Chapter 110: Summoners War 9 Who is Fex

Words : 1517 Updated : Oct 4th, 2025

Chapter 110 of "Awakening with two legendary Summons" opens introducing the plot: Chapter 110: Summoners War 9 Who is Fex The entire infirmary floor trembled violently, as if... Continue exploring!

Chapter 110: Summoners War 9 Who is Fex The entire infirmary floor trembled violently, as if a bomb had detonated—but no bomb had gone off. Instead, it was the clash of monsters. A brutal confrontation had erupted between Silver, the Nyxaris, and two Abyssal-ranked beasts. Flames engulfed the entire vicinity—walls, ceilings, even Silver herself. She stood amidst the chaos like a demon risen from the inferno. The fire obeyed her command, cloaking her body like a second skin. It was as though she had drenched herself in petrol and lit a match, yet her flesh remained untouched, unburned. She was fire incarnate. The Nyxaris launched forward, its speed blinding. A blur—so fast even Silver’s sharp senses struggled to track it. But she had prepared for this. The flames surrounding her surged in response, forming a dome of blazing heat. As the Nyxaris closed in, it suddenly leapt backward, hissing in frustration. The heat was too intense. It wasn’t that it couldn’t withstand the flames, but there was hesitation—fear. Deep-rooted survival instincts whispered to its mind not to take unnecessary damage. The Abyssal beasts, however, held no such reservations. They lunged for Silver, claws bared, monstrous mouths open with primal intent. The first beast never made it. From the heart of Silver’s fire, her Phoenix burst forward with a thunderous cry, slamming into the creature and sending it crashing through a wall—then another, the force folding concrete like paper. The second beast charged without pause. It was already upon her. Silver twisted her body, narrowly avoiding the swipe of its claws. As her boots scraped the scorched floor, she thrust her hands forward, channeling molten rage into raw destruction. Not just flames, but a river of molten lava surged forth, splashing against the beast’s skin. It shrieked—a horrible, agonizing sound—then collapsed to its side, writhing as the lava scorched deep into its flesh. But it didn’t die. Instead, the wounds stitched themselves shut within seconds, sinew and muscle reknitting as though time itself rewound. ’This is why they’re ranked Abyssal. Their healing is insane. If I want to kill it, I need to release something far more devastating—something that can overwhelm even their regenerative limits.’ Her thought barely completed when the danger escalated. A chunk of stone—a pillar, freshly ripped from the collapsing infirmary—whistled through the air. Silver’s eyes widened. The Nyxaris had hurled it with precision. She didn’t have time to dodge. There was no choice. She let out a sharp breath, extending both arms and erupting a column of fire that incinerated the projectile in midair. Stone melted into ash. But that had been a trap. Before she could react further, the Nyxaris appeared at her side like a phantom, its fist slamming viciously into her ribs. The impact rattled through her body. She stumbled back, her footing faltering. Pain rippled through her chest. She clenched her teeth. She couldn’t afford to show weakness. She re-centered herself, planting her boots firmly on the scorched ground. The Nyxaris smirked. It lunged again—this time, faster. Silver hadn’t recovered. She couldn’t raise a defense in time. Its fist connected—right against her face. But this time, it screamed. As soon as its knuckles touched her skin, they ignited. Flesh sizzled. Bone crumbled. It was as though it had plunged its arm into the heart of a volcano. "Keeeukk!" the Nyxaris shrieked, staggering back, clutching its arm as flames devoured it. But the fire did not relent. It clung to the limb like a curse—an infection eating into his very being. In desperation, the Nyxaris used its other hand and tore the burning arm off, just below the elbow. It threw the smoldering remains to the ground, panting. "I underestimated you," the Nyxaris hissed. Silver’s breathing was ragged. She stood, barely. There was a limit to her powers. Her ability wasn’t meant for prolonged combat. For every second she burned brighter, she edged closer to collapse. Her body grew hotter, and once it crossed a threshold—her system would begin to shut down. That moment had nearly arrived. Her uniform, made from Abyssal-ranked fibers, had begun to melt from her rising internal temperature. Her once-protective suit had disintegrated to scorched remnants—a half-burnt shirt clinging to her upper body and short trousers that grew smaller with every breath. Her vision blurred. ’Nausea... perfect timing.’ Her phoenix had at least done its part—it had slain one of the beasts. She allowed herself a small moment of pride. But that moment was brief. No one was coming to save her. And now—her legs buckled. No strike landed, no power touched her, yet she fell. Her body gave out, collapsing backward with a heavy thud. She lay there—barely conscious, stripped down to nearly nothing, helpless. The Nyxaris watched her, then smirked. "Your integration finally ran out. The common weakness of humanity." It raised its stump of an arm. In seconds, a new limb erupted from the flesh, fully formed—perfect. "The perfect being will never be defeated by its own power," it declared with solemn pride, striding toward her like executioner to the gallows. Silver remained motionless. Her summon had vanished the moment her energy failed. Her body no longer moved. She was just a target now. A corpse in waiting. As the Nyxaris stood above her, lifting its foot—preparing to crush her head—the only thing she could think of was Lloyd. His voice echoed in her mind. Again and again. She muttered his words, lips trembling, tears mingling with sweat. And then— CRACK. A sickening crunch echoed as blood splattered across the floor. Silver was dead. --- ’So cold... It’s so goddamn cold.’ He staggered, coughing. His legs barely held him up. ’Everything’s blurry. I might puke...’ He stumbled into the alley, gasping for breath. His chest ached from the sprint. Of course he felt dazed. Anyone would after a run like that. He turned his gaze, bile rising up his throat. He clenched his jaw, forcing it back down. Then he saw them—figures in the alley. A group of men stood there, dressed like cultists or lunatics celebrating Halloween out of season. Among them was a boy held lifelessly in one’s arms. Hair... black? Or was it brown? No—it was black. His thoughts swam in a murky soup of confusion. But something about the scene snapped him back. A man entered the alley. His steps were casual, but every movement carried weight. Every step made the cultists freeze. Not out of curiosity. Out of reverence. They recognized him. And they feared him. The man paused. "My—my..." he muttered, swaying. Then he bent forward, vomiting a torrent of ale. The smell hit the air, sharp and bitter. "Disgusting..." he muttered, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "You guys made me puke." He glared at the masked figures, more sober now. Something had shifted in him. The dizziness vanished—his eyes sharp and focused. He shoved his hands into his pockets and walked forward with calm authority. "That’s my student, Thorne faction. Let him go." The leader didn’t respond at first. Then a low grunt came through the mask. "He’s already dead," he said. "We can’t let you take his body." The man’s eyes narrowed. "Dead?" he murmured, more to himself. "Well, if that’s the case... I guess I can’t interrupt a faction’s mission." He paused, lips curling into a faint smile. "But this is a military zone. You made me spill my drink. Which means, if I want, I can kill you all with a single complaint." The cult leader raised his hand—a signal to his men. "Be ready," he barked. "That bastard is Fex. I don’t need to explain his history. Just find a way to escape with the body. Now." The others froze. Confused. Why not fight? Why avoid the man? Who was Fex? The tension snapped tight like a wire. And then silence. The alley grew colder. Eyes locked. No one moved first. Only the dead boy remained between them—between death and war. ***Author’s note*** Thank you for all the gift and support up till this moment. This is the main arc of the second volume so we should get ready for the mass release, the twist, plot and finally when the book plot finally hits the way I want it to. It’s finally that moment where we can push through the peak battles and all so let’s get ready. Sorry for the really late release nowadays, facing a lot in life, relationship and money issues, I’m barely pushing everyday and for now the release might sway from 1 to 5 or anyhow it is, but surely I will release every single day but you should just bare with me until things get better. In the meantime support the book with gifts and vote your favorite character, always engage and send power stones and golden tickets. I hope things turn out well for me soon because I miss releasing 5 Chapters per day and it’s almost like there isn’t anytime in the day, so thank you for the current support. The massage chair and golden tickets.

Chapter 110: Summoners War 9 Who is Fex

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