Chapter 89: Aftermath
Fire.
Ephraim was waiting to be burnt into scorch; considering he just submerged himself into yet another burning doom once more. He waited to feel first degree burns and then second, third—until he won't be able to feel anything any longer.
But nothing came. Not even the blistering pain. The fire was still intact, but it wasn't flaring him into a barbecue. He was standing amidst all the orange-red hue of the blaze, but it was simply . . . warm.
Ephraim glanced down to his sword, which was now enveloped with fire. The wisp he had slashed wrapped around all over the blade.
