“Price?” the Fire Servant said, pausing for a moment, as if thinking about the answer, before slowly devolving into a laughter. Though it sounded more like intermittent chuckles. “If we are talking about prices, then I would also like to know. What is the price you paid to get your talent? What is the price of your Roots?”

  “…Everything,” Alnea said, rushing towards the abominations of Fire with all his might, not caring about the loose mud he sent flying into the air. The forest was destroyed anyway, with the creature sealed within its lands long having escaped his prison. There was no need to waste his Spirit Power and attention on worrying about the forest’s safety.

  Besides, he could not have any reservations when dealing with the abominations he was facing. Such pure amalgamation of Fire… If not for the Fire enshrouding their bodies being impure, carrying the breath of other kinds of Mysteries, he would have wondered if the Fire Spirit left a way for the Fire Servant to create more creatures like himself. Servants of Fire. Though from the way he was controlling the flames to protect himself, and manipulating the abominations around him, he looked more like its master.

  “…That is not a nice joke, Tresting,” the Fire Servant said, standing still, while the abominations around him launched another wave of attacks the moment Alnea stepped within five metres of them. But this time, they could not seal his movements. And he was not stupid enough to take the attacks head on when he could avoid them.

  “If you are trying to make up lies, then at least try to make them more believable.”

  “…I just said the truth,” Alnea said, observing the abominations once again. At first glance, they looked like the Fire Servant in the form of flames, but they were nothing like him. The Mysteries of Fire around their bodies was not as rich. Their movements were too stiff. And they seemed to be afraid of his sword.

  “It is up to you to believe it or not,” Alnea said, as he rushed towards the abominations once again. And as he expected, he saw them flinch. It was a very subtle flinch, impossible to notice from a distance, but it was there, nonetheless. And it was not just one or two of them who were afraid. He tested it with all of them, and the results were the same. They were all afraid of his sword.

  “You sure are persistent,” the Fire Servant said, as he noticed the black robed boy circling around his puppets, trying to find flaws in their formation, only to be pushed back again, and again. “Give up, Tresting. Like I said, you will never be able to get close to me again.”

  “…We will se about that,” Alnea said, glancing at the abominations. He could understand their fear if he had been covering his sword with his Concepts, but he was not. Just his Aspects were enough to scare them. Maybe, he did not even need his Aspects. Just his sword alone would be enough for them to become wary of him. In any case, he was sure that they had not turned completely into flames. They still had their bodies within that outer layer of flames. Kind of like Enthralled Wanderers. Except, they were not Enthralled. At least not by the Origin Sea.

  “You still have not answered my question yet, Whitebud,” Alnea said, thinking of the ways he could use to get past the abominations. Charging at them head on was not going to work. Even if they were afraid of his sword, their impeccable coordination did not let him take advantage of their fear. Or even slash his way through them. And that was one of the reasons why he was sure that they were not Enthralled by the Origin Sea.

  Even when controlled by some clever means, Wanderers Enthralled by the Origin Sea would lose all their reason, and act completely on their impulse and instincts, not form cliques. At the very least, they would not stand still, waiting for their enemies to move first before attacking them. And once they attacked, they certainly would not back down until they had their prey’s life. Or were distracted by other enemies.

  Regardless, they would never show fear to anything. The Origin Sea would heal all their wounds after all. And even if it could not, it would call them back into its embrace soon enough for them to not worry about some wounds. If they could even worry about anything, that is.

  Except for the last obsession in their Hearts, the Wanderers Enthralled by the Origin Sea were not known to show any kinds of emotions. Or preference. Their only mission was to spread chaos and mayhem, and destroy as much as they could in the little time they had. Making them stand in a circle to defend one person, that too, the one responsible for their transformation, was impossible.

  “What is the price that you have paid?” Alnea said, turning his eyes from the abominations forming the circle, to the one standing at its centre. The one connecting all the abominations together. The key to the Fire Servant’s control over the abominations. And perhaps, the key to his way through them. Maybe even his key to taking down the Fire Servant.

  “What is the price you are paying to control these abominations?”

  If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  “…Since you are so interested, why not take a guess?” the Fire Servant said, commanding his puppets to launch their attacks, conjuring a sea of flames to drown the black robed boy. “What do you think is the price I am paying, Tresting?”

  “…Everything,” Alnea said, covering himself in an armour of golden and silverish blue lights, ignoring the fire that was raging around him. “Just like me, you are also paying everything.”

