Miracle. The Whitebud man had been yelling that word for quite some time, as if trying to force it into everyone’s mind. But ‘Miracle’ itself was not a new concept to anyone. Even Rootless people would know a thing or two about it, let alone those from Orthodoxies, who had read the records from the Age of Gods in their clans. They did not need anyone’s help to remind them of Miracles.

  Rather, it was exactly because they knew what a true ‘Miracle’ represented, and what kind of terrifying changes it could bring, that they were not too impressed with his hysterics. Especially since the way he kept emphasising ‘Miracle’ every time he spoke, be it to the black robed boy, or to his own companions, made it seem as if he was trying to make them believe in the ‘Miracle’ he had summoned.

  Unfortunately for the Whitebud man, none of the Wanderers in the forest were fooled by him. Not even when he turned the black robed boy into Flames. Though some of them did seem surprised for a while, the boy’s transformation was not enough to fool anyone. It was not the first time a human had been possessed by beings of other races, after all.

  Such cases were rare, especially considering how most of the other races had either withdrawn from the world, or had been annihilated altogether, but they were not unheard of. More importantly, the leaders of the Lotus clan’s alliance had already admitted that the black robed boy had been possessed by some ancient being. Him turning into a Flame was just a side effect from that possession, not a Miracle.

  There was just one thing that no one could understand. Why did the arrow hurtling towards the Whitebud man’s head, along with the sword of white light descending from the skies, stopped just inches away from him? Not scattered, not blocked, and not even absorbed. Those attacks just stopped in mid air—

  No, they did not even stop. Everyone could still see the head of the arrow spinning, albeit very slowly, slow enough to not be able to complete a spin in a whole minute. But it was still spinning, just as it was still moving, heading towards the Whitebud man’s head, along with the sword of light, pulsating with the Mysteries of Fate. Yet, no matter how it moved—

  If it moved. Some thought that the attacks had been frozen in space. Others thought that it was still moving, jut very slowly, while a few of them thought that it was frozen in time. Or at least, it was close to being frozen in time. Regardless, no one could understand what was happening. Not even the Whitebud man himself. But he did not need to understand. He just needed to believe and show his sincerity. That, he had already done. Next, it was the turn of the Miracle. And the Miracle did not disappoint him.

  Miracle of Fire, he called, and Miracle of Fire, it became, spreading from the Fire he had stretched his hand into, climbing up his arms, and to his chest, drilling into the crystal he had stabbed into his heart, making it light up once again. This time, in the shade of Fire. In the shade of the Miracle. All without making the Whitebud man feel even a hint of pain. On the contrary, the Fire seeping into his heart made him feel as if he was basking in Enn’s glory on summer’s eve, enjoying his blessings, bringing him an Eternal warmth.

  Unfortunately, it was not Eternity that he wished for. So, the warmth slowly slipped away from him, making way for the Blaze of the midsummer. But that was not what he wished for either. Such a common Flame could be achieved with just a little hard work. It was not worthy of a Miracle…

  “Still, the Blaze did have its merits. Its bright and majestic breath was enough to deter most, if not all his enemies. Was he sure that he did not wish to keep it?”

  But he had already decided on his wish…

  “So what? It was not as if he could not change his wish. He was very accommodating. Especially to those who were willing to help him.”

  No… The Blaze may be helpful, but it was not enough to help him achieve his dreams. Only if he could get his wish… Only if he could become—

  “He knew what he wished for. He was just making sure. And since he had confirmed it once again, it was time to fulfil his wish…”

  And so, the Fire, restrained within his crystal heart, spread once again, flowing into his veins, turning his blood into Flames. And that was just the beginning. From his blood to his hands and legs, and then to his chest, the Fire finally spread to his head, covering his entire body, but only from within him, where no one could see. From the perspective of other Wanderers, he did not have any changes. Unfortunately, he was not very good at hiding that secret.

  Though it did not look like he wanted to keep his transformation a secret in the first place. Even if the edges of his body curling up every so often, transforming into flames, could be considered as lack of familiarity with his new body on the Whitebud man’s part, the way he raised his right hand and transformed it into flames, looking at it with a fanatical fascination, was surely deliberate. And too conspicuous to be ignored.

