“…Indeed,” Yuri said, returning the Whitebud Wanderer’s glare with her own, still continuing to walk towards the Flame at her own pace, not bothering with the other Wanderers around her. “It is my fault that I let you drag this farce for so long. I should have just slaughtered your whole clan from the very beginning.”

  “…You talk big, little girl,” the Whitebud Wanderer said, raising his right hand, and turned his fingers into Flames, making them dance on his palms. “Do you still do not recognise the reality? I can just stand here, and let you attack me all you want, and you still would not be able to hurt me.”

  “Really?” Yuri said, conjuring a pitch black flame, about as big as her fist, above her right hand. “How about letting me take you up on that offer?”

  “…That Flame…”

  “You may be able to fool others, Whitebud, but you cannot fool me.”

  “Hey, do not include me with these idiots,” Vestia said, or rather, all five of Vestia’s figures in the fog said in unison, looking at the Wanderers around her in disdain. “Only a fool would believe such obvious lies.”

  “…What are you talking about?”

  “Mathias is invincible!”

  “That’s right. We saw it with our own eyes.”

  “Noting can hurt him.”

  “He is immortal!”

  “…Idiots,” Vestia said, clicking her tongue, while Cecilia just tore through them, cutting her way towards the Whitebud Wanderer.

  “I do not care what kind of shit immortal you have become. Since you dare to lay your hands on Alnea, I will just cut you up, Flames or not.”

  “…Cutting him up might be a little difficult. But if that is what you wish, then aim for his crystal heart. That is the core of his transformation.”

  “…How did you—

  “How did I know your weakness?” Vestia said, drawing her bow, and aiming her arrow at the Whitebud Wanderer’s heart. “What did you expect when you transformed in front of us? That we would close our eyes? Or become as stupid as your followers?”

  “…It does not matter. Even if you know my weakness, can you hurt me?”

  “Let’s take a guess,” Vestia said, and released her arrows. All five of them. But Whitebud Wanderer did not even bother to look at those arrows. Instead, he glanced at a silent part of the fog. Relatively, that is. The fog had not been silent for quite some time. Their battle had only made it even more boisterous than before. Not to mention the miracle he had summoned.

  Still, as the arrows pierced through the fog, they left a path of swirling fog behind them, making a different kind of noise. And it was this noise that the Whitebud Wanderer ignored, turning towards a part of the fog that was just roiling around from the movements of the Wanderers in the distance, before raising his hand and conjuring a flame. It was about the size of his head, and of the same shade as his Flame form, but not part of his body. And as such, he did not have any problems throwing it into the fog.

  In the next moment, the flame clashed against something in the fog, before bursting apart. Not because it could not withstand the attack, but simply because that was what the flame was meant to do. To burst apart. Just like a Fire Ball. That too, a rather strong one. At least of the Peak Stage. Maybe even stronger. Though not as strong as a True Fire Ball. Still, its impact was more than enough to shatter the invisible arrow hurtling through the fog, breaking the illusion of the other five arrows.

  “Did you get your answer?”

  “Not yet,” Vestia said, notching another arrow on her bow. “I still need to do a few more tests.”

  “…That is enough,” the Whitebud Wanderer said, releasing a wave of fire with him as the centre. And though the flames were not strong enough to hurt anyone, they were more than enough to shatter the illusions weaved by Vestia, scattering all five of her figures, while forcing her out of hiding, revealing her true self to be just ten metres behind the brown robed Wanderer.

  “What tricks are you going to use now, Weina?”

  “…Forget it. Since you do not like my tricks, I will let someone else handle you.”

  “Are you—

  The Whitebud Wanderer paused in midst of his words, and turned towards the white haired girl, just as she clenched her first, dispersing the flame floating above her palms.

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  “…You have shown us the Miracle of Fire. Now, let me show you its Despair.”

  Right in the next moment, a black flame erupted from Yuri’s body, and spread around her like how ink spreads on paper, devouring everything that came in its path, be it the fog, the trees, the ground, and even the Wanderers. It was only when the fire reached about ten metres from her, that it stopped spreading. But it spread so quickly, and so abruptly, that the Wanderers close to her did not even have the time to react before the fire was already upon them.

  For such Wanderers, running was not an option. So, they chose to fight against the flames. And when that did not work, they turned to just defending themselves. In vain. In the end, they could only try to put off the fire climbing up their arms and legs, while screaming in despair. Screams, which turned into symphonies, as they reached Yuri’s ears, finally bringing a smile to her face. One so terrifying, that even those who were not facing her could not help shuddering in fear.

  “Watch carefully, Whitebud,” Yuri said, glancing at the Wanderers around her, rolling around in flames. “This is how you are going to end.”

