Abaddon's name continued to surface whenever humanity was drawn into war. He appeared during conflicts against mana beasts, rival races, invading armies, and creatures born from the darkest corners of the world. It did not matter whether humanity fought to defend its homes and families or to conquer foreign lands and claim new territory.

Wherever war reached its bloodiest heights, Abaddon was said to follow.

He came with the fog.

He came with the laughter.

He came with death.

And now, the Demon Battle God stood directly before Leon.

He was unarmed.

He did not need a weapon.

His posture was relaxed, almost casual, yet every aspect of his presence radiated absolute confidence. Abaddon looked at Leon as though the younger man's life had already been extinguished, as though the only question remaining was how long the corpse would remain standing before finally collapsing.

Leon stood within his Simple Domain, his fingers tightening around Arondight's hilt.

He could feel the power sustaining the domain beginning to wane. The temporary negation granted by the Flames of Rebirth was fading. The primordial flames had already completed their task by restoring his body and bringing him back from death. Their work was finished, and the vermilion fire licking across his flesh began to weaken.

Soon, the flames would disappear entirely.
Then Abaddon's abhorrent domain would once again take hold of him.

Leon could not allow that to happen.

He needed to strike first. More importantly, he needed to place himself in a favorable position before Abaddon could regain the overwhelming advantage that had allowed him to kill Leon without even moving.

There would be no second opportunity.

Leon drew a slow breath and focused on the mana surrounding him.

"Pyre!"

His voice cut through the blood-red mist.

The ambient mana responded immediately, surging toward him as though it had been waiting for his command. Streams of invisible energy converged around his body before pouring into Arondight. The celestial blade drank it all in, its blue and black surface becoming saturated with power.

Then glorious vermilion flames erupted along Arondight's edge.

By channeling his power through a weapon of his choosing, Leon cloaked its entire length in flames capable of reaching temperatures of nearly five hundred thousand degrees Fahrenheit. The fire did not burn like ordinary flames. It clung to the weapon's surface with absolute precision, obeying Leon's will as he shaped its intensity, movement, and destructive force.

With enough control over both sword and flame, Leon could carve through nearly any obstacle placed in his path. Ordinary metals softened and collapsed before the weapon even made contact. Mortal armor was torn apart as though it were paper, its surface glowing red before being reduced to molten fragments. Flesh offered no resistance. Skin vanished beneath the heat, muscles disintegrated in an instant, and bones were reduced to ash and scattered particles.

Yet Pyre's true danger did not come from its extreme temperature alone.

The technique became far more lethal when combined with Leon's combat style.

Once Arondight had been prepared, vermilion flames spiraling along its edge, Leon initiated the Path of Burning Steps, the dance upon which his entire fighting style was based.

The name was more than a poetic description. It represented Leon's usage of Ifrit's pathway, an entity that specialized in generating and manipulating heat in the middle of combat. Unlike ordinary fire mages, who typically released flames through spells or carefully prepared techniques, the Path of Burning Steps allowed Leon to create heat through movement itself.

Every step mattered.

Every turn, pivot, and sweeping motion contributed to the growing inferno within him. The more passionately Leon danced across the battlefield, the more heat he generated. His body became a furnace, his mana transformed into fuel, and his movements gradually pushed his output beyond what most fire mages could ever hope to achieve.
That heat could then be applied in countless ways.

Leon could use it to intensify his flame magic, strengthen his spells, improve his control over surrounding mana, and increase the efficiency of his techniques. It also reinforced his body, allowing his muscles to move with greater speed and force while sharpening his reactions and endurance.

The Path of Burning Steps was not a rigid sequence of attacks. It was an adaptive combat form designed to accommodate any situation.
Its wielder could choose between overwhelming offense and impenetrable defense, yet both approaches benefited from the same foundation.

As long as Leon maintained his movement and allowed the heat within him to build, the dance continued to grow more dangerous.

When Leon adopted an aggressive rhythm, his footwork became quick and explosive. He darted across the battlefield in sudden bursts, each step carrying him into a new angle of attack. His flaming blade struck repeatedly at vital points, targeting the throat, heart, joints, and other weaknesses with ruthless precision.

