From Human to Skeleton: Revived with Infinite System Crystals

Chapter 680: Pressured Blood

Omina moved to intercept, her aura flaring as she met his charge head-on. Their collision sent shockwaves through the room, the force cracking the walls and sending shards of stone tumbling to the floor. Ty’s flames burned fiercely, but they sputtered and dimmed as Omina’s ice and wind battered them down.

With a final burst of energy, Ty managed to land a solid hit, his fist connecting with Omina’s shoulder in an explosion of black fire. She staggered slightly, her aura flickering—but it wasn’t enough. Her hand shot out, gripping his arm in an iron hold. Frost spread from her touch, creeping along his skin and extinguishing his flames entirely.@@@@

Ty gasped, his knees buckling as he felt the cold seep into his bones. He tried to pull away, but his strength was gone, his body trembling as the frost consumed him.

Omina released him, letting him fall to the ground. She stepped back, her aura pulsing with power as she looked down at him. "You fought well," she said, her tone almost respectful. "But this battle was over the moment it began."

Ty struggled to rise, blood dripping from the corners of his mouth as he shivered violently. His flames flickered weakly, barely a spark now. He wasn’t sure if it was exhaustion, the frost, or something deeper holding him down, but his body refused to cooperate.

For the first time in a long while, Ty felt the sting of helplessness.

-

meanwhile

-

The Black Bulls moved with practiced efficiency, their presence a mixture of chaos and precision as they closed in on their target. Osalf stood at the forefront, his commanding presence felt even amid the tension. His sharp eyes scanned the crumbling walls, his voice firm as he barked orders.

"Tressa," Osalf called, gesturing toward the jagged corridor ahead, "get us an exit portal prepped. Ronnick, have your spiders scout the next chamber. We need to confirm the constants are still here before we make a move."

Tressa nodded, her hand glowing faintly as a pool of black liquid began forming at her feet. "On it," she said, her tone brisk. The liquid shimmered, spreading outward in a perfect circle as it coalesced into an inky portal.

Ronnick crouched near the ground, his mechanical spiders skittering out in a swarm. Their metallic legs clicked against the stone as they vanished into the darkness ahead. "They’ll have eyes on the chamber in ten seconds," Ronnick reported, his goggles glowing faintly as he monitored their feed.

Behind them, the unnamed burly fighter with the scar across his nose hefted a massive hammer onto his shoulder. His gruff voice broke the silence. "If the King’s in there, I’ll make him regret showing up." He exchanged a glance with the lanky woman beside him, who smirked and cracked her knuckles.

"You’d better," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I’m not carrying your sorry ass out again."

Heriean lunged from the side, his blood-formed blades slicing through the air with precision. The King moved with inhuman speed, dodging each strike effortlessly. With a flick of his wrist, he sent Heriean sprawling to the ground, blood pooling around him as his weapons dissolved.

"Bomb’s armed!" Cade shouted, scrambling back as the device began its countdown. The glowing timer lit up the room, the seconds ticking away.

The King’s eyes narrowed slightly, his calm demeanor showing the faintest hint of annoyance. "So impatient," he said, his aura flaring as he turned toward Cade.

Xuán Wěi’s wraiths swarmed forward, their ghostly forms screeching as they dove at the King. For a moment, they overwhelmed him, spectral claws tearing at his golden aura. But the King barely reacted, his eyes narrowing before his light erupted outward in a devastating wave. The wraiths disintegrated instantly, scattering like smoke into the air.

Cade flinched at the force of the blast but kept his focus on the bomb, his hands trembling as he made the final adjustments. "Almost there," he muttered. His heart pounded as the timer clicked into place. Thirty seconds. "It’s armed!" he shouted, scrambling back from the device.

Osalf stepped in front of Cade, his gaze locked on the King. "Everyone, regroup. Tressa, get a portal ready. Ronnick, spiders to the perimeter. Now!" His voice carried authority, and the team moved without hesitation.

Tressa’s hand glowed faintly as her black liquid began pooling at her feet, rippling as it stretched outward in a perfect circle. "Just need a few seconds," she said through clenched teeth, sweat dripping down her brow.

Ronnick’s mechanical spiders fanned out, skittering across the chamber to scout for any weaknesses or ambush points. "I’ve got eyes on all angles," he called out, though his voice betrayed his nervousness.

The King’s attention shifted lazily to the bomb. His golden aura flared slightly, the pressure in the air growing heavier. "What a curious little device," he said, taking a deliberate step forward. "Did you truly think this would work?"

The chamber above them began to hum. A sharp metallic sound filled the space as dozens of small drones descended from hidden compartments in the walls and ceiling. Each carried cameras that glinted as they zoomed in on the scene below. The light from the drones bathed the room in a faint glow, and suddenly, a voice boomed from their speakers—smooth and charismatic.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the King’s finest production," said Rusuf, his tone exuding showmanship. "Tonight, we bring you the Black Bulls’ last stand. Watch as they challenge our great sovereign... and fail spectacularly."

Cade froze. His stomach sank as he realized the entire world was watching. Every movement, every breath was now part of the King’s twisted spectacle.

The scarred Black Bull, hammer in hand, snarled and charged forward. "Let’s see you talk when this smashes your face in!" His weapon swung in a wide arc, crackling with stored energy.

The King raised a single hand, catching the hammer mid-swing. The scarred man froze, his eyes widening as the King’s grip tightened. With an almost casual motion, the King yanked the hammer free and hurled it aside, sending it skidding across the chamber floor. "Crude," he remarked, his tone flat.

The lanky woman darted forward next, her kicks blurring in quick succession as she aimed for the King’s ribs. He sidestepped the first strike, his movements impossibly fluid. Her third kick connected with his golden aura, but instead of staggering him, it sent a shockwave through her leg. She collapsed to the ground, clutching her knee as the King stared down at her.