  “…Night? Death? No wonder we were not able to find any information about you… Are you from the Union or Ornis Domain?”

  “I am your Death. Nothing more. Nothing less.”

  “…I will assume that you are from the Union then. After all, the Serpia clan does not have any connection with the Ornis Domain. There is just one thing I do not understand. Why would someone from the Union meddle in the affairs of the Tes Domain? Are you not afraid of the Tes clan’s revenge?”

  “Assume what you like,” Yuri said, walking through the flames towering above her head, not in the least bothered by having her secret revealed. “You are still going to die screaming in despair.”

  “…You are right. No matter where you are from, it is not going to change the fact that we are enemies. As for your origin… That is something for those old men in Ann to worry about. I just need to bring you back along with the boy.”

  Grinning to himself, the Whitebud Wanderer rushed towards—

  The Whitebud Wanderer paused in his steps, and turned towards his left to face a pair of claws, shining in greenish black light, one going for his head, and the other, for his chest. And though he considered only his chest as his vital point, his intuition told him to block both the attacks. So, he raised his hands and met the claws with his flames. Solid flames, that burst apart on the first contact, pushing both him and the Serpia girl away from each other. But not before she could make him understand why his intuition was warning him.

  “…You surprised me, Serpia,” the Whitebud Wanderer said, glancing at the blood trickling down his hands. “I did not know that I could still bleed.”

  “I told you,” Cecilia said, regaining her balance, before glaring at the Whitebud Wanderer with disdain. “Flames or not, I just have to cut you up, and you will die just like anyone else.”

  “…Indeed. The Miracle can only give me the conditions to be invincible. It cannot make me invincible directly. At least not with the little contribution I made. To truly become invincible, I still need to work hard to realise the full potential of the Miracle. Thank you for giving me that valuable lesson, Serpia. And for reminding me to never underestimate my enemies. I will never repeat that mistake again.”

  “Do not worry,” Cecilia said, as she rushed towards the Whitebud Wanderer once again. “You will never have the chance to repeat that mistake.”

  “…Why do you Serpians never listen?” the Whitebud Wanderer said, blasting the Serpia girl away from him once again. This time, from a distance. He could not let the girl approach him. Just as he could not let the arrows heading his way hit him either. After all, he was not sure if his apparent invulnerability to attacks could keep the arrows from hurting him. The sizzling of the flames, as they met with the arrows, only further proved his guess.

  The girls he was facing were vicious. All three of them. Especially the white haired one. Though she had made the least number of moves, the number of Wanderers who had died in her hands was the greatest. And the method she used to attack his weakness was also the most dangerous of them all. That black flame…

  Fortunately, though she was dangerous, for some reasons, she was forced to walk at a slow pace, taking a step every three to four seconds. As long as he maintained his distance from her, she would not be a threat to him. The other two girls, on the other hand, were moving too quickly. Even faster than all the Wanderers around them… Did those idiots take him for a fool?

  Deliberately slowing down, showing flaws in their movements, giving the girls the chance to slip past them, and approach him… Even fools would find a more subtle way to test his limits. Then again, they probably were not trying to hide their intentions anyway. Just as he did not hide his disdain for them. A Miracle was called as a Miracle for a reason. It could not be repeated over and over again.

  But those idiots would never accept that explanation. Not after they witnessed him transform into Flames at will, and take on attacks that would have been fatal to other humans, without so much as even a scratch. He may not have become truly invincible yet, still, the abilities he had shown were enough to make anyone jealous of him. He would have been too, if he was in their place. And his actions would only have been even more overbearing.

  Though, just because he understood those idiots, did not mean that he would also entertain their whims. Besides, even if the miracle could be repeated, he would never let anyone have the same ability as his. So, whether it was to squash any unnecessary troubles, or to punish them for daring to plot against him, he had to teach those idiots a lesson. Not a fatal one, of course. He did not think that he had become strong enough to take on a True Wanderer, let alone so many clans at once. But those idiots had to be taught a lesson, or they would never stop pestering him.

  Thus, as he retreated from the girls, pressing him from two sides at once, the Whitebud Wanderer reached out to the Miracle once again. This time, not in the Flame possessing the black robed boy, but within his own chest. Within his heart beating inside of the crystal. Or was it the crystal, that was inside his heart?

  The Whitebud Wanderer did not know. Neither did he care. All he wanted was to urge the Miracle hidden inside of his chest. The Fire resting in the crystal, waiting for his call. And when it did get his call, it jumped right into action, bursting forth from within his chest, spreading to his arms and legs, before surging out of his body, greeting the world with its glory once again. The blazing glory, that had been suppress by the forest since time immemorial. The glory, that came with the Miracle of Fire.