Chapter 390: Chapter 390 Chains Of Death

The two men staggered to their feet, breathing hard, their bodies barely holding together. One’s metal skin was cracked and glowing, the other’s massive frame shaking from burns that refused to heal.

They were a mess—charred, bleeding, broken—but they still came forward.

Lana just looked at them, silent. Her hair fell over one shoulder, the faint glow from her fire lighting her face. For a long second, no one spoke. Even the roar of the flames around them seemed to fade.

Then she sighed. A soft, almost tired sound.

“…You’re not worth my time.”

Her tone wasn’t angry. It was calm—like she’d made up her mind and the fight was already over.

And then, everything changed.

The air went heavy. The ground trembled. The faint red aura that surrounded her burst into something massive.

The flames around her turned white-hot. The color bled into crimson, then gold, then pure blinding light. The heat hit first—rolling across the battlefield like a living wave. Concrete cracked. Glass shattered.

The men froze. Their instincts screamed, run.

Too late.

Lana’s eyes glowed gold, her pupils thin like fire itself. She raised one hand slowly, fingers spreading apart, and the air above her rippled as if the world itself couldn’t handle what she was about to do.

The people watching from the broadcast lost signal for a moment. The heat fried the drones, static filling the screens.

When the feed came back, all anyone could see was fire.

The two men were gone from sight, swallowed by a storm of living flame.

It wasn’t a burst—it was a flood. The fire twisted upward, roaring like a creature alive. The sound was deep, raw, endless. The earth under her feet turned molten.

Metal melted. Flesh vanished.

Inside that inferno, the metal man tried to scream, but the fire burned the sound out of his lungs. His armor turned liquid, dripping off his body before his entire form disintegrated into nothing but black dust.

The strong one didn’t last longer. He swung blindly, fists glowing red before they turned black and cracked apart. The fire swallowed him whole.

It wasn’t even violent—it was clean. Precise.

When the flames finally sank, nothing was left but a scorched crater and air that shimmered from the heat.

Lana stood alone in the middle, her hand still raised, her hair glowing at the tips. She lowered it slowly, eyes dimming back to their normal deep green.

Silence followed.

Nobody moved. Nobody spoke.

Even the fight on the other end of the battlefield—Lilith and the fire leader—had stopped.

Both of them stared at her.

Blake’s fire flickered weakly in his hand as he whispered, “What… the hell was that?”

Lilith’s cold eyes narrowed, a rare flicker of awe passing across her face. “She burned through metal and flesh like paper,” she said softly. “That wasn’t normal fire.”

Vanessa, Seo Yeon, Kelly, Ann, and Dickson just stood there, trying to process what they’d seen.

The live chat on every streaming platform froze completely.

No one knew what to say.

The heat was still lingering, rising off the blackened ground in waves. The camera drones that survived drifted around shakily, capturing the image of Lana standing tall in the center of the ruined field, calm and steady, as if nothing had happened.

Her expression didn’t change. There was no pride in her face, no joy. Just quiet.

She turned her head slightly toward where Lilith and Blake stood.

Across the battlefield, Blake’s eyes met hers. For the first time since the fight began, he looked cautious. His flames dimmed.

Lilith tilted her head, almost smiling.

Lana didn’t speak. She just stared at them for a few seconds, her calm presence radiating that same silent message—if he wanted to step next, then he would end up the same way.

The silence stretched until even the air seemed afraid to move.

Smoke drifted slowly through the sky, glowing red from the dying fire.

Then Blake finally exhaled, the words slipping out under his breath. “She’s… something else.”

——

Lilith turned her head slightly, her sharp eyes narrowing at Blake. The sudden appearance of Lana had changed everything. The tide of the battle had shifted completely.

Just minutes ago, Blake and his men were untouchable. But now, his army was gone, and the two strongest beside him had been reduced to ash.

It was over.

