“…They do not seem to be the same as those we saw in the city,” Alnea said. “But we cannot be sure. There are too many ways for Wanderers to hide or change their appearance.”

  “Prudence is always a good virtue to have,” Daena said, nodding her head, without even glancing back. “But you do not need to worry. These people are not the same as those stuck up fools in the city.”

  “Then…”

  “They are my guests. Though I did not think they would dare to show up, let alone come so soon…” Nyssa said, trailing off towards the end, before glancing at Daena. “Can Lady of Raining Thunder please look after my disciple and his friends, while I deal with them?”

  “Not if you keep calling me like that,” Daena said, lacing her voice with a hint of dissatisfaction. “I think we are beyond the point where we need to address each other with our formal titles.”

  “Then Lady Daena—

  “Just Daena would be fine.”

  “Then please, Daena. I will leave their safety up to you.”

  “No worries,” Daena said, nodding back with a smile. “As long as I am here, even if those seven old fogeys come at once, they still would not be able to touch the children.”

  “…I am not a child,” Daes mumbled, but was ignored by both, her mother, and Alnea’s master.

  “So, go ahead with confidence…”

  “Nyssa.”

  “Well, go ahead with confidence, Nyssa, and leave the children to me.”

  Nyssa answered Daena’s confident smile with a nod, before drifting towards the enemies in the distance. At least, that was what Alnea assumed them to be. They surely did not look like they were from the Serpia clan. Or from the Union. And they did not seem to be too friendly either. Though they did seem to have a smile on their faces…

  “Want to hear what they are talking about?” Daena said, glancing back her daughter and her friends, of whom, only three nodded instantly, while the rest looked a little hesitant. Eavesdropping was frowned upon by all Wanderers, let alone those of the Grand Rank. But some assurance by the boy and the white haired girl, the other three also lost their hesitation.

  “Thank you, Aunt Daena.”

  “It is alright,” Daena said, pausing at the boy for a moment. “They seem to be here for you anyway. It does not hurt to let you listen to what they are saying.”

  For him? As he had expected. But they did not seem to be from the Lotus clan. Or their allies. And Aunt Daena had already said that they were not from the city. So—

  Before Alnea could think anything else, he felt the air around him change slightly, as if it was mimicking some actions. And in the next moment, he could clearly hear what his master was talking with those people.

  “You came earlier than I expected,” Nyssa said, stopping just some twenty metres away from the six Wanderers. “Did you like the surprise I prepared for you?”

  “It was not exactly to my taste,” said the man, hovering behind the rest of his companions, as he brushed his fingers against the scar running from his left forehead to his right chin, with a bright blue flame dancing at their tips, matching in hue and shape to the patterns sewn into his dark blue robe. “Usually, I am the one giving the surprises.”

  “Then I am afraid you are going to be disappointed once again,” Nyssa said, completely ignoring the blue flames, as they multiplied behind the blue robed man’s back. “Did you not learn anything from the lesson I gave you last time?”

  “Why not try and find it yourself?” the blue robed man said, breaking out into a grin, conjuring even more flames, dyeing everything around them in its shade. “Maybe you will not be so disappointed.”

  “…You seem to be much more confident than last time,” Nyssa said, glancing at the five men in front of the scarred man. “Do you think they can help you even out the odds?”

  “Who knows?” the blue robed man said, shrugging his shoulders. “It would be best if they can. Though I doubt that they can hold for long against a Grand Wanderer.”

  “…Puppets?”

  “Such a crude name,” the man said, glancing at his creations, guarding him from the woman. “I prefer calling them as Saints. People who sacrifice their entire being for the great cause of the Lord.”

  “…You finally decided to stop hiding?”

  “That is where you are wrong, Lady of Thorns,” the scarred man said, shaking his head. “This fire… It is not a means for me to hide.”

  “It does not matter,” Nyssa said. “You are going to die today anyway.”

  “…You could not kill me half a year ago, what makes you think that you can kill me now?”

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  “And what makes you think that I could not kill you back then?” Nyssa said, narrowing her eyes. “You are underestimating the gap between the Mystic and the Grand Rank, rat.”

  “Perhaps,” the scarred man said. “But I am not the kind to make the same mistake twice.”

  “Is that why you have been buying time?”

  “Buying time?” the scarred man said, blinking twice, before bursting out in a laugh. “Why would I need to buy time when I have been waiting here for over a month?”

  The moment that the man finished his words, countless blue and red lights lit up on the ground, forming hundreds of small and large circles, covering even Daena at the back, stretching as far as thousands of metres in all directions.

  “Welcome to my realm, Lady of Thorns,” the scarred man said, spreading his arms, as the blue flames behind him spread out, filling out the entire skies. “Welcome to the realm of Ghost Fire.”

  “Ghost Fire?” Nyssa said, glancing at the flames. “Fire… and Death?”

  “As expected of the Mystic Lady of Thorns… No, it should be the Grand Lady of Thorns now. That should make you the youngest Grand Wanderer in the Union for the past tens of thousands of years, right?”

  “You figured that out just from the phantom I left behind?” Nyssa said, shifting her gaze back to the scarred man, nodding in appreciation. “A sharp mind, and the courage to go beyond the norm… Not bad. If you were not a Heterodox Wanderer, I might even have introduced you to the Union.”

