Chapter 21 : The Will of a Man Who Burns

At the center of the continent, atop Sky Mountain, the Castle of the Ruler stood above the clouds in its usual silence.

Inside the vast reception hall, Rowan sat comfortably upon his throne, one arm resting against its side as he watched the scene unfolding on a large blue screen before him. The screen displayed the battlefield around Crimson Fortress in perfect clarity, allowing him to observe every movement despite the enormous distance separating the castle from the battlefield.

Beside him stood Liz, as composed as ever. Her long white hair flowed down her back like a silver curtain, reaching all the way to the floor. Her pale skin contrasted sharply with the classic black-and-white maid uniform she wore, while the two black horns rising from her head gave her otherwise immaculate appearance a distinctly inhuman quality. Her clear blue eyes remained fixed on the enormous blue screen floating before them.

On that screen, the battle at the outskirts of Crimson Fortress continued.

the figure of Alexander Marilz was engulfed in an enormous wall of flame. His body had already been pushed far beyond its normal limits, and yet he continued to stand in front of the Immortal Blood, refusing to retreat even though the difference between them was becoming increasingly obvious.

Rowan rested his cheek against one hand as he watched Alexander Mariles struggle against the Immortal Blood.

For a while, he said nothing.

Then he glanced toward Liz.

"What do you think? Do you believe he can hold out?"

Liz did not answer immediately.

Her gaze followed Alexander's movements, then shifted toward the Immortal Blood. She observed the difference between their states carefully, taking into account everything that had happened since the beginning of the battle rather than judging the situation from the current exchange alone.

"His decision to abandon his physical body and transform his existence into flames in order to avoid the Blood Control was intelligent," she said at last. "Had he remained in his original body, the Immortal Blood would have continued manipulating the blood that had entered him. By changing his form, he removed the creature's most troublesome method of controlling him. The increase in strength he obtained afterward is also considerable, especially after consuming so many enhancement elixirs and forcibly attempting a breakthrough."

Liz's eyes remained fixed on the screen.

"However, none of that changes the fundamental difference between them. He is still facing an Origin creature. Even injured, even after losing a portion of its strength, and even though the form standing before him is much smaller than its original body, an Origin creature remains an Origin creature. Holding out against something like that for ten seconds would already be difficult."

She paused briefly before adding, "Thirty seconds is another matter entirely."

Rowan's golden eyes narrowed slightly.

"So?"

Liz finally looked toward him.

"No."

A faint smile appeared on Rowan's face.

He turned his gaze back toward the screen.

"Mariles, huh..."

He leaned farther back against his throne.

"Liz, it seems you've stood too high for too long. Perhaps that has made you incapable of seeing what exists below."

Liz's brows moved almost imperceptibly.

"My lord, what do you mean?"

Rowan's smile deepened.

"Let's watch."

His golden eyes returned to the battlefield.

"Let's see just how far it can reach..."

He paused.

"...the will of a man who burns."

Alexander seized the Immortal Blood by the arm.

The creature's hand was still buried deep within his chest, and the pain spreading through his body was enough to make even his burning form tremble. Yet Alexander did not release it. On the contrary, he tightened his grip and used what remained of his strength to drag the creature closer, refusing to give it the slightest chance to retreat.

Then he pulled it into an embrace.

For an instant, the Immortal Blood seemed unable to understand what Alexander was doing. Its crimson body remained motionless, as though the action itself had fallen outside the range of possibilities it had considered. Why would a wounded opponent willingly pull an enemy closer when that enemy's hand had already pierced his chest?

The answer came a moment later.

The flames surrounding Alexander suddenly erupted.

What had previously been an enormous wall of fire surrounding him now surged inward and swallowed the Immortal Blood as well. The flames rushed around both figures with such violence that the air itself seemed to explode.

FWOOSH!

The inferno expanded outward in an instant, forming a gigantic sphere of fire around them. Its surface boiled and twisted continuously, while the temperature inside rose to an almost unbearable level. The air trembled violently, and the rocks scattered across the battlefield began changing beneath the heat. Their surfaces turned red, then orange, before softening and flowing like liquid.

The ground did not escape either.

The earth beneath their feet gradually turned crimson as the overwhelming heat penetrated deeper into it. Stones cracked apart and melted, while the soil hardened into glowing masses before beginning to liquefy. Even the battlefield that had already been devastated by their previous exchange was now being transformed into a sea of molten earth beneath Alexander's flames.

The Immortal Blood finally reacted.

"GYAAAAAA!"

Its scream tore through the burning sphere.

With a violent movement, it ripped its arm free from Alexander's chest and forced itself backward. The creature broke through the surrounding wall of flame, its crimson body emerging from the inferno before it rapidly retreated through the air.

It moved dozens of meters before finally coming to a stop.

