Chapter 269: Chapter 269 The Last Stand IV

Liam’s eyes narrowed as the forest quieted again.

And then—he saw him.

A man stepped forward from behind the thick trunk of an oak tree, his footsteps heavy and deliberate. He held a long, black spear in his right hand. Its shaft was thick, reinforced, and glowed faintly with violet streaks. His figure was lean but strong, clothed in the signature red-and-black combat gear of the Crimson Hand. His face was blank—emotionless—but those burning eyes told the truth.

He wasn’t just another thug. He was enhanced.

Liam’s breath slowed. So that wasn’t a launcher earlier… that was him—he threw that thing.

The realization sent a weight through his chest.

If the Crimson Hand had soldiers who could throw spears like artillery, this was way more serious than they thought. The exogen experiments were no longer unstable anomalies. These were functioning weapons in human form.

Behind Liam, the ten Black Lotus soldiers tensed as the forest seemed to pulse with pressure. Then the man ahead crouched, lowering his stance. Muscles tensed. The spear began to glow, humming with violent energy.

“Get cover!!” someone behind Liam shouted in a panic.

Boots scrambled behind him, rifles lifted, bodies dropped to the ground or dove behind trees, logs, and anything they could find. But Liam didn’t move. He didn’t even blink.

He just stared.

He met the man’s eyes, unmoved, unfazed.

The enemy let out a war cry and launched the spear.

The air ripped apart with a sonic boom.

But Liam was already gone.

With a single sidestep and a subtle twist of his body, the spear missed him by inches and continued on, tearing through the air like a missile. It vanished into the woods behind with a series of cracks as it obliterated everything in its path.

Liam’s eyes returned to the man.

He was empty-handed now.

Vulnerable.

And Liam smiled.

Without waiting, he moved.

The forest blurred around him as he dashed forward, dirt and leaves kicking up behind him like a storm. But just before he could reach the first attacker, another figure emerged from the trees.

They came quickly, two from the left, three from the right. All Crimson Hand.

One of them raised his hand and murmured something, and then a wide, shimmering shield of light-blue energy formed in front of them, stretching across the trees like a dome. Seven more figures emerged behind it, standing confidently.

Nine in total.

They stood behind the shield with smug expressions, clearly thinking they had Liam right where they wanted him. The man who had thrown the spear had already retrieved another one—where he got it from, Liam didn’t even want to know.

“Seriously?” Liam muttered as he slowed his approach. “How many of you bastards are there?”

The energy from the barrier hummed sharply. It wasn’t weak. It had density. But Liam didn’t stop. He walked straight to it, watching the enemy closely. They were clearly enhanced too—some with glowing eyes, some pulsing with energy beneath their skin. The Crimson Hand wasn’t hiding their power anymore. They were bringing out their best.

Behind the shield, they laughed quietly among themselves.

“He’s gonna break his fists on it.”

“He doesn’t know what he’s dealing with.”

Liam heard every word. And he didn’t care.

He cracked his knuckles slowly.

Then looked up.

“Fuck off,” he said coldly—and jumped.

In one explosive leap, he shot straight into the air, then brought his entire body downward, fist extended.

A blinding crash followed.

His fist slammed into the barrier with a bone-shaking boom, and the entire thing lit up like lightning had struck it. For a second, it held—crackling, resisting—but then, a spiderweb of cracks spread across it, and with a deafening shriek, the shield shattered.

The resulting shockwave blasted outward, sending dust and wind in every direction.

The nine behind it were tossed like rag dolls—some hitting trees, others crashing into the dirt as their cocky expressions turned to wide-eyed horror.

Liam landed in the center, crouched low, surrounded by the fragments of the collapsed barrier.

He stood up slowly, brushing off a bit of dust from his shoulder.

Nonchalant. Unbothered. Like it was nothing.

He looked around, unfazed, his eyes locking onto one of the men already pulling himself to his feet.

His eyes glowed a deep crimson, and his hands ignited in fire.

Flames licked up his forearms, growing hotter, brighter, angrier. His lips curled into a smirk, teeth gritted as he faced Liam with raw defiance.

“You want a fight?” he growled. “Then bring it on.”

The flames in his hands intensified, and the forest behind him lit up with an ominous orange glow even tho the sun was out.

