Chapter 870: Sparks

Name:Chaos' Heir Author:
Chapter 870: Sparks



The whooshing noise released by the hall's metal doors awakened Khan, and a smile appeared on his face when a familiar aura touched his senses. He half-turned, retaining his comfortable position on the couch while looking at the figure approaching him.

"Long night?" Monica asked, a giggle escaping her mouth when she noticed George sleeping on a nearby couch with an empty bottle in his arms.

"Very long," Khan confirmed, his voice a half-groan. "Very good."

Monica reached Khan's couch, sitting before his half-turned torso. Her hands went for his drowsy face, and her thumbs carefully removed the gunk from his eyes.

"Did you talk with him?" Monica inquired.

"I told him everything," Khan said, his explanation occasionally interrupted by George's drunken snores, "But we somehow ended up talking about butts."

"I hope mine was the only one your mouth mentioned," Monica half-joked and half- threatened, bringing down her hand to trap Khan's lips in its grasp.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

"Of course," Khan muttered through Monica's fingers, his hand sliding behind her back to reach for her butt. "I defended it with my life."

"Good job, dear," Monica praised. "Sadly, it's late. I would have loved to hear more about it otherwise."

"We can be late," Khan suggested, straightening his back and pulling Monica closer to leave a quick kiss on her lips. "After all, it's my tournament."

Monica wanted to glare at Khan, but her face couldn't stop smiling.

"It's very late," Monica said before glancing at George, "And I've only bought him five minutes with Anita."

"I don't think that will be enough," Khan revealed, also inspecting George. "He has become such a lightweight."

"Well," Monica voiced. "He doesn't have nobles, Thilku Lords, and battle-crazy aliens to handle."

"Truly a carefree life," Khan commented. "I'm almost jealous."

"I'm not," Monica revealed, leaning over Khan to grab the bone crown resting on the couch. "I get to have a King all for myself."

Monica placed the crown on Khan's head, adjusting his hair and the item. Afterward, she addressed the creases on his shoulders, eventually patting them when she felt satisfied with the result.

"Alright," Khan sighed, suddenly standing up and lifting Monica with one hand. She giggled and clung to him while he retrieved the cape from the couch's armrest. The two quickly left the hall, and Anita ended up spotting her friend still being princess-carried when marching toward her sleeping boyfriend.

Monica off his lap.

Multiple battles were unfolding in the area, but one particular one had ended. The scene featured a young woman proudly standing before her defeated, kneeling opponent. The floor had also confirmed her victory, so her eyes rose to the stages, bathing in the cheers.

The kneeling young man had his face lowered, so no one noticed his empty expression. He had actually fainted, but his mana moved independently, escaping his skin.

Crackling noises spread through the area, alerting the young woman. She inspected the young man, realizing that scarlet sparks had covered his arms and shoulders. Her eyes widened as she tried to assume a defensive stance, but lightning bolts shot out before she could start to

move.

The woman couldn't even close her eyes in time. She saw the scarlet lightning bolts darting through the air as they flew toward her. Everything also slowed down, almost hinting at her impending death, but something even quicker unfolded.

The young woman's brain took a while to update her on the new scenery. The lightning bolts had disappeared, replaced by a thick red cape. Someone had saved her, but the aura that touched her survival instincts made her fall to her knees.

Khan ignored the woman and inspected the kneeling man. The odd sensation from before had disappeared, and the contestant slowly regained his awareness, lifting his head in confusion.

Noticing Khan froze the young man from head to toe. His slightly long black hair almost stood up in fear, and his eyes widened, revealing the depths of their green color. Khan ignored that reaction, too. He only cared about the man's mana, which was strangely normal now. Still, he smelled something off, so he approached the contestant, lifting him from the armor piece on his shoulder to better examine him.

The contestant wanted to say something, but his throat didn't work. Even his lungs threatened to collapse. He was only a second-level warrior, while Khan was a force of nature. The man could barely breathe, let alone speak.

Khan let go of the man, who was too frozen even to try to fall. His legs remained as straight as possible as Khan walked around him twice, seemingly searching for something. 'Curious,' Khan thought, ripping off the chest armor and exposing the man's military uniform. He placed a hand at the center of his chest, closing his eyes to study the mana's flow. That energy was strange but reminded Khan of his weapon.

Khan reopened his eyes, sending a harmless tremor inside the man. The latter barely felt it, but his mana experienced something more radical. The light shock seemingly awakened it, and scarlet sparks immediately accumulated on the contestant's shoulders.

Khan stepped back, putting a slight distance between the man and himself to avoid safety hazards. Meanwhile, more scarlet sparks accumulated, rising above the contestant to create a

face-like picture.

The face was unclear. The sparks' everchanging shape also didn't help, but Khan trusted that first impression. He had also seen something similar in the past, so he let that strange mana

complete its task.

The sparks eventually shot forward, turning into a crackling cloud that converged on Khan. The attack was fast, faster than it had been against the woman, but Khan barely minded it. He was more interested in its nature than destructive force.

"Shatter," Khan said once the cloud was about to reach him, and the sparks dispersed, turning into raw energy that disappeared in the air.

The man became free of the scarlet sparks, but his body failed to handle the last attack. His legs gave in, and his knees slammed to the floor. His hands and face were about to suffer from

the same fate, but Khan caught him and straightened his back. Nevertheless, the man had already fainted, preventing any interrogation. Khan could only tap the floor to learn his name, and "Foxnor" soon appeared on the metal. 'Where did I hear it?' Khan wondered. 'Right, Istrone. I guess I owe him one.'