Read Rising from the Ashes (Andrew and Lauren) Novel by Only For You Updated 2025 -26 - Rising from the Ashes (Andrew and Lauren) Chapter 3250

Rising from the Ashes (Andrew and Lauren) Chapter 3250

Andrew and Pablo brushed past each other and collided again, trading another brutal blow. Andrew’s hand shot for Pablo’s throat with enough force to slice through steel. It left nothing but two faint marks. Breaking through his defense still felt impossible.

At the same time, Pablo’s strike slammed into Andrew’s chest. His organs convulsed violently, but his expression didn’t change. It was as if he felt nothing. Inside him, multiple forces surged at once, stabilizing the damage in an instant. Andrew pivoted and charged back in.

Philip watched in stunned disbelief. By now, every move between them was meant to kill. Any single strike could have wiped out a low-level martial god without question. This was raw power unleashed at point-blank range—terrifying and absolute.

Pablo roared, his fist crashing into Andrew three times in rapid succession. Andrew countered just as fast, striking Pablo’s forehead, temple, and groin—each blow aimed at a vital point. None of it worked. Pablo’s weaknesses seemed completely sealed by the Diamond Body Art. It was as if he had no vulnerable spots at all.

Andrew refused to accept that.

He lashed out again, sweeping his foot into Pablo’s shin. Pablo lost his balance and dropped to one knee. Killing intent burned in Andrew’s eyes. In the next instant, three bone spikes shot from his fingertips and drove straight toward the crown of Pablo’s head.

At that moment, Andrew wielded traits from both vampires and werewolves. One of them—the vampiric ability to shape his own bones into weapons sharper than blades—turned his body into a living arsenal.

Pablo finally howled, the sound thick with pain.

He slammed his palm into Andrew’s waist, force exploding like a collapsing mountain. That single strike could have crushed a heavily armored vehicle. Pain flickered across Andrew’s face, and blood spilled from his mouth. He didn’t make a sound.

Inside his body, ribs cracked in rapid succession. No one could tell how many shattered in that instant.

Ruthless resolve filled his eyes. He wrapped his legs around Pablo’s neck like coiling serpents. Ignoring the agony tearing through his waist, he twisted hard, dragging Pablo down. The two of them rolled across the ground in a violent tangle.

Wherever they passed, the earth collapsed, gouged into a deep trench.

A vicious red light flared in Andrew’s eyes. He seized Pablo’s head with both hands as bone spikes extended from his body again. Then he drove them straight into Pablo’s skull.

A sharp crack split the air—the spikes snapped.

Philip felt his scalp prickle just watching. It was like having fingernails ripped out by force, pain no ordinary person could survive. Andrew’s face drained of color, but he remained silent. He didn’t stop.

Under his relentless assault, blood finally seeped from the crown of Pablo’s head. It streamed down his face, turning him into a living mass of red.

They tore apart and staggered back. As they separated, broken spikes regrew from Andrew’s fingers—shorter now, less rigid than before, but still as hard as steel.

Without hesitation, he drove them back into the wound on Pablo’s head and twisted viciously.

Another surge of blood erupted.

The great master of the Hearstlands, Pablo, let out a muffled grunt. His body swayed, unsteady at last.