“…Ilea’s spit!” Alnea cursed, but did not stop his steps, or his sword, swinging towards the man’s neck. Yet, the Fire Servant did not even flinch. Or tried to defend himself. He just stood in place, smirking at the black robed boy. Only when the sword, glowing in the shade of Slaughter, reached his neck, did he begin to act, conjuring a thin strip of flame on his neck, just where the sword’s blade touched him, stopping its advance.

  “It is not good manners to curse in the name of Gods, Tresting,” the Fire Servant said, pressing the sword’s edge with his finger, covered in a thin layer of his flames, and pushed it away from himself. “Especially if the said ‘God’ is the Goddess of Luck and Chances. Though, I guess it is not exactly your fault. Your father never did get the chance to teach you about the common sense of the world of Wanderers, after all.”

  “…It is alright,” Alnea said, retreating from the Fire Servant, before circling around him, and attacking him from another direction, this time, aiming for his chest, only for his sword to be blocked in the exact same way, forcing him to retreat once again. “I had other people teach me about those things.”

  “The Serpia clan?” the Fire Servant said, as the black robed boy circled around him, testing his defences every other second. “It is no wonder why you are so rude, always thinking about talking with your sword. Had you learned from my clan, then you would have been much more sophisticated.”

  “And would have become a scum,” Alnea said, as he brought his left hand, gripping his sword, closer to his right hand, shifting into a more aggressive stance, before charging at the Fire Servant once again. “Betraying your companions for just a meagre boost in your Spirit Power…”

  “Just a meagre boost?” the Fire Servant said, staring at Alnea with a weird expression on his face, before breaking out into a hysterical laugh. All while blocking the sword aiming for his life with just a thin strip of fire each time, showing impeccable control over his flames. The kind that he should not have gained from just raising his Spirit Power. “Have you not sensed it yet?”

  “…The only thing I sensed is your death,” Alnea said, gritting his teeth, as he tried to search for the Fire Servant’s weakness. There were none. At least, he could not find any ways to deal with the flames that kept blocking his attacks. Unless…

  “Are you trying to deceive yourself?” the Fire Servant said, restraining his laughter for a smirk. “Give up, Tresting. Your weak sword cannot hurt me.”

  “…Maybe,” Alnea said, as he paused his steps for a moment, and took a deep breath, changing the Aspects flowing along his blade, all while keeping the glow of his sword constant. “But I will never give up.”

  “Your efforts are futile. No matter—

  The Fire Servant paused, and glanced down at his chest, staring at the thin red line left on his robe in silence.

  “Do you still think that my efforts are futile?”

  “…I stand corrected,” the Fire Servant said, raising his head back up with a solemn expression on his face. “How did you do it?”

  “I just learned a trick from your own book,” Alnea said, spreading his lips into a grin. “Did you enjoy the surprise?”

  “…Every time I think that I have you figured out, you come up with new ways to surprise me,” the Fire Servant said. “But that ends now. I will not repeat the same mistake again.”

  “Do you think I need to rely on your mistakes to defeat you?” Alnea said, before rushing towards the F—

  Alnea dug his heel into the ground, and ducked down, just in time to avoid the Fire Whip cracking through the air. But that was not enough to avoid the arrows following behind the whip. Or the chains that came rushing at him. Even the snakes, that swam the slowest of all the attacks coming for him, were too close for him to dodge. So, he just stopped moving and decided to face the attacks head on. Or rather, let his robe take them on. It w—

  Alnea frowned, as he felt a strange throb in his Spirit. The attacks were already upon him though, so he ignored the strange sensation for the moment, and focussed on the arrows. Ten of them. All made of Fire. Just like the attacks following behind. But they were neither as thick as the chains, nor as flexible as the snakes. The only reason he could not avoid them was because they came from all around him, and all at once, sealing all his escape routes, except for one.

