CHAPTER 18.5 — BLOOD UNDER PRESSURE
Taron Blaze landed knee-first.
The ground buckled beneath him.
He rose slowly, rolling his shoulders as the world came into focus.
A battlefield of broken iron pillars stretched endlessly beneath a black sky.
No heat.
No constructs.
Just pressure.
Then—
Chains erupted from the ground.
They wrapped around his arms, his legs, his torso—digging into flesh, tightening with every breath.
Taron grinned.
"So this is it?"
He flexed.
Bloodline resonance surged inward.
Muscles thickened. Bones screamed.
The chains tightened harder.
Steel screamed.
Taron roared and pulled.
Veins burst along his arms as he tore the chains apart one by one—each snap sending shockwaves through his body.
But the pressure didn't stop.
It multiplied.
The air itself became heavy.
Taron dropped to one knee.
Blood ran from his nose.
"Still not enough?" he snarled.
The ground split open.
From below rose blood-wraith beasts, forged of pressure and killing intent. They lunged.
Taron didn't retreat.
He charged.
His fists collided with claw and fang. Every strike crushed, every counter tore flesh—but each exchange shredded him internally.
Bones cracked.
Organs screamed.
Still, he laughed.
He fought until the ground was soaked red.
When the final beast fell, Taron collapsed onto his back—chest heaving, vision blurred.
Above him, the pressure eased.
A voice echoed:
"Survive… or break."
Taron wiped blood from his mouth.
"…Try harder."