  “…You are not going to deny it?”

  “What is there to deny in front of a dead man?”

  “…That arrogance,” the scarred man said, clicking his tongue. “As expected of the woman who gained an observatory seat in the Union’s Council as just a Mystic Wanderer.”

  “That is not arrogance, but confidence in my own strength.”

  “…I am curious, Lady of Thorns. What is a person of your status doing in the Tes Domain? Why did you suddenly take fancy to a mere civilian, and accept him as your disciple? Why are you risking yourself fighting against both, Orthodoxies, and Heterodoxies, to keep him safe?”

  “…I can understand your concern about my disciple, but you also seem to be very interested in me?”

  “After all, you are the first person to completely disregard my flames.”

  “I have told you before, you should never underestimate the gap between the Mystic and the Grand Rank.”

  “…You may be able to fool others, but you cannot fool me, Lady of Thorns,” the blue robed man said, brushing his scars once again. “Even Grand Wanderers cannot wrest control of my flames from my hands, let alone copy it from just one glance.”

  “…It looks like my phantom did something unnecessary. No wonder she did not send me all the memories.”

  “…What exactly are you, Lady of Thorns?” the scarred man said, licking his lips. “How can you command unfamiliar Mysteries like your playthings?”

  “Are you sure that I was unfamiliar with those Mysteries?”

  “Mysteries of Fire? Perhaps not. But the Mysteries of Death… Especially the ones in my flames… They are the core inheritance of my Heterodoxy, that can be comprehended only with the help of certain treasures.”

  “…Is that so?” Nyssa said, flipping her palms, and conjuring a wisp of bright blue flame, giving off the same fluctuations as the flames covering the skies behind the scarred man’s back. “Then the inheritance of your Heterodoxy must be very weak.”

  “…You really have a big secret,” the scarred man said, with a strange, blue light shining in his eyes. “I made the right bet this time.”

  “…At least the phantom’s mission was not a total failure,” Nyssa said, clenching her fist to extinguish the flame in her hands. “So? What are your plans now? Do you want to capture me? Or my disciple?”

  “What is stopping me from capturing you both?” the scarred man said, urging one of the smaller circles shining below them to shoot chains of blue flames towards both, the woman, and the boy. Yet, before the chains could reach their targets, they were either blocked by a shield of thunder or just dissipated into thin air.

  “You should try a little harder,” Nyssa said. “This level of flames are not even enough to reach me.”

  “…Since you have such high expectations of me, how can I let you be disappointed?” the scarred man said, as the flames behind him roared to life, swaying wildly in the skies, as if they could not wait to rush towards their master’s enemy. But the man refused to unleash his flames just yet. Instead, he urged his ‘Saints’ to spread out, and surround the woman, forming a circle with her as their centre.

  “Another Ritual?” Nyssa said, not even bothering to glance at the puppets. She could not care less about what they were doing. “Maybe, if your puppets were at the Grand Rank, I would have been concerned. But a Ritual performed by mere Mystic Wanderers, no matter how weird, can never threaten a Grand Wanderer.”

  “You would be surprised by how wrong you are, Lady of Thorns,” the scarred man said. “I admit, that in normal circumstances, the gap between Mystic and Grand Wanderers is unsurmountable. But there are always exceptions to that rule. Just like how the Serpent Matriarch slayed a Grand Thrall at the Mystic Rank, I have also personally slain no less than six Grand Wanderers with this Ritual. And do you know what those six Grand Wanderers had in common?”

  The scarred man paused, urging all the circles he had laid in the desert activate one by one, until all the circles were rotating and shining brighter than ever, before finishing his words.

  “Arrogance. Disdain, and arrogance. Disdain in the strength of a Mystic Wanderer, and arrogance in their own strength.”

  “What you term as arrogance, was once just confidence. It was only when they could not stand true to their confidence that it became arrogance.”

  “And you think you can keep your confidence from turning into arrogance?”

  “Maybe. Only time can tell.”

  “But that time is already at hand, Lady of Thorns.”

  “Perhaps,” Nyssa said, glancing at the hundreds of circles shining around them. “Have you finally finished your preparations?”

  “…You are going to regret looking down on me, Lady of Thorns,” the blue robed man said, licking his lips once again, as he brushed the scar on his face. “You are going to regret everything you did… And then, you are going to tell me all your secrets.”

  “…Since you are ready, then tell me, Ghost Fire. What gives you the courage to ambush two Grand Wanderers so close to the Lost City?”

  “You want to know where my confidence comes from?” the scarred man said, breaking down into a hysterical laugh. And the more hysterical he became, the more the flames behind him lost their restraints, until they all surged forth towards their master’s enemy. But those were just a part of his preparations.

  Along with the flames, there were also the hundreds of the Glyph Arrays he had prepared, all releasing their effects at once, some as flames of all shapes and forms, and some as dark, ethereal clouds, emanating ominous air, all trying to engulf the Lady of Thorns. Just like the Ritual released by his ‘Saints’, temporarily blocking the woman’s connection with her Roots.

  “This is where my confidence comes from.”