Fwoooosh!The flames roared around me. Fierce and wild—like they meant to devour the entire world—they surged violently from my body. Gray ashes spun in the air as the blaze intensified.
"What the…!" Astaroth shouted, his voice laced with urgency. He called forth the Blessing of Distortion, and a violet aura spread like a spiderweb, warping the space around him. It swelled into a massive shield, enveloping him completely.
Crash! Crack! Shatter!My flaming sword met the distorted space. Where it had once been deflected, it now pushed forward, carving through with overwhelming force. The more I pressed, the more violently the fire burned. The sword, engulfed in flame, sliced straight through the distortion.
"This is insane…!" Astaroth barely managed to cry out.
My blade shot through the split space like a beam of light.
Slash!"Aaaaargh!"His scream ripped through the air as his left arm was severed. Blood poured from the stump as he clutched it, staggering back.
"Damn it!" he snarled, fury erupting in his expression. Gone was the calm, composed archbishop. Now, he was nothing but rage and disbelief.
"I'm so sick of this!" he spat.
Sure, I expected variables. Plans never go perfectly—but even so…
'This is ridiculous!'I'd shattered his Veil of Illusion, a barrier born from the sacrifice of two hundred subordinates, in mere moments. I was a mere cadet, not even officially a hero. Yet I wielded power beyond any professor. Even after he'd managed to kill me—I'd come back. Again.
'I thought he'd run out of mana. That he wouldn't be able to interfere this time.'
But flames were erupting from my body now, spewing mana in every direction.
'What kind of freak is this?' he seemed to think, staring at me like the world had turned against him.
He wasn't the only one confused.
"…Hah."
I stared down at myself, my entire body wrapped in roaring flame.
'What is this…?'
There was no pain. My clothes weren't burning. My skin wasn't seared. I should've been ash.
'Is this… the Primordial Flame?'
After so many failed attempts… why now? Why was it suddenly embracing me? Burning so fiercely?
'No. That's not the issue right now.'
I pushed the questions aside and turned toward Iris.
"D-Dale!" Her eyes widened when she saw me like this.
I walked straight over and gave her a light smack on the head.
"Eek!" She flinched and covered the spot with both hands, tears forming in her eyes. "W-What was that for?!"
"I told you earlier to stay put, didn't I?"
"But—!"
"No buts."
I sighed and placed myself between her and Astaroth.
"Don't get involved this time. Stay here."
"…Okay," she muttered, looking sulky, but nodding.
I turned back toward Astaroth.
Thud.His severed left arm rolled to my foot.
Clutched in his dead hand… was a twisted tool—bent like a spoon.
'The tool he was going to use… to gouge out Iris's eyes.'
My burning mind instantly went cold.
'If it weren't for the Primordial Flame… Iris would've…'
The fire responded to my thoughts, flaring in my chest and spreading deeper—consuming me whole.
It wasn't just fire anymore. It was a demon. A colossal, wrathful flame demon preparing to devour the world.
"Astaroth."
I met his wary gaze and spoke clearly.
"Earlier, you said we should see who's more loved by the gods, right?"
The records said the Primordial Flame was forged by the Demon God. Still a god, wasn't he? Same as the other seven.
"Well then. Don't just stand there."
I raised my sword.
"Let's finish this."
Boom!
I stomped the ground. Mana surged from the stigma etched in my body, flooding through my veins like a tidal wave. It felt like I might explode.
For someone like me—someone who'd always suffered from a crippled mana core, in both my past and present life—it was a sensation beyond belief.
'I don't know why the Primordial Flame finally responded…'
But I had a guess.
They said the Primordial Flame generates mana by burning the Tree of Creation.
So…
'What exactly is it burning right now?'
I looked at the flames covering my body and let out a bitter laugh.
"I never thought I'd end up as firewood."
There were no swirling gray ashes around me this time. No sign of the Blessing of Revival. Which meant only one thing:
'It's burning me. My life force.'
The Primordial Flame was consuming me to produce mana.
In theory… as long as I kept burning, I could generate infinite mana.
"…Hah."
A shiver ran down my spine. I felt light. As if every shackle that had ever held me back had fallen away.
And somehow—I just knew.
The techniques I'd only ever been able to imitate before…The forms I had practiced endlessly, over and over in the white snowfields…
'Now…'
I could unleash them.
"I'm coming."
Rumble!I stepped lightly—and the earth shook like an earthquake.
In an instant, I was in front of him.
His eyes widened. My fist was already flying toward his face.
It was a technique from Berald's Martial Arts—Mountain Breaking.
Boom!A deafening roar and a burst of wind swept the field.
"You… madman!" Astaroth cursed, desperately invoking the Blessing of Distortion again.
The distorted space flared—but even that couldn't hold me back for long.