Chaos' Heir
Chapter 1586: Grace

The Lightning-Demon style was an outdated martial art. Even Dean Ulluw, its creator, acknowledged as much. There were simply better kicking and sprinting techniques out there, with many of those being relatively accessible.

Still, as the martial arts’ creator, Dean had long since improved it to a form he had never advertised. His mastery had also involved his element, creating something only he could perform properly.

And there was more. Unlike more official evolved assets bound to powerful parties and duties, Dean had been able to focus on aspects that didn’t involve sheer battle prowess during his seclusion. Sure, that period had featured a lot of drinking, but also profound and spiritual meditation.

Like the sages of old, Dean had elevated his perspective by looking inward, broadening his understanding of the mana, his element, his body, and his existence. His insights had become enlightenment, reaching levels that even Liiza would respect.

Of course, Dean remained a narrow-minded human, but his enlightenment delivered results that could have a direct effect on the battlefield. Khan had developed a new proficiency level after exploring his body’s potential, and Dean had achieved something similar through his mind.

The air in front of the King had indeed solidified, being no different than a chunk of soil. Actually, its density made it quite sturdy, usually requiring decent-enough destructive power to pierce through it.

On top of that, the effort would be pointless. After all, it was air. Piercing or breaking that solidified area wouldn’t rob the King of anything valuable. He could just solidify more of it or force the dispersed pieces to converge once again.

Nevertheless, Dean didn’t do any of that. He didn’t even attack that ethereal but solid surface. His body had simply slipped inside it as if the area contained nothing more than ordinary atmosphere, delivering an attack at the same time.

The attack had also hit. A kick that made the King lift his head slammed on his chin but strangely caused no pain. Even the impact felt wrong to the point that the King hadn’t experienced any pushing force.

That whole sequence was incredibly odd, and it culminated with a soft announcement that the King couldn’t understand.

"Ghost steps, first phase," Dean muttered, seemingly to himself, his voice seamlessly resounding through the air so solid that it should push away any sound.

The King didn’t care much about understanding Dean’s words. The surrounding air was under his control already, but his unfolded wings leaked more True Chaos, forcing it to fuse with the atmosphere.

That whole area was a replica of the celestial body’s surface. It glowed with dim darkness, featuring no geysers or stars above.

The same glowing darkness invaded the air around the King and Dean in no time, creating a darker-than-black blemish in the sky that illuminated its surroundings.

The condensed air solidified further because of that, even stretching its effects to deeper layers of existence. It became a cage that could crush even ethereal beings, expanding so quickly that Dean had no opportunity to escape its range.

Yet, Dean didn’t even try to escape that darkening air. Instead, the King saw him flying through it, unaffected by its higher density and obstruction, accelerating beyond what he could perceive to continue his assault.

Dean appeared above the King, delivering a descending axe kick on his lifted head. Then, he sprinted again, reaching the alien’s back to slam his available foot at its center.

"Second phase," Dean muttered, but the King barely heard him. His head went back even further, and his figure leaned forward, but, strangely enough, he didn’t experience any pain again.

That lack of pain remained a mystery, but the second volley of attacks already gave the King some insights into Dean’s technique, mainly into his ability to pass through solid objects without creating any ripple in their fabric or facing any opposition.

A membrane made of thin, soft wind had formed around Dean, continuously blowing over him to enhance some of his features. Dean kept that air close to his skin to avoid feeding it to the King’s ability, but that was only one aspect of his technique.

Dean’s everything radiated a certain, almost unnoticeable, but undeniable grace. His moves, speed bursts, kicks, and even breathing felt incredibly soft to the point that the world failed to react to him.

The achievement was incredible considering that Dean’s attacks could prompt a reaction in the King’s body, meaning they wielded enough power to move him despite their grace.

The achievement was even more incredible when the King considered his defensive methods. He was using True Chaos, a superior energy, to flood the condensed air that had fallen under his control, but Dean somehow remained too graceful for it, too.

That expression of unfathomable mastery continued right under the King’s powerless eyes. Dean moved again, his figure disappearing to teleport in front of the King, his legs already stretched to deliver three kicks.

One kick hit the center of the King’s chest, while the other two landed at the edges of his hip, hitting in such quick succession that time seemed to slow down to allow their unfolding.

"Third phase," Dean whispered before moving again.

A fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh phase followed, each adding a kick to the previous volley of attacks. That progression was quick, seamless, and unstoppable, leaving the King at a loss for what to do. It truly seemed that the assault couldn’t be stopped, or, at least, someone like him couldn’t.

Still, the King didn’t blame himself. If anything, he acknowledged his opponent’s skills. If even time struggled to keep up with Dean’s grace, the King never had any chance.

But the assault eventually ended. After launching the seven, almost simultaneous, kicks, Dean shot upward, flying far past the area affected by the King’s influence, a single line escaping his mouth. "Seventh phase."

The King was bent over backward by then. He had yet to feel any pain, but the kicks had moved him in ways that were far from straight. Still, as soon as Dean spoke, the attacks replayed themselves, and the King felt them this time.

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