The Hero Returns with his Yandere Wife-Chapter 17 - 16

The rooftop trembled under the weight of shattered concrete and the stench of burnt flesh wafting up from the streets below. Glass shards glittered like fallen stars, scattered across the cracked surface, reflecting the faint neon glow of a city drowning in its own ruin. The air was sharp—electric with the promise of violence, thick with the acrid tang of smoke and blood.

Ryn stood at the edge, his silhouette framed against the jagged skyline, flames licking lazily from his fingertips. His golden eyes gleamed, predatory and alive, drinking in the chaos he'd wrought. Catapony was gone—reduced to a crimson smear splattered across the pavement far below. The thrill of it still buzzed in his veins, a fleeting high he'd chased for a decade and finally caught.

But it wasn't enough.

Not yet.

He rolled his shoulders, the motion slow and deliberate, as if savoring the tension coiling in his muscles. His grin widened, sharp and mocking, as he turned to face the three figures spilling onto the rooftop.

Kellan.

The S-rank titan loomed like a battered monument, his broad frame hunched, his metallic arm glinting dully under the moonlight. His dark eyes flickered with something between rage and fear, his bruised lips curling into a snarl. Beside him, the A-rank swordsman shifted his stance, his blade humming faintly—a sleek crescent of steel that pulsed with faint blue energy. The third, the metal-skinned brute, cracked his knuckles, his silver flesh rippling like liquid mercury, his expression blank but his intent clear.

They stared at Ryn.

He stared back.

For a heartbeat, the world held its breath.

Then—

Kellan's growl broke the silence, low and guttural, reverberating off the shattered walls.

"You think you're untouchable, Fireboy?" His voice was rough, strained, but laced with defiance. "Catapony's mush now, sure—but you're not walking off this roof."

Ryn tilted his head, his grin unfaltering.

"Big words, Kellan." His tone was light, taunting, dripping with amusement. "Last time we danced, you were kissing the dirt. Ready for round two?"

Kellan's fists clenched, the glow reigniting in his hands, faint tremors rippling through the concrete beneath him. "This time's different."

The swordsman stepped forward, his blade slicing the air in a sharp arc, the hum growing louder. "He's not alone, hotshot."

The metal-skinned brute said nothing, his silver fists rising, his stance widening.

Ryn's laugh was soft, almost a purr.

"Good. I was starting to get bored."

Below, the building groaned, the aftermath of Catapony's explosive end still echoing through its bones. Dust swirled upward, a gritty veil that blurred the edges of the rooftop, but Ryn didn't flinch. His flames flared brighter, curling up his arms like living serpents, the heat warping the air around him.

The swordsman moved first.

A blur of motion—his blade slashed downward, a streak of blue light aimed at Ryn's chest. Fast. Precise.

Ryn sidestepped, the blade missing by inches, the energy singing the edge of his jacket. He didn't counter—just watched, amused, as the swordsman pivoted, lunging again.

This time, Ryn caught the blade.

Bare-handed.

Flames roared around his palm, swallowing the steel. The swordsman's eyes widened as the weapon glowed red-hot, the hum faltering. Ryn twisted—

SNAP.

The blade shattered, fragments raining down like molten raindrops.

The swordsman staggered back, clutching his singed hand, his breath hitching.

"Nice toy," Ryn mused, brushing ash off his fingers. "Got another?"

Kellan roared.

He charged, his glowing fists swinging in a brutal arc. The air cracked with the force, a shockwave ripping through the rooftop, splitting the concrete beneath Ryn's feet.

Ryn leapt.

High.

He twisted midair, flames trailing behind him like a comet's tail, and landed behind Kellan. Before the S-rank could turn, Ryn drove a molten fist into his spine.

CRACK.

Kellan stumbled forward, a grunt escaping his lips as the heat seared through his armor. He caught himself, spinning, his massive fist aimed at Ryn's skull—

Ryn ducked.

The metal-skinned brute was on him now, a silver blur slamming into his side. The impact sent Ryn skidding across the roof, boots scraping against stone, but he didn't fall. His grin widened.

"Finally," he breathed.

The brute pressed the attack, his fists a relentless barrage—metal against fire, each blow ringing like a hammer on an anvil. Ryn blocked, parried, his flames flaring with every strike, absorbing the heat of the clash.

Below, the sounds of battle filtered up—screams, explosions, the unmistakable hiss of Mira's shadows. The ground floor was a war zone, but up here, it was personal.

Kellan recovered, circling to Ryn's left, his fists pulsing brighter. The swordsman, blade gone, drew a pair of glowing daggers, his stance shaky but determined.

Three against one.

Ryn exhaled, his flames surging higher.

"Let's make this quick."

He moved.

A blur of fire and fury.

He slammed into the brute first—a flaming kick to the chest that sent the metal-skinned villain crashing into the rooftop's edge. The concrete buckled, the brute's silver form denting as he gasped, winded.

Kellan lunged—

Ryn spun, catching his wrist, twisting it back. The S-rank roared in pain, his free fist swinging wildly. Ryn let go, dodging under the blow, then drove an elbow into Kellan's jaw.

CRUNCH.

Blood sprayed, teeth clattering across the roof.

The swordsman darted in, daggers flashing—

Ryn grabbed his arm mid-strike, yanking him forward. A knee to the gut doubled the A-rank over, and a flaming uppercut sent him airborne. He landed in a heap, groaning, daggers skittering away.

Kellan wiped blood from his mouth, his growl feral.

"You bastard—"

He charged again, fists blazing.

Ryn met him head-on.

Fire clashed with force—a deafening collision that shook the rooftop, cracks spiderwebbing outward. Kellan's strength was monstrous, his fists driving Ryn back step by step, but Ryn's flames burned hotter, searing Kellan's knuckles with every blow.

The brute staggered to his feet, joining the fray—his silver fists hammering Ryn from behind.

Ryn grunted, caught between them.

For a moment, it looked bad.

Kellan's fist connected with Ryn's chest, a shockwave rippling through the air. The brute's metal knuckles grazed his ribs.

Read 𝓁atest chapters at fгeewёbnoѵel.cσm Only.

Ryn stumbled.

Kellan grinned, blood dripping from his chin.

"Got you—"

Ryn laughed.

A low, wild sound.

His flames erupted.

A supernova.

The rooftop blazed white-hot, heat swallowing everything. Kellan and the brute recoiled, shielding their faces, but it was too late.

Ryn's fist slammed into Kellan's chest—

BOOM.

The S-rank flew back, crashing through the rooftop's railing, tumbling into the night. His scream faded as he plummeted.

The brute swung blindly—

Ryn caught his arm, twisting it behind his back. A sharp jerk—

SNAP.

The metal-skinned villain howled, dropping to his knees.

Ryn kicked him forward, sending him sprawling into the swordsman, who was just rising. They collapsed together, a tangled heap of broken bodies.

Silence.

Ryn stood alone, chest heaving, flames flickering down to embers. Blood streaked his knuckles—none of it his. His golden eyes scanned the wreckage, his grin softening into something satisfied.

"Better," he muttered.

Below, the building shuddered—a reminder of the war still raging.

Mira.

Elena.

He turned toward the shattered stairwell, the glow of his flames casting long shadows.

I wonder how are they doing?