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  Yet, if he dared to jump, then he was sure that he would be faced with an even more desperate situation. If they could get past the defences of his robe, that is. Unlike the Mysteries of Decay, Fire was not—

  Alnea urged his Aspects to burst out, releasing a golden light from his body, dispersing the arrow that had just pierced his shoulder, not giving it any chance to spread its fire in his veins. Or burn his flesh. But that was just the first arrow. There were nine others like it. And he did not dare to guarantee that they would not be able to pierce him like the first arrow. Why did his—

  Alnea forcefully subdued the doubts in his Heart, and used the fraction of a moment bought by the movements due the strange throb he felt earlier to let his Aspects surge out of his body with an even greater intensity, blasting all the arrows back to the Origin Sea before they could touch him. Only then, did he dare to relax. But not for long.

  Just a moment later, the chains following behind the arrows were already upon him. And unlike the arrows, they were far too thick and long to be destroyed with just a burst of his Aspects. Fortunately, this time, he was a little better prepared than before. At least he had enough time to bless himself with Oren and swing his sword. But to defend from all directions at once…

  Surging with golden and black lights, Alnea pivoted on his feet to create a ‘Golden Wheel of Death’, using a Martial Style meant to kill his enemies to Protect himself. And in doing so, understood the Golden Wheel’s essence. There were still a few more waves of attack coming at him though, so he did not dare to slacken, and Cleared his Heart, using his new understanding to defend himself.

  First came the snakes, swimming through the air, constantly changing their paths, trying to wriggle their way to his neck, only to be slashed through by the ‘Golden Wheel’. A giant, golden wheel, centred around him, that cut apart anything that dared to touch its blade, sending them to their ‘Death’. Even the flames. Or the bird that followed behind the snakes.

  Regardless of what came at him, nothing could get past the ‘Golden Wheel’, making his enemies understand the futility of their efforts. Or maybe they just got tired. In any case, after he dealt with a few waves of attacks, Alnea noticed that there were no flames within ten metres of where he was standing, giving him the chance he was waiting for.

  Stomping his feet on the ground, he quickly distanced himself from the Fire Servant, before rushing out of the encirclement of the other Wanderers. Then, and only then, did he spare his attention to observe his attackers. The ten Wanderers, who, just a while ago, had been kneeling on the ground, struggling to even speak. But that was when they were still human. When they were not an abomination of Fire.

  Wrapped completely in blood red flames, with barely any resemblance to their past self, except for their shape, the ten abominations were standing in a circle with another abomination at the centre. And though they did not have any eyes, or a face, Alnea was sure that they were all looking at him. He did not know how, but he could tell. Just as he could tell that his master’s robe was not going to save him anymore.

  “I told you that I will not make the same mistake,” the Fire Servant said, raising the edge of his lips in a smirk. “You will never get close me again, Tresting.”

  “…Are you afraid of me?”

  “I should be the one asking that question from you,” the Fire Servant said, widening his smirk into a grin. “How does it feel to see your greatest source of reliance fail right before your eyes?”

  “…You are talking as if you were the one who ruined the Glyphs on my robe,” Alnea said, glancing down on his robe, taking a moment to brush his fingers on its thorns, before turning back to the Fire Servant. “That stupid Fire Spirit. I thought that he was pitiful, so I planned to let him go. But he dared to ruin my robe… I am going to ask my master to teach that bastard a lesson the next time we meet.”

  “…I admire your ignorance, Tresting. Do dare say that name… Only someone as ignorant as you could do it.”

  “Why? Are you jealous that the Fire Spirit did not let you say that name?”

  “Jealous? Perhaps. Though I would not dare to say that name even if he gave me the permission. Especially not in this world. In this… prison.”

  “…Coward.”

  “This is just common sense, Tresting. What exactly did the Serpia clan teach you? Your father would be very sad to see you being so ignorant, you know?”

  “…On the contrary, I think he would be very proud of me.”

  “For being ignorant?”

  “For etching the things that he taught me into my Spirit and Heart.”

  “…You had not even laid your Roots when your father was alive. What could he have taught you other than grovelling at the feet of my clan?”

  “…He taught me the most important lesson in my life.”

  “How to beg for alms?”

  “…He taught me that in the Origin Sea, everything comes at a price,” Alnea said, urging his Aspects, and blessing himself with Oren once again. “What is the price that you have paid?”