Reincarnated: I Became The First Warlord Of The World-Chapter 86

The bald-headed man let out a wild roar as his fist flew forward like a boulder crashing down a hill. His voice echoed through the air, deep and full of power. His muscles tensed. His eyes were locked onto Jonathan like a lion going in for the final kill.

There was no pulling back now. Not from this His thoughts screamed inside his head.

"This is it! This time, I’m ending that brat!"

The dirt on the ground kicked up from the power in his feet. His body spun into motion. The wind cracked beside his punch, and the buildings nearby trembled as if they feared what was coming.

He was sure—this one was going to hit.

The fool had opened his mouth.He had talked.

He had made the mistake of saying something before striking.

"Too foolish," the bald-headed man growled under his breath. "Too green."

His fist was about to land, just inches from tearing Jonathan apart, when—woosh—Jonathan was no longer there.

Gone.Like smoke.

Like he was never there in the first place The bald-headed man’s eyes burst wide. His feet skidded forward from the force of the missed punch. His body nearly stumbled.

"What?!"

He turned around quickly, confused. His heart pounded.

His voice cracked out:

"Where—?"

And that was when he heard it.

Jonathan’s calm, deep voice, like someone who wasn’t afraid Like someone who had been watching from above Jonathan’s voice came from behind him, quiet but sharp like a blade:

"Being old doesn’t mean you are wise!"

Jonathan didn’t waste a second.

The moment he finished speaking, his fist tightened. His body leaned forward. His eyes sharpened like a blade. And then—BAM!—he slammed his fist straight into the bald-headed man’s face.

The man’s eyes stretched wide in shock.

He didn’t see it coming He couldn’t move he couldn’t block he couldn’t even blink.

His mouth opened slightly like he wanted to say something, but no words came out. His brain was still trying to understand what just happened.

"How is he still this fast?" the man thought.

"How did he move again without me seeing it?"

His chest was heaving, His arms hung low, his legs? They were trembling like they couldn’t carry his weight anymore.

He was tired, he was done.

His whole body was telling him that this was the end. And the fear in his heart grew fast—he was completely out of strength. His magic was drained. He had nothing left.

"Damn it..." he whispered in his mind.

BOOM! Jonathan’s fist landed with full force.

A loud bang filled the sky.

The punch didn’t just hit him—it carried his whole body flying like a rag doll tossed by a storm.

BOOM! BOOM! CRASH!

His body smashed through one building Then another.

And another. Windows shattered.

Walls broke apart.Smoke rose from the air.

By the time his body stopped flying, he had torn through almost five tall buildings.

Then—BAM!

His body crashed to the ground and didn’t move again.

The bald-headed man lay there, gasping His body was weak.

His face was covered with blood, thick and sticky. His uniform was torn like paper, burnt at the edges, and his boots were gone. His whole chest felt crushed. One of his arms didn’t even move anymore.

He groaned. His head was spinning.

"That brat..." he whispered.

He didn’t believe what just happened. Jonathan—just a fourth-stage soldier—had done this to him? How? It didn’t make sense. He had fought so many people. He had crushed stronger men, even generals.

But this one... this boy... was something else.

"If I wasn’t at the eighth stage, I’d be dead already," he thought. "That punch... that speed... that pressure... Where the hell is he from?"

He clenched his jaw, trying to move, but pain shot through his back.

"I have to stand... I can’t end here... not like this."

He barely lifted his elbow when—boom—Jonathan landed right in front of him. The sound alone made his eyes twitch. Jonathan didn’t speak right away.

He just looked down at him Quiet.

Serious Deadly His eyes said everything.

This wasn’t a boy. Not anymore. This was a soldier, a killer, and he wasn’t going to let this fight end without death.

The bald-headed man tried to speak.

"Y-You think this is over?" he coughed, his voice weak. "I still—"

Jonathan cut him off. His voice was calm... but heavy.

"This is your end."

Those four words sent chills through the old soldier’s spine. He opened his mouth again but nothing came out. His throat was dry. He tried to move—tried anything—but his body refused him.

Jonathan’s fist rose into the air.

And the bald-headed man saw it... saw his death coming.

"No... not like this—"

BOOM! The fist slammed down.