Alexander's eyes followed it through the flames.

four.

The number appeared in his mind almost immediately.

four seconds had passed.

The Immortal Blood narrowed one eye as it stared back at him, its expression difficult to read through its crimson features. But Alexander noticed something that made his exhaustion momentarily disappear beneath a surge of satisfaction.

It had retreated.

Not because it had been forced hundreds of meters away by some overwhelming attack.

Not because it had been completely defeated.

But because it had chosen to retreat from the flames.

Alexander slowly smiled.

"Hahaha..."

His laughter emerged from within the blazing sphere.

The flames shifted, and a humanoid figure gradually appeared behind them. Alexander stepped out of the inferno, his entire body still formed from burning energy, the enormous wall of flame rising behind him like a pillar that connected the earth to the sky.

"A retreat?"

He looked directly at the Immortal Blood.

"You really did retreat."

There was no fear in his voice.

Instead, there was satisfaction.

Alexander knew perfectly well how ridiculous the situation was. He was fighting an Origin creature that had already demonstrated enough power to nearly kill him with a single attack, and his own body was being sustained by the very flames he was consuming with every technique. Yet despite all of that, he had managed to force the creature backward.

It might have been only for a moment.

The creature might have been injured already.

And Alexander had paid an enormous price just to achieve it.

But that did not matter.

For Alexander Marilz, that single retreat was proof that his attacks could still affect this monster.

He stepped forward through the flames, his burning eyes fixed on the crimson figure.

"An Origin creature..."

His voice was quiet, but his determination had become sharper than before.

"So you're an Origin creature."

He raised one hand.

"Then let's see which one of us can endure longer."

The enormous wall of flame behind him suddenly moved.

It no longer behaved like ordinary fire. It responded to Alexander's will as naturally as his own limbs responded to his thoughts. Dozens of enormous fireballs separated themselves from the blazing wall and rose into the sky, each one carrying a terrifying amount of heat.

They began circling one another.

At first, their movements were slow and measured, but their speed gradually increased as their trajectories tightened around a single point. The air surrounding them distorted beneath the rising temperature, and waves of heat rolled across the battlefield.

Then the fireballs collided.

A tremendous explosion erupted in the sky.

Yet the flames did not scatter.

Instead, they compressed toward the center of the explosion, merging together into a single enormous and radiant shape. What had begun as dozens of individual fireballs transformed into something resembling a miniature sun born directly above the battlefield.

Its brilliance illuminated everything beneath it.

The Immortal Blood raised its head and looked toward the enormous flaming body hanging above.

The shape had no clear boundary. Its radiance spread across the sky, while countless waves of heat descended from it and caused the already damaged earth below to glow beneath the pressure.

Alexander raised his burning hand.

"King Magic—Falling Sun."

The enormous flaming body descended.

It did not simply fall from the sky.

It plummeted.

The entire sky seemed to descend with it.

The air screamed beneath the pressure generated by its movement, and the ground below began melting before the attack had even reached it. The Immortal Blood raised one hand and attempted to stop the enormous mass of flame with a single arm.

For a moment, the two forces collided.

The Immortal Blood remained standing.

Its arm supported the descending sun, and the enormous pressure forced the ground beneath its feet to crack apart. The creature resisted with its full strength, refusing to be driven backward.

Then its arm began to bend.

The descending mass continued pressing down.

The Immortal Blood's feet sank deeper into the earth as the force of the attack pushed its entire body toward the ground. It resisted, but the difference in pressure was gradually becoming impossible to ignore.

The Immortal Blood was driven downward.

BOOM!

Its body crashed into the earth.

A gigantic crater erupted around it, throwing rocks and molten soil into the air as the impact spread outward. The earth shook violently, and a wave of heat swept across the battlefield.

But Alexander gave it no time to recover.

Another portion of the flames surrounding him separated from the enormous wall behind him and rose into the sky.

Once again, dozens of blazing spheres formed above the battlefield. They began revolving around one another, accelerating as their trajectories tightened before colliding at the center.

Another sun appeared.

Alexander raised his hand.

The second sun descended.

The Immortal Blood had barely managed to lift its head before the enormous mass of flame crashed into the crater.

BOOM!

Another explosion shook the battlefield.

The ground trembled beneath the impact, and the force of the attack spread outward in enormous waves, tearing apart the earth and filling the sky with smoke, fire, and debris. The crater became deeper, while molten rock and burning fragments were thrown into the air.

Alexander continued.

He did not stop.

A third group of flames detached itself from his burning body and rose into the sky.

The same process repeated.

The fireballs gathered.

They revolved around one another.

They collided.

A third sun was born.

Then it fell.

The third impact shook the ground again.

