Rising from the Ashes (Andrew and Lauren) novel Chapter 1580

In the blink of an eye, the two had exchanged over a hundred blows, each strike booming like muffled thunder inside the tomb.

"You know that much about my background? Tell me—who the hell are you?" Stanley roared, stunned.

Fury flared in his chest, but beneath it was something far more dangerous—fear. He could not see through Andrew at all. Worse, he could feel this young man's power seemed somehow suppressed or restrained.

If he were to unleash his full strength without any limitations, Stanley feared that even with his 100 years of training—hell, even with another 100 years—he would face nothing but the miserable fate of being crushed to death.

That horrifying realization crept deeper with every strike.

Andrew was simply unfathomable, making even an old monster like himself feel completely exposed and vulnerable as if he had been stripped naked.

Andrew's movements flowed like a celestial dragon, swift and fluid as he soared forward. Energy surged between his palms, spiraling into a visible force.

Stanley did not dare block—it was pure instinct to dodge. However, Andrew's form exploded into a blur of afterimages, and his speed reached the absolute limit of human capability.

In an instant, he executed a complex maneuver and landed a brilliant palm strike squarely on Stanley's chest with perfect precision.

Stanley reeled backward, coughing up a wave of blood as his chest caved under the force. "Dragon-Slaying Palm—you're actually using the Dragon-Slaying Palm… You're from the royal Lloyds bloodline of Holtrien, aren't you?

"The palace upheaval, the warlord era, the overseas conflicts… The Lloyds were behind all of it! A hundred years ago when we formed The Octet Accord, and even now internationally, the most troublesome Holtrien power is the Lloyds—that damned Lloyd royal family!

Stanley's voice cracked with the weight of this revelation.

He mumbled, "The Lloyds have actually produced another chosen one! H-How is this even possible?"

In a series of trembling realizations, Stanley suddenly turned and fled desperately toward the center of the lake without any regard for his dignity. Only by obtaining the Elixir of Immortality would he have any chance of survival.

At that moment, his mind was sharp—crystal clear.

A century ago, and even in the century before that, both his ancestors and he himself had learned a harsh lesson that was now burned into their collective memory. The Blood-Eyed Black Dragon Mark of Holtrien's Lloyd royal family had only one meaning, and that meaning was absolutely terrifying—the arrival of Death itself.