Lilith stood side by side with Lana, her ice aura still cold and steady, while Lana’s faint heat burned beside her like a living flame. Behind them, Dickson, Vanessa, Ann, Seo Yeon, and Kelly gathered, bruised but alive.

Seven against one.

Blake was surrounded. He stood in the middle of the scorched field, the red glow of his fire flickering around him like dying embers.

There was no way he could survive this.

And yet—he started laughing.

A low chuckle at first, then louder, sharper. It grew until it echoed across the broken field. Everyone froze, watching him. His laughter cut through the silence like static.

He bent slightly, hand over his face, his shoulders shaking from how hard he was laughing.

No one moved.

Vanessa frowned. “What the hell is wrong with this guy?”

Dickson, breathing heavily, muttered, “He’s lost it. Man knows he’s done.”

Even the air felt strange now, uneasy, as Blake’s laughter continued. There was something off about it—not desperate, not broken. It sounded real. Confident.

Lilith’s voice finally broke through. “What’s so funny?”

Blake slowly lifted his head. His smirk was wide, eyes burning faintly with firelight. “Funny? Oh, nothing.” He tilted his head, the grin still stuck on his face. “I just remembered something.”

Lilith didn’t respond. She took a step closer, her heels crunching against the cracked ground. Her tone was calm but cold. “Who are you really? You show up here, trap thousands of people, demand Liam, and destroy half the city. What do you want from him?”

Blake’s grin didn’t fade. He just looked at her like he was enjoying a private joke. “How about,” he said softly, “you ask Liam about his little trip to Russia?”

Lilith frowned. “His trip to Russia?”

Her voice dropped, quiet, thoughtful. She remembered that trip.

something about Blake’s tone made her stomach tighten.

Lana stepped closer, standing shoulder to shoulder with Lilith. Her expression was calm, but her eyes were sharp. “What about Russia?” she asked. “I was there with him.”

Blake turned to her, studying her face for a second before smiling wider. “Oh, you were?” His voice dropped lower, almost teasing. “Then you should remember COD.”

Lana’s eyes hardened instantly.

She didn’t move, but her whole body tensed. The name hit her like a blade to the chest.

Of course she remembered. That bastard with the chains. The one who nearly crushed her in his grip. If Liam hadn’t killed him, she wouldn’t be standing here now.

Lilith glanced at her, sensing the sudden change in her energy. “Who the hell is COD?”

Lana’s jaw tightened. “He was a man Liam killed in Russia. Dangerous one. They called him Chains of Death.”

For a moment, everyone went silent. The name alone carried weight, even among those who didn’t know him.

Blake chuckled quietly again, and when he spoke, his tone was softer—almost nostalgic. “Yeah,” he said, “you got that right.”

Then, before anyone could question him further, another voice joined in.

“Of course she did.”

The new voice was calm, deep, and carried easily through the air.

Everyone turned.

And there—just a few feet away—stood a man no one had seen appear. He looked like he had been there all along, unnoticed until he decided otherwise.

He was dressed in all white. A clean, tailored white suit, white shoes, and a wide-brimmed white hat that cast a soft shadow over his face. Even his gloves were white, spotless, like he had never touched dirt in his life.

He smiled faintly as he adjusted his cuff. “Because Chains of Death,” he said casually, “was one of us.”

The air turned heavy again.

No one spoke.

Lilith’s expression darkened as she slowly straightened her back, her eyes flicking between Blake and the new man.

Lana’s flames flared slightly around her, a quiet instinctive reaction to danger.

Blake didn’t look surprised. If anything, his grin widened.

Vanessa whispered, “Who the hell is that?”

No one answered.

The man in white tilted his head slightly, smiling still. The faint light from the burning field reflected off his shoes as he stepped forward once, his voice smooth and cold.

“Now,” he said, looking directly at Lilith and Lana, “shall we talk about Liam?”

And just like that, the battlefield that had finally gone quiet…

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