The blade pierced through Ignivar's chest.
For a moment—
Silence.
Then the flames froze midair.
Ignivar looked down at the sword lodged within him. Fire crackled across his colossal frame… but it no longer burned with fury.
Instead—
It flickered with acceptance.
"You carry rage… but not chaos."
His voice no longer thundered. It resonated calmly.
"The flame accepts you."
His massive body began dissolving into drifting embers.
"Beyond us lie those the sages feared…"
His burning eyes dimmed.
"The Sun does not forgive."
And then—
Ignivar vanished.
---
The world trembled.
CRRRRRRRAAAAAACK—
The Ashen Valley split apart.
Mountains fractured. Lava rivers spiraled into nothingness.
From the collapsing inferno, a crimson light shot toward Iren.
The Fire Ring.
It wrapped around his index finger.
A violent surge of heat tore through his veins.
His vision blurred.
His knees buckled.
"…So this… is the Ring…"
The sky shattered.
Darkness swallowed him.
And Iren fell.
---
Somewhere in the Mortal Realm
The scent of herbs lingered in the air.
Soft light filtered through wooden walls.
Iren's eyes slowly opened.
"…Where…?"
His body felt heavy.
Bandages wrapped his chest, arms, and shoulder.
He lay on a wooden bed inside a quiet cottage.
Near the window stood a familiar figure.
Long hair.
Calm presence.
A spear resting beside him.
"Aetherion…"
The Fire Sage turned.
"So you have awakened."
Iren tried to sit up—
"Ghk—!"
Pain shot through him.
"Do not move," Aetherion said evenly. "Your body was nearly destroyed."
Iren looked down at himself.
"…I won," he whispered.
Aetherion gave a faint nod.
"Yes."
Silence settled.
Then Iren frowned.
"How did you find me?"
Aetherion raised an eyebrow.
"I created Ignivar. I created the Fire Ring."
A faint chuckle escaped him.
"And you question how I located you?"
Iren froze.
"…Right."
He looked away, embarrassed.
"I saved you once," Aetherion continued. "I will not be able to do so again."
Iren's eyes sharpened.
"What do you mean?"
"The remaining Rings," Aetherion replied. "I cannot guide you to them."
Iren clenched the bedsheet.
"Then how am I supposed to—"
"When a Bodyguard is defeated," Aetherion interrupted, "the realm bound to them collapses."
Iren's heart skipped.
"…The Ashen Valley…"
"It collapsed."
Silence.
"So next time?"
"You will have only two minutes."
"…Two minutes?"
"As soon as the Bodyguard falls, the realm begins to disintegrate. In the final seconds—"
His gaze hardened.
"A massive explosion erases everything."
Iren swallowed.
If he remained inside—
There would be nothing left.
He looked at the Fire Ring glowing faintly on his finger.
"…Can I use it now?"
"No."
Iren blinked.
"But I obtained it—"
"You possess it," Aetherion corrected. "You have not awakened it."
"Then tell me how."
"That," Aetherion said calmly, "you must discover yourself."
Frustration flickered across Iren's face.
"Why won't you just say it?"
Aetherion looked directly at him.
"Because power given without understanding… creates monsters."
Silence.
Then—
"Remember this," Aetherion said.
"Rage without direction is destruction."
Those words pierced deeper than any blade.
Iren closed his eyes.
He remembered losing control.
Remembered Ignivar mocking his family.
Remembered almost becoming nothing but fury.
"…I understand."
"For now, rest."
---
Two Weeks Later
Rain poured.
CLANG!
CLANG!
CLANG!
Steel met steel as Iren swung relentlessly.
Sweat mixed with rain.
"Ignite."
Nothing.
He tried anger.
Nothing.
He tried calm focus.
Nothing.
Days passed.
He trained at dawn.
At midnight.
Under rain.
Under pain.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Still—
Silence.
---
One Night
The forest was unnaturally quiet.
Inside the cottage, Aetherion rested.
Then—
…tssssk…
A faint crackle.
Another.
FWSSSH—
His eyes opened instantly.
He stepped outside.
Cold air brushed his face.
And there—
In the clearing—
Iren stood barefoot on wet earth.
The Fire Ring blazed brilliantly.
Flames spiraled around him—
But they did not roar wildly.
They moved in controlled arcs.
Disciplined.
Iren's breathing was steady.
"Inhale…"
The flames expanded.
"Exhale…"
They compressed.
His sword ignited—
A blade of pure crimson fire extending from steel.
But the forest did not burn.
The fire obeyed.
Iren whispered softly,
"Not rage…"
The flames steadied.
"…Direction."
The fire condensed into a controlled aura around him.
No explosion.
No loss of control.
Only mastery.
Aetherion watched silently from the shadows.
A faint smile touched his lips.
"So," he murmured,
"You have awakened it."
Iren lifted his hand.
The flames dispersed into glowing embers drifting into the night.
He exhaled deeply.
A small smile formed.
He had done it.
Alone.
Aetherion turned back toward the cottage.
His role here…
Was complete.
---
The Next Evening
The sky burned red at sunset.
Aetherion spoke quietly.
"It is time."
Iren turned sharply.
"…Time?"
"I must return to my realm."
The words struck harder than steel.
"You're leaving?"
"Yes."
"Stay," Iren said immediately. "I still need—"
"You no longer need a savior," Aetherion interrupted gently.
"You need to grow."
Silence.
"…Then what do I do?"
"Join an academy."
"An academy?"
"Become a certified Hunter. Learn the magic cultivated by humanity."
His gaze sharpened.
"Earn your place."
Iren nodded slowly.
"And the Rings?"
"They will reveal themselves."
Aetherion paused.
"And Iren."
"Yes?"
"Do not speak of me."
"…Why?"
"Until someone who already knows about you asks… remain silent."
Before Iren could question further—
Aetherion lifted Solcaris.
FWOOOOOSH—
Flames spiraled around the spear.
He slashed the air.
SHRRRRK—
Space tore open.
A portal of fire swirled before them.
Iren stepped forward.
"Thank you… for everything."
Aetherion said nothing.
But his eyes reflected pride.
Before entering the portal, he extended something.
A small red stone carved in the shape of a flame.
Hanging from a long thread.
"A locket…?"
No explanation.
Only a faint smile.
Then—
He stepped through.
The flames closed.
Silence returned.
Iren stood alone.
He looked at the Fire Ring.
Then at the crimson locket resting in his palm.
"…I'll grow stronger."
Outside—
Thunder rumbled in the distance.
And somewhere far beyond flame—
Something ancient stirred