Or at least, that was what he expected. But the very moment the blow dropped—WHOOSH!

He vanished.

Right before impact.

Gone.

Jonathan’s punch hit the ground instead, shaking the floor with thunder.

Jonathan’s eyes moved fast, scanning the area. He knew what just happened. He didn’t smile. He didn’t frown. He simply muttered:

"Coward."

He slowly turned his head, already guessing the man’s new position.

He appeared again.

The bald-headed man showed up in a new spot, his boots sliding against the cracked ground. His body trembled a little as he tried to catch his breath, but his face still held pride. He turned sharply to face Jonathan with a forced smile.

"You think you’re the only one who can vanish from a fight?" he said, his voice low and proud. "I can do that too."

He started to smirk, wanting to speak more, but suddenly—just like that—Jonathan was already behind him.

Again, His body stiffened.

Jonathan’s voice came like ice.

"I know you could," he said slowly. "But your movements are too slow. Too easy. I could see them from the beginning."

The bald-headed man’s body froze on the spot. His smile disappeared. His heart skipped a beat.

He didn’t understand. 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝚠𝚎𝚋𝗻𝗼𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝚘𝐦

"What?" he whispered to himself.

He was sure he had snuck in perfectly. His footstep didn’t make a sound. He had used his highest-level vanishing skill—something even generals feared—and yet this boy, this kid, saw him?

His lips parted. His fingers twitched.

He wanted to move, to say something, but for the first time since this fight began... he felt truly naked. Not because his body was hurt. But because this boy had stripped away his pride.

He remembered now. When he first entered the battlefield—Jonathan hadn’t looked surprised.

He hadn’t reacted in fear He knew.

All along.

The bald-headed man’s face darkened. His pride felt like dust in his throat.

He wasn’t fighting just a Dreamway soldier anymore.

He was fighting something else.

No wonder No wonder the man didn’t come into the smoke earlier.

He knew. He was afraid.

He had sensed it. That’s why he stood on top of the dead soldier and waited. Watching. Guessing.

Jonathan’s jaw tightened. His cheeks moved as his anger boiled over.

"Coward," he muttered.

Then—without a second thought—Jonathan’s fist slammed right into the man’s face with full force. The hit sent a shock through the man’s skull. His eyes shook wildly.

"I’ve been reading your movements all along," Jonathan shouted, stepping forward with another punch. "You’re no match for me!"

The man’s body snapped backward from the next blow. But Jonathan wasn’t done. Not even close. His voice roared.

"Fury Fist: ULTRA PLUS!!"

Then it began—a storm of punches.

BAM! BAM! BAM!

Jonathan’s fists were wild, sharp, and fast. One hit after another. He didn’t stop. His arms moved like fire, hitting the man from every direction.

"This is for every soldier you’ve killed!" Jonathan yelled.

"This is for lying to the people!"

"This is for Charles... and what you all did to Dreamway!"

The bald-headed man couldn’t block, Couldn’t dodge. Couldn’t breathe.

His body bent, broke, twisted—each punch dug into him like iron smashing a wall.

And yet Jonathan’s eyes weren’t cold.

They were filled with fire. Pure will. He wasn’t just fighting with fists—he was fighting with everything in his soul.

The ground beneath them cracked.

The wind burst in all directions The sky itself felt like it was holding its breath. And in that moment—it was clear. Jonathan wasn’t a weak soldier anymore.

He was the storm, No wonder.

No wonder the man didn’t step into the smoke.

He knew He was watching from the shadows, thinking Jonathan wouldn’t notice.

But Jonathan did Jonathan’s cheeks moved slightly. His lips pulled back just a little. His eyes were sharp—too sharp to be fooled.

Then—BOOM!

Jonathan’s fist slammed into the man’s face.

"I’ve been reading your movements all along," Jonathan said, his voice low and serious. "You are no match for me!!!"

The bald-headed man’s body jerked back—but Jonathan wasn’t done.

Not even close His voice rose like thunder.

"Fury Fist: Ultra Plus!!!"

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

Punch after punch, blast after blast.

His arms moved so fast, they looked like blurs. His fists hit the man’s body like lightning. Hard. Fast. Angry. Real.

The sound of the punches echoed through the broken buildings around them.