Immortal Supreme: Sovereign of the Grand Dao
Chapter 261: Flame Devil Physique

Chapter 261: Flame Devil Physique

The grand arena of the Mortal Emperor World trembled, its stone surface shattered by the relentless power unleashed by the previous contestants.

Energy crackled in the air like a storm on the horizon, with the atmosphere thick with residual power. Broken stone and shattered artifacts lay strewn across the stage, the aftermath of battle leaving nothing untouched.

In the center stood Arthur, his robes fluttering like banners in the wake of the overwhelming force of his aura. The ground beneath him was scorched, the marks of his power undeniable.

Around him, the remaining contestants formed a loose, yet tense, circle. Their expressions were a mix of awe, fear, and determination.

The stakes were clear—Arthur, with his overwhelming might, stood as the final obstacle between them and winning the tournament.

Among those left standing, one man’s gaze gleamed with fiery resolve. Crixus, the strongest disciple of the Heavenly Sword Sect asides from Balor who is the Prime Disciple, stepped forward.

His aura surged as he squared his shoulders, preparing himself for the battle of his life.

As one of the finest swordsmen of his generation, his pride ran deep, and he was unwilling to be easily overshadowed. He was determined to test his mettle against Arthur, to prove that he was not to be underestimated.

With a deep breath, Crixus summoned his martial spirit—the Blood Sword.

A crimson blade materialized in his grasp, pulsing with malignant energy, its edges sharp enough to cut through the heavens themselves. The air around him thickened, heavy with bloodlust as his eyes narrowed.

"Prince Arthur, or should I call you Invincible." Crixus called out, his voice laced with confidence and hostility.

"It was unfortunate we never battles but now is as good as any for challenge."

"Let me witness your strength!"

With a roar, he activated his Bloodlust Trump Card right of the bat, enveloping the entire battlefield in a suffocating aura of bloodthirst.

The weaker spectators in the stands felt their knees weaken, their breaths coming in short gasps.

The very air seemed to pulse with a dark energy, warping and distorting the surroundings. Yet, in the center of it all, Arthur stood unshaken, his expression calm.

Crixus was fast. His sword moved at an unpredictable angle, cutting through the air with a shrieking whistle. Each swing seemed to cleave through the very fabric of reality, aimed at Arthur’s heart. The attack was a deadly flurry of motion, one designed to overwhelm his opponent with sheer speed and power. But Arthur simply observed.

’Is this truly all you have, Crixus?’ Arthur thought, his golden eyes narrowing as he raised a single finger.

The Blood Sword descended with murderous intent, but Arthur did not move. Instead, with a flick of his finger, a pulse of pure sword intent erupted from his body.

The resulting shockwave shattered Crixus’ attack mid-air, breaking his blood-infused sword technique into a thousand pieces.

The force sent Crixus reeling back, blood spurting from his mouth as his own sword energy recoiled against him. His body hit the ground hard, and the crimson blade in his hand flickered and vanished, unable to withstand the overwhelming might of Arthur’s aura.

Before Crixus could even attempt to recover, Arthur was already on him. In a fluid motion, Arthur stepped forward, lifting his palm with deliberate precision.

A crushing force descended from his hand, pinning Crixus to the ground with a might that shattered his pride.

Crixus’ blood sword dissipated into nothingness, its power vanquished in an instant.

The once-confident disciple of the Heavenly Sword Sect lay unconscious, his pride shattered along with his technique.

A silence fell over the arena as the spectators absorbed the scene, their gazes shifting to Arthur in disbelief.

Although they expected him to to win but... this?

"Amazing..." Muttered a female disciple from the Heavenly Sword Sect.

But before he could turn away, a fiery roar erupted from behind him.

"Die!" shouted Prince Julius, his golden fists blazing with hellish fire. His body was surrounded by a storm of golden flames, a desperate expression on his face.

He had been preparing for this moment since the beginning—he would not go down so easily.

With a wild snarl, he launched forward, his fists transforming into dragon claws, each one wreathed in the power of an erupting volcano.

The flames were immense, scorching the air as Julius’ attack tore through the battlefield.

But Arthur, unfazed, tilted his head slightly and sidestepped with a fluid, almost graceful motion. He did not need to rush. His calmness in the face of such an inferno was enough to leave the audience in awe.

Julius was relentless. He dashed forward again, his attacks coming faster and fiercer, each punch carrying the force of a tempest.

But Arthur was toying with him, moving with ease, evading the blows with the slightest margin. A small burst of energy from Arthur’s finger was enough to send Julius staggering back, his attack faltering.

The prince’s face twisted with fury. "You think you can mock me, Arthur?" he roared.

And then, in a final desperate bid, Julius roared with all his might. His body ignited in dark, demonic flames, his muscles expanding as his skin darkened to a charcoal hue.

Two massive spectral dragon wings of fire unfurled from his back, and a suffocating heat engulfed the entire arena.

The Flame Devil Dragon Physique had been awakened—a forbidden inheritance of his royal bloodline of the Hartfield Family.

His flames turned a deep, hellish red, exuding an oppressive heat that warped the air around him. The temperature in the arena skyrocketed, forcing some of the weaker spectators to flee in fear.

Arthur’s expression remained unchanged. ’A mere bloodline technique. I’ve seen far more formidable warriors in my past life.’

With a small wave of his hand, the temperature in the arena plummeted.

Frost began to spread across the stone stage, the chilling cold creeping into every crevice.

Ice formed in intricate patterns beneath his feet as his Ice Dao Mastery at the Concept level manifested.

The moment the Ice Lotus bloomed, an intense cold enveloped the entire battlefield. Everything within a hundred meters froze solid, the air itself crackling with Arthur’s frosty aura.

Julius, now a towering inferno of demonic flames, charged forward, his claws slashing through the air in an attempt to incinerate Arthur.

The collision of fire and ice was catastrophic, a violent dance of contrasting elements. Sparks flew, frost spread, and the arena shook with the fury of their battle.

But Arthur was calm. With a single motion, he raised a finger, activating his Ice Concept, which was beyond even the Intent level.

"Freeze," he murmured, and a blue wave of Dao energy surged outward.

The dragon flames flickered, sputtered, and, in an instant, were extinguished. Julius’ body froze mid-flight, his fiery form encased in a thick, crystalline ice prison.

His demonic flames, powerful as they were, could not withstand the might of Arthur’s Ice Concept.

The audience gasped in stunned silence as Julius crashed to the ground, unmoving. The battle had ended before it had truly begun.

Arthur slowly turned to face the remaining contestants.

His golden eyes glowed with the wisdom of countless lifetimes, his presence so overwhelming that the remaining fighters trembled beneath it.

Some swallowed nervously, others tightened their grips on their weapons, unwilling to back down.

Prince Kalius, watching from the sidelines, narrowed his eyes. ’This is only a fraction of his strength. What is he hiding?’

Arthur tilted his head slightly, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. The battle was not over. Not yet.