The objective was not always to end the battle with a single strike.

Sometimes, it was to force the opponent to defend again and again until their stamina began to fail. Every blocked attack still carried the crushing weight of Leon's enhanced strength and the unbearable heat of Pyre. Every near miss forced the opponent to spend more energy evading. With each exchange, their movements became slower, their breathing heavier, and their openings wider.

However, the Path of Burning Steps was equally formidable when Leon fought defensively.

In that state, his movements became calm, deliberate, and almost graceful. He stopped wasting energy on unnecessary attacks and allowed the rhythm of the dance to clear his thoughts. His breathing steadied. His awareness expanded. The noise of the battlefield faded until only the flow of mana, the movement of his opponent, and the burning edge of Arondight remained.

This state allowed Leon to enter a heightened flow.

Within it, enemy movements appeared slower and easier to read. A shift of the shoulder revealed an incoming strike. A change in stance exposed the next direction of attack. The smallest fluctuation in mana became a warning before an ability was unleashed.

Leon could then redirect his opponent's momentum, evade with minimal movement, and counter at the precise instant their balance failed. Defense flowed naturally into offense, and offense returned seamlessly to defense.

That was the essence of the Path of Burning Steps.

It was not simply a dance of fire.

It was a battle rhythm that grew stronger with every movement, transforming Leon's body into a weapon, his mana into an inferno, and the battlefield into a stage upon which his opponent was forced to dance to his tune.

Leon raised the burning sword and fixed his gaze on Abaddon.

For the first time since the battle began, he was no longer waiting to survive.

He was preparing to attack.

Despite Leon's burning desire to seize the initiative, Abaddon's overwhelming presence crushed his confidence before he could launch a proper assault.

The Demon Battle God moved.

One of his colossal claws descended with enough force to distort the air. The attack was impossibly fast for something so massive, and its sheer power forced Leon into a frantic defense. He twisted aside and brought Arondight up just in time, but his footing was unstable. The rhythm of the Path of Burning Steps fractured beneath Abaddon's relentless assault, and every unsteady step weakened Leon's ability to counter the demon's explosive strength.

Clink!

Clink!

CLINK!

Celestial steel collided with blood-coated talons.

Each impact sent violent tremors through Leon's arms. Sparks erupted between Arondight's flaming edge and Abaddon's razor-sharp claws, briefly illuminating the scarlet fog with flashes of blue, black, and vermilion light.

Leon tried to regain his rhythm, but Abaddon gave him no opportunity. The demon attacked with savage precision, alternating between crushing blows and blindingly fast slashes. Leon parried one strike, redirected another, and barely avoided a third that tore through the space where his head had been a fraction of a second earlier.

The difference in power was absolute.

Abaddon dominated the exchange through raw strength and terrifying speed. Leon's careful preparation, his Simple Domain, and the flames coating Arondight were not enough to bridge the gap between them. Every calculated movement was overwhelmed by the demon's superior physical ability.

The Path of Burning Steps could adapt to offense or defense, but adaptation meant little when Leon was unable to establish a rhythm of his own.

Then Abaddon caught the blade.

The Ghost's claw closed around Arondight with startling ease. Leon felt the weapon jerk forward, and before he could release it, Abaddon yanked with enough force to tear him off the ground.

Leon's feet left the earth.

For one absurd moment, Arondight looked like a child's toy trapped in Abaddon's enormous hand. The legendary sword, forged from celestial metal and surrounded by flames hot enough to melt enchanted armor, seemed completely insignificant in the demon's hand.

Abaddon pulled Leon closer.

Then he threw him.

The Angel of Death hurled Leon through the forest like a projectile. A thunderous, bear-like laugh followed him into the trees, reverberating through the crimson fog as the demon watched his body vanish into the sea of trees.

Leon shot through the air like a arrow.

He collided with one tree, then another, and then another. Each impact shattered bark and sent splinters exploding outward. His body spiraled uncontrollably, thrashing through the air like a fish stranded on dry land while curses tore from his throat.

He could barely see.

The world fractured into streaks of red fog, broken branches, and spinning shadows. Every attempt to focus on a single detail failed as the forest blurred around him. His senses strained against the impossible speed of his flight, pushing his perception far beyond what his eyes and mind were capable of processing.

