Chaos' Heir
Chapter 1585: Problematic

Dean Ulluw had a bit of a problematic situation on his hands. Actually, the area only featured problems.

The evolved Ef’i, Mazatl, was somewhere on Dean’s left, too deep into the twisted, stretched space to be visible, but exchanging blows so loud that the echoes of their violent roars reached as far as his position.

Meanwhile, the hairy but bald Perac fought at some distance from Dean’s right, bright shapes of giant animals appearing on his back whenever he launched an attack. Those blows were quite destructive, too, but Perac’s opponent matched them easily.

And then there was Dean himself, who probably had it far worse than his companions since his opponent directly countered him. He was against a slim, short-haired, and winged King, who somehow controlled the very air.

Since Dean’s element was wind, that pairing had ended up being quite terrible. His ability to fly, speed, and general agility had prevented him from getting hurt, but things had started to worsen even since his opponent had gained wings and fuming horns.

Ideally, Dean would have jumped at the chance to switch opponents, but contacting his companions had been impossible. Neither of those battles ever featured breaks, and Dean couldn’t risk creating damaging distractions due to his personal issues.

Hence, the problematic situation. Dean was stuck in an unfavorable battle with no hope of receiving any help.

’What am I even doing here?’ Dean wondered in his mind, a sigh escaping his mouth.

Perac was an evolved asset from a noble family. He was virtually one of the most elite warriors the Global Army and humankind as a whole had to offer. His rightful place was there, on the battlefield beyond reality itself, fighting for the survival of the regulated universe.

Mazatl looked even more suited for the job. Dean couldn’t really see her fight, but its echoes sent tremors directly to the core of his existence, vouching for her battle prowess and her deserving spot in that elite team.

Instead, Dean didn’t have any notable achievements under his belt. He was indeed an evolved warrior, but he had spent most of his life after stepping into that superior state in seclusion, far removed from politics and battles.

Of course, joining that universal struggle had been the right thing to do, and Dean had also succeeded at the small tournament, earning himself a spot in the elite team.

However, nothing could have prepared Dean for the Scarlet Eyes’ Kings’ prowess. He couldn’t help but feel slightly outclassed there, doubting whether his performance could affect that war’s outcome at all.

As if to intensify that feeling of being outclassed, a strange weight spread through Dean’s surroundings, alerting his perception and specific sensitivity. The air around him was changing, exerting a certain pressure on his figure.

That wasn’t Dean’s first time facing that attack, so his feet promptly kicked the air, sending him higher into the starless sky while releasing soft gales. Upward winds rose alongside him, generating a sharp acceleration as he rode them, but that sudden sprint was short-lived.

The gales Dean had generated through his mana soon escaped his control, merging with the area’s atmosphere, immediately echoing the faint pressure that had begun to afflict his previous surroundings.

That wasn’t new, either, but Dean had needed to feed that gale to his opponent to achieve the speed necessary to escape what was coming. Everything under him suddenly condensed, applying a crushing force to a vast chunk of the sky.

The crushing force was so solid that Dean stopped rising and stretched his legs, landing on an invisible but undeniable foothold. The air under him had grown so dense that anyone could stand on it.

As for what would have happened if Dean had remained within the crushing force, he didn’t have a hard time imagining it. He was an expert in the field, so he knew what kind of force could make the air gain that dense texture.

Chances were Dean would have died on the spot, crushed into nothingness, not even leaving a gory pulp behind.

Something condensed inside the vast chunk of solid air while Dean studied it. A pitch-black but glowing blemish formed in the dark sky, rising at some distance from the evolved warrior until it reached his eye level.

The blemish gained distinctive features during the rise, turning into the slim, winged King, who smirked at Dean, opening his mouth to release a strange whisper.

"[Are you only capable of running, child of the man-]" The King began to say, only for a foot to fill his vision, forcing him to bend sideways to dodge it.

That didn’t save the King from the enemy’s offense. He had leaned to his left, but Dean had spun on himself accordingly, his other leg’s heel rising to deliver a strange roundhouse kick.

The incoming heel didn’t make the King falter. The first attack had been fast enough to catch him by surprise, but the second had already given him enough time to respond.

Dean’s leg kept rising until he felt the same strange pressure from before closing on him. His heel was almost upon the King’s face, only needing to cross a few centimeters to hit him, but he knew completing the attack would mark his death.

So, the King suddenly lost track of the heel that had filled his vision, and the air in front of him condensed to crush nothing at all. Still, he felt no surprise while he raised his scarlet irises, pointing them at the figure hovering above him.

"[It won’t be long until my influence covers the entire sky]," The King taunted. "[All your speed is bound to become useless]."

Dean Ulluw stared down at the King, caressing his long white beard, knowing he was right. He sensed how more and more of that area’s atmosphere was falling under the King’s control, gradually exhausting his escape paths.

"I did say I couldn’t just be along for the ride," Dean Ulluw sighed, not caring about trying to speak in a way that the King could understand. "That’s what I get for trying to act cool at my age."

The pressure returned. An ethereal weight began to press onto Dean, but he ended up closing his eyes. Truth be told, he wasn’t hopelessly weak. He had a fighting chance there, and he might as well pursue it since the universe’s survival was at stake.

Then, the air solidified, only to crush nothing once again. Dean had sprinted, but, for once, he didn’t rise. Instead, the King found him in front of him, somehow hovering freely inside a condensed piece of the sky, his right foot already clashing with his chin.

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