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  But the Whitebud man did not care. Or maybe he did, and was just using the chance to show off his transformation. And since he was showing off, how could he stop at just transforming his hand? So, while everyone was still staring at his right hand with wide eyes, the Whitebud man raised his other hand, and transformed it into Flames, looking at it with just as much fascination as he was holding for his right hand.

  Yet, there was only so long he could look at his hands for. Once he got over his fascination for his arms, the Whitebud man shifted his attention to his legs. And this time, he did not discriminate between them, transforming them both into Flames at once. Maybe that was why he lost his fascination for his legs even faster, directing the Flames to climb up his legs, and transform his chest, before finally climbing up his face, transforming him completely into a Flame. Just like the Flame next to him.

  Except, unlike the Flame next to him, the Whitebud man did not have any ancient being possessing him. And he was not as small either. Standing—Hovering about a little less than two metres tall, he had barely seen any changes in his height. Neither did he experience any changes in his form. Other than transforming into Flames, of course. Even his robe turned into Flames. Or ashes. It was the same—

  The Whitebud man, having enjoyed his Flame form, transformed back into his human form, along with his robe, confusing quite a few Wanderers. Did even his robe gain the ability to transform into Flames? No, most probably, he just used his Flames to form a similar robe. That seemed a much more reasonable explanation. Regardless, after transforming back into his human form, the Whitebud man did not seem any different from other humans, except for the crystal shining in his chest.

  Ironically enough, the crystal was also the only part of his body that did not transform into Flames when he was in the Flame form, and hovered in his chest like a heart, making him seem a little more human. If he could even still be called as a human. The Whitebud man himself preferred to stay as a human. After all, the world of Wanderers was dominated by humans. But his current state…

  The invisible forces that had been slowing down the sword and arrow, keeping them in place, vanished as soon as the Whitebud man changed back to his human form, allowing them to proceed unimpeded. And since he had not moved from his initial position, when the attacks resumed, they were both just inches away from him, giving him no time to prepare his defences. Or even react.

  Before anyone could figure out what was happening, both the sword of white light, and the bluish green arrow had already pierced through the Whitebud man, leaving behind two gaping holes in his head. One from the side, and the other from the top. Wounds, that would have been fatal to any human. But the Whitebud man was no longer a human. At least not in essence. And everyone knew that fact.

  Yet, when the Wanderers around him saw no trails of blood leaking from the holes in his head, they still could not help feeling a little surprised. Even those from his own clan. And their surprise grew even more, when they saw the holes in his head being filled up by Flames, before transforming into the missing pieces, returning him back to his unscathed self. And though, for some, that surprise was grim, for most, it was a pleasant one.

  “…He did it!”

  “Cretes’ grace, he really did it!”

  “He claimed the Miracle!”

  “I knew he would do it.”

  “He is invincible!”

  “Invincible Mathias!”

  “Flame Mathias!”

  “Mathias of the Flame!”

  “Flame Human!”

  “Fire…”

  While the Wanderers of the Lotus clan were celebrating in joy, the rest of the Wanderers of their alliance were just as buoyant.

  “…Is that…”

  “…Immortality…”

  “…Cretes crown…”

  “Is this what a Miracle can do…”

  “Does that not mean…”

  “That’s right…”

  “We made the right bet.”

  “Soon, we will also be immortal!”

  “…Immortal?” the Whitebud ma—Wanderer mumbled. “Even Supreme Wanderers dare not call themselves immortal. Do you think that you are greater than Supreme Wanderers?”

  “…You know what we mean.”

  “Do I?” the Whitebud Wanderer said, raising the edges of his lips in a smirk. “How can a chosen one like me understand what mortals like you think?”

  “…Is it not just a Miracle? As long as we believe in it, we can also become just like you.”

  “Fools,” the Whitebud Wanderer said, glancing at the ignorant Wanderers in disdain. “Can a miracle that can be repeated still be considered a Miracle?”

  “…Are you trying to break your promise, Mathias?”

  “Of course, not,” the Whitebud Wanderer said, glancing at the brown robed man in the distance, struggling against the Weina girl. “The benefits I promised you will still be yours. Though we might have to make some changes to our agreement.”

  “…We can talk about those things later,” the pink robed Wanderer said, as he backed away from Yuri. “Let us take down these girls first.”

  “…Indeed,” the Whitebud Wanderer said, shifting his attention to the girls. “You three have run wild for long enough. It is time that bring this farce to an end.”