The cacophony of screeches dwindled until everything went silent, marked by the black color finishing overtaking the red, fiery shades.
The fire itself also changed. It initially bubbled as if it were liquid, only to condense into sothing slimier, creating a mbrane-like cover over the platform.
Then, the mbrane transford again, turning gaseous and rising into the sky, revealing what had spread underneath.
There was more blackness over the platform. Actually, black was the only color. A dense gas was flowing over the stone tiles, corroding them, even dripping outside the ring’s boundaries.
Grace and the black-haired woman were both in front of those descending waves, and their survival instincts prompted a simple answer. The two jumped back before they could even study what was happening, causing a reaction in the audience.
The spectators on the lowest stands retreated, panic overriding their curiosity. If even rooting experts had felt forced to avoid the gas, they wouldn’t risk catching a single whiff of it.
But, as the panic settled and everyone arrived in safer locations, the attention moved back to the platform, to the source of that pitch-black gas, the one Lancelot had never stopped inspecting.
There on the platform, Liam stood straight and unhard, his cloak nothing more than a sleeve that reached to his right shoulder. His black trousers were miraculously intact, but the rest of him was in the open, be it his broad back, sculpted torso, and face.
And, from Liam’s mouth and nostrils, black gas still blew out, mixing with the expanding pool on the floor.
Liam had no defensive techniques, and dodging wasn’t really possible, so he had resorted to attacking, unleashing the Poisonous Breath.
Lancelot had sharp senses. His cultivation was the highest in the area, reaching levels only his talent could enable. He was also a direct descendant of the Ancestral Phoenix, so his physical prowess and abilities were far from ordinary.
So, Lancelot knew without a shadow of a doubt that the spell was deadly. Liam hadn’t rely breathed out poison. He had created a pool of death, one that Lancelot was falling into.
The black smoke started rising without the flas. Liam breathed what he had released, feeling no harm or rejuvenation. His Qi had created that poison, so he wouldn’t suffer nor benefit from it, just like with the rank 2 venom.
Lancelot just smiled, so craziness invading his face. He seed to be having the best day of his life, and Liam had every intention of ruining it.
Liam fought the urge to summon the Black Bow and swung his only sleeved arm instead. Lancelot reacted, flas escaping his figure, propelling him to his left.
The released flas opened in two spots, closing right afterward and burning sothing, but there had been a third item to Liam’s attack, and that one hit Lancelot’s right shoulder.
Lancelot frowned when he saw the tal needle on his shoulder. It was an ordinary tal item, not even a proper weapon. It barely stabbed him deep enough not to fall, not even classifying as an injury.
However, sothing only Lancelot could feel invaded him and made his eyes go wide, prompting a chant that carried a faint trace of panic. "Higher, higher, I burn through fire!"
A geyser of flas exploded from Lancelot’s right shoulder, burning him, especially what had invaded him, but the abrupt gesture made him abandon his slow descent.
Lancelot crashed on the floor, his fists igniting to release tall flas that pushed the black cloud away once he swung them down. Yet, he felt more items flying at him, and he couldn’t stand being stuck defending anymore.
"Higher, higher," Lancelot chanted, this ti seemingly defying the laws of ti again, "I manifest through fire."
A small sun appeared on the platform. Tongues of flas shot everywhere as if they were bullets, forcing Liam to dance among them to dodge, only for a sharp, inhuman cry to resound.
The firestorm settled, and even the small sun gained a proper shape. Liam saw vast, fiery wings, a flickering tail, and a beaked, proud head. A silhouette of a magnificent bird had appeared behind Lancelot, every inch of its texture made of scorching fire.
"I knew you had it in you!" Lancelot laughed loudly. "But you are still holding back, aren’t you?!"
Liam felt two different looks. He sensed Lancelot’s crazed eyes, but also sothing sterner, hotter, coming from the bird’s silhouette itself.
It was as if a second rooting expert had joined the battle, and Liam’s perception had long since warned him about the grim truth. That spell was beyond everything he had. Lancelot had summoned too much Qi for him even to hope to match that living being made of flas.
Actually, the Primal Urge might work, but Liam had no intention of resorting to it for the sole reason that facing Lancelot directly was dumb. Right now, he was a better version of Liam in basically everything.
But there were subtle, roundabout ways Liam could employ. He had seen Lancelot’s reaction at being infected with his venom, aning he could kill him.
Of course, that ant revealing more secrets, but Liam was hardly in a condition to hold back anything with death staring down at him.
Except that a third party intervened in quite the dramatic fashion.
"Sister, co on," Lancelot groaned before a tide of water overran the part of the platform he was occupying.
That was a rank 2 spell. Liam had no doubt about it. He had felt it coming even before it had manifested, but hadn’t needed to move since he hadn’t been its target.
The water sizzled and turned into vapor, but ultimately put out the flas. The mist it created also dispersed quickly, revealing a drenched Lancelot staring at a spot beyond the platform.
"I was just starting to have fun!" Lancelot complained, spreading his arms.
Lancelot didn’t remain alone for long. His black-haired companion jumped on the platform, ignoring his complaining stance to glance at the black gas still dispersing at Liam’s feet.
"Young Master," The woman called. "He passes, doesn’t he?"
"Of course," Lancelot confird, brushing his palm over the right side of his face, the shallow wound there disappearing during the gesture. "William, let’s get so wine and won-!"
The woman elbowed Lancelot’s side, forcing him to change his words. "Let’s get so wine and have a talk. I have sothing I want to discuss with you."
Liam was still angry about his burned cloak, but soone joined him, too. A wave of Qi pushed the mostly dispersed gas away, clearing a spot where Grace could land.
"Master William will join no discussion without ," Grace declared, pointing her threatening smile at Liam. "Right?"
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