Alexander's breathing had become heavier now, though there was no ordinary breath coming from his burning body. The exhaustion was something deeper, something tied directly to the force maintaining his existence. Yet his movements did not slow.

A fourth sun formed.

Then a fifth.

Each time, another enormous mass of flame descended from the sky with devastating force. Each impact buried the battlefield beneath another wave of fire and earth, until the area was completely consumed by smoke, burning debris, and molten ground.

The sky disappeared behind the thick clouds of destruction.

The ground was no longer recognizable.

Everything within the battlefield had become a chaotic mixture of molten earth, burning stone, crimson flames, and countless fragments of shattered rock.

Alexander remained suspended above it all.

But there was an important difference between him and an ordinary mage.

His body was no longer truly a body.

It was a manifestation of his will and his flame.

The enormous wall of fire surrounding him was not an inexhaustible source of energy from which he could draw without consequence. Every portion of it represented something of himself. Every time he separated a mass of flame and transformed it into another attack, he was consuming a part of the strength sustaining his existence.

Every movement cost him.

Every attack burned away another portion of what remained.

And Alexander knew it.

He continued anyway.

Then, without warning, something moved beneath the smoke.

A massive red beam erupted from the depths of the crater.

It tore through the battlefield at terrifying speed, cutting through the smoke as though the thick air were nothing more than an illusion.

Alexander's eyes widened.

The beam struck one of the descending suns.

The enormous flaming sphere split in half.

The red beam continued forward without slowing.

Alexander tried to move.

He was too late.

The attack passed directly through him.

His body split from the middle, and the flames that composed his physical form scattered violently through the air. For an instant, there was no longer anything resembling the shape of a human being.

Then—

"AAAAAAAGH!"

Alexander's scream echoed across the battlefield.

His flames began gathering again.

Slowly, they returned to their original positions, condensing around one another and rebuilding his form piece by piece. Fire gathered around his limbs, his torso, and his head until the shape of Alexander Mariles was restored.

But something had changed.

The attack had not merely damaged his body.

It had struck his will.

The red beam had pierced through the very foundation supporting his existence as a being of flame. For a brief moment, Alexander had felt as though his consciousness itself were being erased, as though the force maintaining his form had nearly been extinguished by that single attack.

He understood the danger now.

The enormous mass of flame surrounding him was not simply fire.

It was his will.

Every flame was connected to him.

Every burning fragment represented a portion of Alexander Mariles himself, and the more of that flame he consumed, the more of his own existence he was sacrificing to maintain his strength.

The realization was not new.

But facing an Origin creature made it impossible to ignore.

Every time the Immortal Blood destroyed one of his flames, Alexander lost part of himself.

The more his flames were depleted, the weaker his will became.

And the weaker his will became, the closer he moved toward death.

There was no endless reservoir hidden within him that could sustain this battle forever. He was not drawing strength from some limitless source. There would be no convenient reserve waiting for him once everything else was exhausted.

He was burning himself.

Literally.

Every attack shortened the distance between him and death.

Yet Alexander raised his head again.

Through the thick smoke, a crimson figure slowly emerged from the depths of the enormous crater.

"GYAAAA..."

The Immortal Blood laughed.

Its crimson body was completely intact.

There was not even a trace of the wounds that had covered it moments earlier. The repeated Falling Suns had buried it beneath enormous amounts of earth and flame, yet the creature now stood within the crater as though the attacks had never happened.

Alexander stared at it.

His expression became heavier.

The difference between them was becoming impossible to ignore.

The Immortal Blood had endured attack after attack capable of destroying enormous portions of the battlefield, while Alexander's own existence was being consumed with every technique he used.

The creature looked at him.

And for the first time, the Immortal Blood experienced something that had been absent from most of its existence.

Pleasure.

It had finally encountered someone weak enough for it to dominate.

The sensation was intoxicating.

For so long, the Immortal Blood had existed in darkness.

Most of its existence had been spent there. Its consciousness had been born in that darkness, small and alone, knowing nothing about the world beyond its confinement. It had not known freedom. It had not known the sky, the vastness of the outside world, or the countless creatures that existed beyond the place where it had been imprisoned.

It had known only darkness.

Hunger.

And pain.

When it finally emerged into the outside world, it nearly died.

The powers surrounding it had been far beyond what it could resist. Other creatures were stronger than it, and any one of them could have turned it into prey. It had entered the world carrying the weakness of something that had spent almost its entire existence trapped in darkness, and instead of finding freedom, it had found itself surrounded by things capable of destroying it.

For the first time, it had felt fear.

It wanted to heal.

It was hungry.

No—it was starving.

It wanted to consume anything capable of giving it strength, anything that could help it survive and become stronger.

Then a strange creature had appeared before it.

A creature with two arms and two legs.

A being unlike itself.

That creature had stopped it.

It had injured it.

