Rising from the Ashes (Andrew) novel Chapter 3322

Andrew let out a cold shout, his expression arrogant and commanding. It was perfect timing, because ever since breaking into the Beyond Mortal realm, he had not met an actual opponent he could fight without holding back.

Byron had clearly been hiding his strength, and only after running into Andrew today had he finally revealed it.

With this level of power, there was no way he was just a senior member of Umbral Peak Sect. He might very well have been the true hidden leader behind the entire sect.

What made Andrew even more certain was the look on Monty's face.

Monty was shocked that Byron's strength far exceeded anything he had known. Although Byron had always been stronger than him, it had never been by such an outrageous margin.

Moreover, Monty was supposed to be his senior.

A massive pillar of sword energy came crashing down from above.

Monty let out a strangled grunt and was sent flying backward, smashing through a vast stretch of withered forest before he hit the ground and coughed up a mouthful of blood.

Byron erupted in fury. Five massive phantom beasts made of pure dark energy came charging in one after another, relentlessly, all of them going straight for Andrew.

Andrew planted his feet and swung his greatsword in a full, wide arc. Roaring sword light burst out around him like a rotating machine gun, spraying in every direction.

The phantom beasts were torn through, one by one. However, some still slammed into Andrew's body.

In that instant, Andrew felt his mind jolt violently, and even his sword hand trembled slightly.

Byron burst into laughter. "You're strong, truly strong. Even I have to admit you are a once-in-a-generation genius, born for the martial path. Anyone born in the same era as you would be doomed.

"However, raw power won't break my Demon Waltz. My attacks don't go for the body; they go straight for the mind. They go for the soul. So tell me… are you starting to see things? Warm things? Tempting things?"

Another wave of dark phantom shapes came surging toward Andrew, but these were not beasts. The forms had changed into something far more disturbing: writhing silhouettes of entwined figures, arching bodies, provocative shapes designed to set his blood on fire.

It looked almost seductive, but Andrew felt nothing but danger. He recognized instantly that letting those phantoms wrap around him would be catastrophic, the kind of thing that could crack a person's mind wide open and send them spiraling out of control on the spot.

Andrew steeled himself fast. He kept hacking his sword through the phantoms to destroy them while simultaneously stepping back, widening the distance between himself and Byron.

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