s Will?"

Suddenly, the air twisted. A dark aura exploded from his body.

The sky turned a deeper crimson, and the environment itself grew heavier — thicker.

Birds fell mid-flight. The ground cracked beneath his feet. Children screamed. Elders collapsed. Weak ones... simply turned to ash.

Qarina gasped, dropping to one knee.

A crushing weight pressed her down as if the world itself wanted her head bowed.

"W-What is this...?"

The General’s voice echoed like thunder.

"A mere glimpse of Lord Zorwath’s strength."

Qarina looked up — veins of flame glowing through her cheeks, eyes now bright with rage.

"I won’t forgive you... I WON’T FORGIVE YOU!"

Her scream cracked the air.

Lava exploded beneath her feet and wrapped around her limbs like living armor. Her skin turned volcanic orange, steam rising from her shoulders. The molten magic became part of her — her hair ignited into strands of fire, and her fingers glowed with heat.

She hurled a blast of lava toward the General.

He didn’t move.

The lava hit his hand — and fizzled out with a dull hiss.

"This liquid?" he mocked. "Is that supposed to hurt me?"

Qarina screamed and charged.

Fists wrapped in lava. Fury in her heart.

She struck him. A burning fist to the chest — blocked.

Another punch. A knee. A backfist. A fiery spinning kick.

Blocked. Dodged. Deflected.

She was fast — blazing fast. But he read her like a book.

And then—

BOOM!

His fist met her ribs with a sickening crunch. She was sent flying, lava trails in her wake.

She smashed through a stone pillar, flipped through the air, and crashed through the wall of a Krovekan temple.

Silence.

Rubble shifted.

Her hand emerged.

Qarina rose again.

Her staff was cracked. Her lips bled a glowing orange liquid.

Her armor was torn, skin scorched, but her will blazed brighter than ever.

She limped forward, panting.

"You desecrated our home... hurt our people... crushed our children..."

She dragged her staff along the ground — leaving a line of lava in its wake.

"...I don’t care if you’re his champion..."

Her body surged again — flames roaring, lava veins pulsing.

"...I’LL BURN YOU DOWN!"

The General smiled. "Try."

They clashed again.

Fist met fist. Lava sprayed across buildings.

The ground melted beneath them.

The flame guardians roared and charged, but with a flick of his hand, the General unleashed a shockwave of dark fire, reducing them to slag.

But Qarina took the moment — appearing behind him.

"RAAGHHH!"

She drove her burning staff into his spine — molten flames erupting from the impact point.

The General flinched — but only for a second.

He turned with inhuman speed, grabbing her by the neck.

"You’re brave. I’ll grant you that."

He began to squeeze.

"But fire... cannot kill the void."

Suddenly—

From behind the wrecked temple, a massive volcano erupted, summoned by a final Krovekan ritual. A giant lava serpent, older than any god, rose from it — summoned by Qarina’s final blood sacrifice.

Her bleeding eyes locked onto the General’s.

"Then I’ll drown you in fire so hot even the void will scream."

And the lava serpent descended.

The general looked at the massive lava serpent roaring above him and chuckled with dark amusement.

"You have quite fascinating powers," he said, his voice layered with mockery. "But fascinating isn’t enough to survive his majesty’s wrath."

Without another word, his body began to convulse. Bones cracked and twisted, his frame expanding grotesquely. His head morphed—fur sprouting in patches—as it elongated into a monstrous blend of lion and wolf. His eyes burned with abyssal darkness. His legs reshaped, bulging with sinew, talons clawing into the molten stone beneath.

"Behold," he growled, "a mere taste... of the Void-Beast form granted by my lord."

A swirling black aura gathered around his fanged mouth, forming a concentrated sphere of dense, corrupted energy. The air vibrated violently as he opened his jaws wide and fired.

FWOOOOOSH!

The blast of pure void energy shot toward the serpent with the force of a divine cannon. The lava serpent hissed and shrieked, coiling midair to intercept. The two forces collided in a blinding explosion—flames and darkness wrestling in the sky like battling gods.

For a moment, the serpent held. But then the void began to devour it.

"No...!" Qarina gasped as the energy pierced through, unraveling the molten creature into clouds of fire and steam. She raised both arms and summoned every last drop of magma from within and below. A wall of searing heat formed before her just as the remaining void energy blasted forward.

BOOOOOOM!

The barrier shattered.

Qarina was launched backward like a comet, crashing through the cracked plaza, bouncing across the stone until she slammed into a ruined archway. Dust and debris fell around her like ash. She lay still, her staff half-buried beside her.

Her robes were torn and burned. Lava bled from the corners of her mouth, glowing orange and dripping like molten sorrow. Her skin was cracked with ember veins, her breaths shallow, her gaze trembling—but she was alive.

The general walked forward, now standing tall in his beastly form, casting a long, terrifying shadow.

"You still live? Impressive." He stopped a few feet away, voice calm but cold. "But do not mistake survival for strength. I only spared you... because my lord instructed me to keep the powerful ones alive. For now."

He looked around the silent, ruined battlefield. The Krovekans who hadn’t already fallen stared in horror, many unable to speak. Flames crackled. Ash floated in the wind.

"But mark my words," he growled, turning to address the crowd, "oppose his majesty again... and no mercy will be shown. No lava. No prayer. No guardian will save you."

Then, suddenly—

FWOOM.

A black portal tore open behind him, its swirling darkness etched with glowing infernal symbols. The general stopped mid-step and turned to kneel.

From the void, a figure emerged.

A man in flowing black robes with golden carvings shaped like celestial constellations. His movements were graceful—too graceful for the devastation around him. His face, pristine and beautiful, glowed with the soft light of an angel, but his eyes... his eyes were voids of silent, calculating cruelty.

Even the wind froze.

The very air seemed to resist moving around him.

Qarina forced herself up on one elbow, her breath catching. Her lips trembled—not from pain, but rage and fear.

"No..." she whispered. "It’s him."

The cloaked man stepped onto the battlefield like a god descending from the stars. He looked around, calm... dispassionate... until his gaze fell upon Qarina.

And he smiled.

Not a warm smile.

A silent one.

A predator’s smile.

"So this is the rebellion’s spark?" he asked softly, his voice melodic... soothing... "What a lovely flame. It’ll burn nicely... in my collection."