Read Rising from the Ashes (Andrew and Lauren) Novel by Only For You Updated 2025 -26 - Rising from the Ashes (Andrew and Lauren) Chapter 3005

Rising from the Ashes (Andrew and Lauren) Chapter 3005

On the walls of Abyss City, Nyx watched Andrew take on two opponents at once. Her slender hands clenched her blue-glowing daggers so tightly that her knuckles whitened. She was worried—though she knew, rationally, that it was probably unnecessary.

Andrew had become so powerful that even she could no longer keep pace with him. He had only just stepped into the Martial God realm, yet his strength was absurd, far beyond reason. Nyx couldn’t fully comprehend it. Perhaps it had something to do with his omni-constitution. Or perhaps it was because he carried the powers of the werewolf clan, the vampire clan, and even the Cathedral’s holy light.

Darkness and light—forces that should have torn each other apart—were perfectly balanced within Andrew’s body. Nyx didn’t want to think about how such opposing powers could coexist so harmoniously. She only knew one thing: from this moment on, she would follow this man without hesitation.

Once, Nyx had believed she was meant to be a swift—forever flying, crossing thousands of miles, soaring toward the farthest western lands. She loved those birds, creatures that spent their entire lives migrating across mountains, seas, and endless oceans, never stopping, always moving.

She had thought she was the same.

Except for Reginald, she would never stop for anyone. Life already felt lonely enough. Back then, all she wanted was to wander alone, see every corner of the world, and eventually fall into a quiet, eternal sleep.

Then she met a man even younger than herself—one who later claimed her by force.

At first, Nyx had been confused, furious, even tempted to teach Andrew a harsh lesson. But slowly, without realizing it, she became lost in him. She had to admit it—this man was captivating. She had fallen for him.

So deeply that now, every movement he made filled her with endless worry. If Andrew left her sight for even a moment, a hollow emptiness settled in her chest.

Knox and Juno had both noticed. Knox had even laughed loudly, teasing that Dragonfang’s ice queen had finally been conquered by Andrew. Nyx had nearly taught that loudmouth a painful lesson—but in the end, she let it go.

Being conquered wasn’t so bad.

At least she was no longer alone.

A massive sword aura exploded outward in all directions.

Andrew’s attacks were wide, brutal, and utterly direct.

And that was the truth—when power reached a certain level, it could shatter anything in existence. Techniques, tricks, and styles became meaningless before a single overwhelming strike. As long as that blow was absolute, domineering, and strong enough to destroy everything in its path, nothing else mattered.

With a muffled groan, Lysander swallowed the blood surging up his throat and retreated in terror.

He had driven his fist into Andrew’s chest at the same moment Andrew’s greatsword slammed into him. Originally, his coordinated attack with Kass had relied on Kass’s holy light shield to block the strike.

But the dark energy radiating from Andrew devoured the holy light outright, overwhelming it with sheer dominance.

In effect, Lysander had absorbed nearly two-thirds of the force from that blow.

It wasn’t even the sword’s full power.

Yet just that much was enough to chill him to the bone.

Kass hastily flipped through the Sacred Scripture, his expression turning grave as he began to pray once more.

He raised a finger.

A bolt of golden lightning tore down from the heavens, crashing straight toward Andrew.

With the aid of sacred relics, Cathedral warriors could borrow a fragment of their Lord’s power. Andrew still didn’t know where that power truly originated—but he was absolutely certain of one thing.

There was no real deity standing behind the Lomuia Grand Cathedral.

If such a being truly existed, a single glance would be enough to reduce every faction in the Wastelands to ashes.

With a low roar, Andrew lifted his greatsword high above his head.

A storm of blood-red energy spiraled around the blade, flaring outward as if he had suddenly grown hair dozens of yards long.

Dark crimson power surged from deep within him, flooding into the greatsword.

Andrew had never felt better.

His pupils naturally shifted to a black-red hue—eerily calm, tinged with a faint, unsettling hint of malevolence.