Amid the chaos, a voice echoed through the carnage.

At first, Leon did not recognize it.

Then he realized it was his own voice, screaming in agony.

His body continued to hurtle forward with such force that the air around him began to shimmer. He looked like a comet tearing across the sky, a blazing fragment of destruction launched through the forest. Trees exploded on impact, their trunks splintering beneath the momentum driving him forward.

Yet the destruction did not slow him.

It made him faster.

With every tree he demolished, the shockwaves propelled him farther ahead. His speed continued to climb until the air itself seemed ready to ignite around him.

The damage to his body grew worse by the second.
Bones cracked and shattered beneath the strain. Muscles tore. Scratches and deep cuts opened across his skin as splintered wood and debris struck him from every direction. Blood streamed from the corners of his eyes, and his skull twisted with a wet, fleshy crunch when his head slammed into another massive trunk.

Leon coughed violently.

Clots of blood burst from his mouth and scattered behind him, vanishing into the trail of destruction left in his wake.

He was losing control.

If he continued moving like this, his body would be destroyed before he could even turn the attack into an advantage.

Leon forced his fingers to tighten despite the agony coursing through them. His lungs burned. His vision flickered. Every nerve screamed for him to surrender to the momentum.

He refused.

"Phoenix Dash," he rasped into the rushing air.
His voice was nearly swallowed by the thunder of collapsing trees and the violent roar of his own passage through the forest. Even so, the words carried his intent.

The surrounding mana responded.

Red sparks began to form around Leon's battered body. At first, they were little more than flickering points of crimson light, resembling bolts of miniature lightning. More appeared with every passing instant, multiplying and growing brighter as they circled him.

The sparks snapped through the air.

Then they ignited.

Crimson flames burst from each point of light, twisting and dancing around Leon as though an entire flock of fiery birds had surrounded him. The flames spiraled faster and faster, weaving through the red lightning and swallowing his battered form in a blazing vortex.

The pressure around him changed.

For a single instant, the forest seemed to hold its breath.

Then Leon disappeared.

A trail of red lightning remained in his wake, carving a jagged path through the crimson haze. A reverberating boom followed a moment later, a distorted burst of static and thunder that shook the surrounding trees and rolled across the crimson forest.

Phoenix Dash transforms Leon into a tiny sphere of roaring red flames, granting him intangibility as he glides effortlessly across the terrain. Weaving through the blood-drenched trees, Leon meticulously surveys the forest.

Trees, trees, and more trees.

That's all that fills his vision.

Until it doesn't.

Thunderous rumbling echo across the mountain range. Stone and brick surge from the earth as ancient and medieval edifices spring to life. Siege towers from various epochs emerge from nothingness, morphing the forest into a genuine warzone.

In my fleeting stupor, I reverted to my normal form, staring up at the newly erected siege towers.

Is this also part of Abaddon's domain?

The power to conjure heavily fortified watchtowers from bygone eras hardly seems advantageous.

Could it be a tactic to disorient me? Or does he merely wish to transform the battlefield into his own personal playground?

Regardless of the motive, it unnerved Leon, making him more anxious than usual.

"ACK!" Leon shouted.

A brutal strike to his spine hurled Leon through the freshly constructed siege towers. Stone, brick, mortar, and blood rained from above as Leon obliterated numerous structures before regaining his balance atop one.

A massive object soared skyward before plummeting through the crimson clouds, heading straight for Leon's position.

Dashing toward the edge of the tower, Leon leaped off. Yet, just as he was about to flee, Abaddon landed on the roof of the watchtower, seizing Leon's right leg as he barreled through the tower, dragging him down into the shattered siege tower.

Leon was thrown into the bottom level of the ancient structure, shattering every bone in his body. Yet, the Flames of Rebirth awaited such a moment.

They danced over all of Leon's wounds, restoring them to nothingness.

Abaddon aimed both of his feet at Leon's skull, poised to crush him with a single blow.

Dazed, Leon took too long to activate Phoenix Dash, nearly leading to a second untimely demise.

Transforming into a Fire Sprite at the last possible moment, Leon managed to escape through the chaos.