Liam stared, eyes narrowing, a faint smirk pulling at the edge of his lips.

The man raised a burning hand and pointed it straight at Liam. His skin glowed with heat, his entire body radiating power. Then with a low humming sound, the fire in his hand erupted—blasting forward in a tight stream of focused flame.

It shot straight for Liam’s chest like a bullet of molten rage.

Liam didn’t move.

The fire hit him directly, engulfing his upper body in bright, whipping flames that swirled with orange and yellow. The Black Lotus members watching from behind ducked and shielded their eyes, thinking Liam had been caught off guard.

But when the flames finally dissipated… Liam was still standing. Unscathed.

He looked down at the light smoke clinging to his shirt and slowly dusted it off with one hand like he was brushing off morning ash.

He raised his head and stared coldly at the burning man ahead of him.

“Really?” Liam muttered, shaking his head slightly, “You guys aren’t natural. Your power’s borrowed. It’ll burn out in an hour.”

The burning man twitched.

“You’re weak.”

The words hit like a slap across the face. Liam wasn’t yelling. He wasn’t even angry. His tone was flat—disappointed. Like a teacher chastising a child who failed a simple test.

And that was worse.

The Crimson Hand warrior’s breathing became uneven. Rage twisted across his face. His eyes flared, literally, as flames burst from his shoulders and his hair lit up like dry hay catching fire.

He screamed—raw, animalistic.

His entire body was now covered in flames. Not just his hands or arms—his chest, legs, even his back. He had become a walking inferno, and the temperature in the area spiked suddenly, the heatwaves distorting the air around him.

Ding!

Liam blinked.

A virtual blue notification flashed in front of his vision:

[Enemy Identified: Crimson Fireborn – Modified Exogen]

[Warning: Target’s body heat exceeds 900°C]

[HP Level: 73%… 72%… 71%…]

The health bar continued ticking down, second by second.

Liam raised an eyebrow. “Wait… what?”

He glanced at the hovering HP bar that showed the man’s life force declining rapidly, even without him being attacked.

“What the hell is this?” he muttered under his breath. “Since when does the system show me enemy HP?”

Ding!

[System Update Installed After Last Level Up]

[Note: You have not checked new system features post-evolution. Please review changelog.]

Liam’s face scrunched. “What do you mean updates come with level ups? Why don’t I get notifications for those?”

The system didn’t respond.

He frowned, confused. “Hello? Can you answer that—”

Silence.

No more dings. No voice. The system had gone completely quiet, like it had ghosted him mid-conversation.

Liam sighed. “Rude.”

Meanwhile, the fireborn had reached his limit. The fact that Liam had ignored him—literally ignored him—while he was in his most powerful state made his blood boil even hotter.

“DON’T IGNORE ME!!!”

With another guttural yell, he hurled both arms forward, and a barrage of fireballs exploded out from his flaming chest like cannon shells. The orbs of fire hissed and crackled as they shot through the air, each one wide enough to take out a car.

Liam’s expression changed for the first time.

Those were going to sting.

He exhaled slowly and unfurled his wings behind him with a quick snap, feathers glowing faintly in the morning sun. With a single fluid motion, he wrapped them forward—shielding himself entirely just before the fireballs made contact.

BOOM—BOOM—BOOM!!

The explosions lit up the woods, throwing dirt, sparks, and leaves into the air. The ground shook from the pressure as flames roared around the area, licking at the trees and blackening their trunks.

But Liam didn’t move.

His wings stood firm.

The fire danced and surged against the white feathers, but they didn’t burn. They couldn’t. Whatever power his wings carried, they were far beyond ordinary. They pulsed once—sending a wave of resistance back at the flames and forcing the fire to curve around them like water over stone.

Smoke and heat rose in waves.

But when it all cleared…

Liam was still there. Kneeling slightly, wings out, not a single feather harmed.

He straightened slowly, his eyes now locked on the fireborn, who was breathing hard. The flames across his body had begun to weaken. His breath came out shaky. His body was starting to shake from the strain.

His HP bar ticked again: 41%

Liam’s face remained calm.

But inside, he was piecing something together.

“These guys,” he murmured, “They’re not just getting stronger—they’re burning themselves out from the inside.”

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