Reincarnated: I Became The First Warlord Of The World-Chapter 84

The bald-headed man kept walking, step by step. His eyes had no pity. No smile. No worry. His fists were clenched by his side. His body was calm, but every step sounded like thunder to Jonathan.

Inside the pile of broken bricks, Jonathan couldn’t move much. The weight of everything on top of him made his chest feel tight. The dust made it hard to breathe. His face was scraped, and blood was already leaking from his nose again.

He couldn’t see anything just darkness, he could only hear the sound of slow, steady footsteps coming closer.

Tap... Tap... Tap...

Jonathan clenched his teeth. His head was spinning, but he tried to lift his hand.

Crack, a sharp pain shot through his shoulder like a bolt of lightning.

He hissed through his teeth. "Argh..."

He tried again, this time pushing against the bricks with his elbow. His body shook, the pain wasn’t just inside his bones—it was everywhere.

Every little breath hurt. Every twitch of muscle felt like it would tear something, he had taken many hits in his life... but this one?

This one was different, Outside, the bald-headed man now stood in front of the collapsed building. He crossed his arms and tilted his head to the side, like he was thinking.

Then he smirked coldly.

"You’re still breathing, aren’t you?" the man said.

His voice was calm, like someone talking to a weak animal.

"I can hear your heartbeat from here. Slow... but still going."

Jonathan’s fingers twitched under the rubble. He was listening. He could hear the man clearly.

The bald-headed man stepped forward and cracked his knuckles.

"I’m going to give you five seconds," he said in a voice that sounded more like a warning than a threat.

"Five seconds to get your ass up... or I’ll punch through this mountain of bricks myself."

He paused and flexed his fingers, and then his eyes grew cold again.

"And trust me... if I’m the one pulling you out, you won’t be walking ever again."

Jonathan could hear him clearly. Every word the bald-headed man said felt like a stone landing on his chest. The voice was cold. Confident. Dangerous.

But Jonathan couldn’t move. Not yet, his body didn’t respond. His arms felt numb. His legs refused to shift. Even blinking felt like lifting a mountain.

"Okay," the bald-headed man said calmly, standing outside the rubble. "Five seconds up."

He didn’t even count. He didn’t need to, Jonathan’s heart sank.

He knew the man wasn’t bluffing. That guy would punch through the bricks and drag him out like trash. If he got hit one more time... he might pass out.

Or worse... he might die, the fear crept in fast, crawling through his chest. His breathing grew faster. His hands trembled under the bricks.

He had to move, he had to get up.

Jonathan bit down hard. He gritted his teeth until his gums felt like they’d bleed. His arms shook as he pushed against the heavy rubble above him.

"Argh—" a painful cry escaped his lips, but he didn’t stop.

Not now, the bricks shifted. A few rolled off his shoulder. His arm was shaking so badly it felt like it would snap, but he kept pushing.

One breath. One more push, he grunted and used the little strength left in his waist to twist his body, Crack, Pain exploded through his side.

His face twisted. His brows tightened. But he didn’t stop, he was not going to let an Alphacrest soldier defeat him—not now.

Even if that soldier was a commander... or a general... or whatever else they were called, he was Jonathan, he came to fight, He came to protect.

And no one—not even some muscle-headed freak with fancy boots and a smooth bald head—was going to stop him.

"I’m not... done yet..." Jonathan whispered through clenched teeth as he pushed himself up from beneath the rubble, brick by heavy brick, the pain was unbearable, but his eyes burned with something stronger than fear, Fire, he was coming out.

Even if he had to crawl out with broken bones, he would stand again, he refused to lose, he refused to die in the hands of an Alphacrest soldier, not here. Not like this.

Jonathan gritted his teeth as pain ran through his chest. His head was heavy. His whole body felt like it was sinking into the ground. But his heart didn’t stop burning. Something inside him—something deep—kept shouting at him not to give up.

Not now.

He took a deep breath—one so deep it made his ribs feel like they might crack. He held it in his lungs for a second longer. That breath... it wasn’t just air, It was strength, It was fight, and just like that... he stood, Slowly, shakily, but he stood.

The moment his feet touched the ground fully, a sudden force burst around him. The bricks that had covered him just moments ago flew in different directions like a storm had passed through. Dust lifted in the air. Pieces of stone shattered against the nearby walls.

His eyes were half-closed from the blood dripping down his forehead, but he could still see it, the bald-headed man, he was rushing forward, fast, too fast.

But Jonathan didn’t panic. His breathing was sharp, but steady. His body was hurting, but his heart was firm.

The bald-headed man was coming with a different kind of force this time. His right hand was clenched, and the air around his fist twisted and cracked. Jonathan’s heart jumped inside his chest. That hit wasn’t something he could take head-on.

It was the kind of punch that could break mountains, and it was coming for him, right now, Jonathan grunted and pushed off the ground, using every bit of energy he could pull out from his soul.

"Varnishing Step!"

He muttered under his breath, In that moment, his figure flickered, the wind shifted.

The bald-headed man’s eyes widened—but it was already too late, Jonathan had vanished, Jonathan moved just in time, Barely. 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝒆𝔀𝒆𝙗𝓷𝒐𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝓶

He didn’t escape clean, but he shifted his body enough for the blow to miss his heart. The attack brushed past his shoulder with a loud sound—BOOM!—like thunder crashing too close. The air cracked and the ground behind him broke like glass, Jonathan flew backward from the force, tumbling hard to the side, Dust filled the place again.

His body hit the ground, rolled once, then stopped. Blood came out of the side of his lips. He was shaking. He couldn’t even lift his arms for a second. But he was still alive.

Still breathing, not far away, the bald-headed man slowly dropped his hand. His eyes were a little wide now. His eyebrows raised as he watched Jonathan try to sit up.

"What?" the man muttered.

He blinked once, and for the first time... he looked unsure, that punch—that punch was his most powerful skill, nobody had ever gotten back up after it, Not once.

In every battle, that move ended things. It crushed ribs. Broke backs. Stopped breathing. And the man had used it with full force, like he always did.

Yet here this boy was...Jonathan’s arms shook as he forced himself to his knees.

Sweat rolled down his face. His lips were bleeding. His legs barely held steady. But he didn’t fall.

He didn’t beg, he didn’t crawl away, he looked up... straight into the bald man’s eyes, and he was still burning with that same fire, that same will.

The bald-headed man took one step back, he didn’t mean to, but he did, his lips tightened.

"...How is he still alive?" he whispered under his breath.

The bald-headed man’s lips pressed into a thin line as he remembered something that made his chest tighten.

At that moment Jonathan didn’t just kill Finn, he humiliated him.

Jonathan had taken down Finn without giving him even a chance to throw one punch. No dodge, no block, no counter. Finn didn’t land a finger, that was why he came at Jonathan with everything from the start, that was why he didn’t play around.

But now, standing here, seeing Jonathan still breathing after taking his full-force hit... his stomach started to twist.

"No," the man muttered under his breath. "This boy is something else."

His eyes narrowed, his fists clenched. He took a deep breath, his chest rising high and fast. His face turned darker as he prepared to strike again.

"I’ll end it now," he growled.

But the moment he moved he froze, ac hill ran down his spine, a strange pressure pressed against the back of his neck, and just like that, he knew, Someone was behind him.

His eyes widened in pure shock. Slowly, almost in disbelief, he turned his neck just enough to peek over his shoulder.

Jonathan was there, standing. Calm, too calm, his eyes didn’t blink, his breath was quiet, his fist was already drawn back, ready to strike.

"...Impossible," the bald-headed man whispered as his heart skipped a beat.