And for the first time, the Immortal Blood had felt anger toward another living being.

But now, the situation had changed.

Now it was the one inflicting pain.

It was the stronger one.

It was the one standing above another creature and watching that creature struggle desperately just to remain alive.

For something that had spent most of its existence being weak, hunted, and imprisoned, the sensation was intoxicating.

It was power.

It was pride.

It was arrogance.

It was ecstasy.

Those emotions flooded through its crimson consciousness, overwhelming it with the simple pleasure of knowing that, this time, it was the one who stood above another.

The Immortal Blood looked at Alexander's burning figure and laughed again.

"GYAAAAAA!"

Alexander stared back.

His flames had become noticeably weaker.

He could feel it.

The change was not something he needed to see with his eyes. It existed within him, in the instability of his burning form and the growing exhaustion of his will. His body had been reconstructed, but the force supporting that body was no longer what it had been at the beginning of the battle.

He looked at the Immortal Blood's completely intact body.

Then he finally understood the distance between them.

"So this..."

His voice was low.

"This is the level of an Origin creature."

Even wounded.

Even smaller than its original form.

Even after everything it had already endured.

It was still this powerful.

Alexander slowly clenched his burning fist.

For all the battles he had fought, for all the stages he had climbed, for all the years he had spent surpassing those around him, there was still a realm where the difference between himself and his opponent could not be ignored.

And yet he did not lower his head.

Instead, another thought surfaced from somewhere deep within his consciousness.

Grandfather...

Alexander remembered the old man.

Were you right?

Two hundred and fifty years earlier, a young man with red hair stood beside an old man with long white hair and a long beard.

The old man was the former Flame King.

He had once stood at the highest point of the Marilz Clan, one of the three greatest powers in the western regions. The Marilz were the Lords of Flame, a family whose name carried weight throughout the West and whose inheritance had been passed down through generations.

The young man standing beside him was Alexander Marilz.

At that time, he was still young, but his name had already begun to spread through the clan.

Alexander had been born into greatness.

From the moment he entered the world, he had been surrounded by praise. His talent was extraordinary, his potential was recognized early, and the people around him believed he was destined to accomplish something that would make his name remembered.

He was talented.

He was special.

He was the hero in the story his clan had already begun imagining for him.

At the age of five, Alexander had sworn allegiance to the Eternal Spirit and entered the path of cultivation. He began walking a road that countless people would never even have the opportunity to see, and from the beginning, his progress was astonishing.

At fifteen, he reached the Second Step.

At twenty-four, he reached the Third.

At forty-one, he reached the Fourth Step, extending his lifespan and gaining the ability to live for two hundred years.

But Alexander did not stop there.

Years passed, and with them came battles.

He fought again and again, facing opponents, surviving dangerous encounters, and continuing forward even when the path became increasingly difficult. Every battle gave him experience, and every victory pushed him farther away from the people who had once stood beside him.

By the age of eighty, Alexander had reached the Fifth Step.

Then, at ninety-six, he faced the high tribulation of ascension.

It was the greatest obstacle he had ever encountered.

The tribulation was not something that could be overcome through talent alone. It tested everything he had accumulated throughout his life, and the slightest failure could have ended his path completely.

But Alexander endured.

He obtained enlightenment.

He broke through.

And with that breakthrough, he became a true hero of his generation, extending his lifespan to five hundred years.

His road had been difficult.

It had not been a smooth journey from one breakthrough to the next. There had been injuries, setbacks, dangerous battles, and moments when the distance between life and death had been little more than a single mistake.

But he had faced them all.

He had surpassed his peers.

He had continued walking when others stopped.

And in the end, he had succeeded.

Now, standing beside his great-grandfather, Alexander was being led toward one of the deepest secrets of the Mariles Clan.

The old man led him underground, toward a place that almost no member of the clan had ever been permitted to enter. They descended through a long passage beneath the earth, leaving the surface farther and farther behind with every step.

The deeper they went, the quieter everything became.

Eventually, the passage ended before a massive stone door.

Alexander stopped.

His eyes moved across the ancient surface of the door, but he did not ask what waited beyond it. He had followed his great-grandfather this far, and whatever lay on the other side was clearly important enough that even the former Flame King had personally brought him here.

The old man raised his hand.

The stone door opened.

Beyond it was a vast, empty chamber.

There were no piles of treasure waiting for them.

No weapons.

No cultivation resources.

No ancient artifacts arranged along the walls.

The chamber was almost completely empty.

Only a single stone tablet stood in its center.

Alexander slowly approached it.

The room was silent as he stopped before the tablet and lowered his gaze toward the words carved into its surface.

They were ancient.

Yet the meaning was clear.

Alexander read them silently.

As flames arise, the heavens reply, And thunder illuminates the boundless sky.