  “Again, with your—

  “Betraying your companions, killing most of your followers, and turning the rest into abominations of Fire… What do you think will happen once you go back to the Lost City, Whitebud?”

  “…I will be welcomed with all honours for completing the mission that those incompetent fools have not been able to complete for months.”

  “Are you trying to deceive yourself? Or do you really believe those words?”

  “…Some sacrifices are necessary.”

  “Maybe,” Alnea said, raising the edge of his lips in a smirk, as he stepped closer to the abominations. “But are you sure that you are not one of those necessary sacrifices?”

  “They would never—

  “You cannot escape your responsibilities, Whitebud,” Alnea said, lowering into a more flexible stance, focussing on speed more than strength, before rushing to the abominations, only to be repelled once again.

  “Nearly two hundred Wanderers are dead under your command. Even if you complete your mission, you will still have to give an explanation. And so will your clan.”

  “…I never knew you were so good with words, Tresting,” the Fire Servant said after a few moments of silence. “You almost made me doubt myself.”

  “Because you know that I am telling the truth,” Alnea said, testing the abominations once again. And once again, he was met with disappointment. “After all, you know your clan better than me.”

  “…You are right,” the Fire Servant said, before breaking out into a grin. “But you are forgetting something.”

  Blood red flames surged from within the Fire Servant’s chest, transforming him into his flame form, increasing the number of abominations of flame from twelve to thirteen.

  “I am different from what I used to be.”

  “…I think that is an even greater reason of concern for you,” Alnea said, settling in on a plan after some thought. “What if your clan decides to dissect you to study your body?”

  “…Do you think this is the barbaric Age of Gods?” the Fire Servant said, shaking his head, while still maintaining his fire form. “As long as I show enough value, they would not hesitate to protect me and even shower me with resources. That is the essence of the Age of Wanderers. Interests.”

  “…Perhaps,” Alnea said, quietly preparing his Arcana. “But are you willing to take the risk?”

  “…You just gave me another reason to capture you, Tresting,” the Fire Servant said, as the shade of his flames changed from blood red to a more bright, orangish red. “As long as I have your life in my control, my clan would do everything in its power to protect me.”

  “Am I so valuable?”

  “…What do you think?”

  “…I think I will pass.”

  “That is not up to you anymore.”

  “Are you sure?” Alnea said, before releasing silvery white and inky black blobs from his body, directing them towards the abominations and the Fire Servant. And as he had expected, instead of dodging the blobs, they tried to blast them away with their flames, only to end up driving the blobs to clash with each other, releasing the breath of the Mysteries of Light and Darkness.

  “Is this what you are relying on?” the Fire Servant said, sneering at the black robed boy. “I thought you were going to give me another surprise.”

  “…Since you asked me so nicely, how could I refuse your request?”

  “…I think it would be better if you think about yourself,” the Fire Servant said. “And how you are going to explain the losses you caused us when I take you back to my clan.”

  “Is that not something you should be worrying about?” Alnea said, putting his sword back into its sheath. “Besides, I do not think I will go to your clan anytime soon. At least not with you.”

  “…Do you still not understand your situation?”

  “I should be the one asking you that question,” Alnea said, glancing at the abominations. “Are you ready to pay the price of your actions, Whitebud?”

  “The only price—

  The abominations all raised their heads in unison, even the one at the centre of the circle, and let out a shriek, releasing a pillar of flames into the skies. Even the one next to the Fire Servant. Rather, his was the thickest of all the pillars, large enough to cover even the Fire Servant within its range. And it burnt with the most heterogenous flame of all. One tainted by the breath of nearly a hundred other Mysteries, giving its original blood red shade hints of yellow, green, blue, purple, and black.

  It was only natural then, for him to be pushed away by the kaleidoscopic flames. By the flames of his own puppet. His puppet! Though the strange appearance of the flames was also a concerning matter, he did not care about it. Neither did he care about the kaleidoscopic flames tainting the flames on his arms and chest. Or the mocking smile on the black robed boy’s face. The most important thing at the moment was to regain control over his puppets. So, after shooting a glare at the black robed boy, he hurriedly turned back to his puppets, and tried to reign in their flames, only to be blasted away once again.

  “Did you like the surprise?”

  “…You think this is funny, Tresting?” the Fire Servant said, glaring at the black robed boy, as he pushed himself back to his feet. “Do you even understand what you have done?”

  “Of course,” Alnea said, widening his grin. “I have just made you pay the price for your actions.”