Elias walked toward the clan headquarters, the core of the soul flame pulsing in his grip and tugging at everything around him.
He could feel the core of the flame strengthening with his every move. Souls of nearby creatures drifted into it, vanishing with a faint glow.
He thought back to the moment he had entered the flame in the Xiawen mansion.
All around him, stone doors and wooden walls had half melted away, anything infused with aether slowly crumbling.
After searching the core of the flame for a bit, he finally found a hidden passage in the family's vault.
As he walked deeper into the vault, Elias's body felt sluggish, and his head buzzed, clouded with fatigue, like a faint, persistent hum in the back of his mind. He could feel wisps of old memories from his first life drifting away.
Just because the flame was weakened and the aether restriction did not suppress him because of his rune didn't mean he wouldn't be affected. This flame would still burn the soul of anyone who enters it, and even his rune was powerless against it.
The more the flame ate away at his soul, the more memories he would lose. Yet, Elias wasn't afraid. If the flame were at its peak, Elias' soul would have been immediately destroyed when he touched even the aura of the flame.
A matured soul flame could scorch entire landscapes, reducing a region to empty, ashen ground. It would've devoured everything in this place, leaving no structure, no cultivator, no trace of aether or soul.
This was a rank 5 material for a reason. However, Elias still decided to risk it knowing that. This kind of opportunity wouldn't come twice.
A massive, half-melted door stood before him at the end of the tunnel. The metal was scorched, bent from the heat. Elias pushed it open with one steady shove, stepping into a room lined with charred shelves and burnt cabinets.
Piles of ash filled every corner probably remains of books or scrolls, everything reduced to dust by the flame. Near one corner, there was even an unidentifiable corpse of a young child... Raymond.
"I had some suspicions but now I am sure. Liandor probably used the soul flame aether supressing effect in an attempt to save his grandson. Such a foolish decision. Even if it could give him more time, being near a soul flame for prolonged period would slowly eat away his soul." he thought as he simply ignored the corpse.
Ignoring the wreckage, his eyes settled on the pedestal in the room's center. A small, dark blue flame flickered there, hovering just above the stone. Ghostly figures twisted around it, barely visible shadows that shifted and writhed in pain.
"Found it," he thought, his gaze fixed on the flame that looked exactly like a manifestation.
As he moved closer, memories from his first life started slipping away—faces, names, and moments he hadn't even realized he still remembered. The flame took it all as if scraping through his mind for anything it could burn.
Elias gritted his teeth, keeping his hand steady as he reached out. The flame pulled harder, tearing entire chunks of his past, but he pushed through, focused only on the dark-blue light now in his hand.
He turned and walked out, the core's glow trailing behind him.
When he emerged, he could hear the silence. The other cultivators were too stunned to react, staring as he left the Xiawen mansion with the flame's core in his hands, the rest of the fire trailing behind him.
He was glad the flame wasn't at its peak strength; a fully grown soul flame could burn through entire regions without stopping. But as it was, he could manage it.
Walking toward the clan's base, Elias pushed himself to hold onto only the memories he needed—things about the Game, his plans. Everything else could go. He didn't need his first name or stray details from his past.
Those were only a burden.
"Those are useless to me," he murmured, his voice as calm as ever. Elias wasn't the least phased at the thought of losing entire chunks of his identity. The past should stay in the past.
He walked on, his eyes unwavering, even as the cultivators around him scrambled out of his path. Some tried to signal, and a few even attempted to approach him, but the fire's aura repelled them, blanketing him in a heat that made the air ripple.
Elias kept moving toward the headquarters, his gaze fixed straight ahead, unbothered by the chaos around him.
The core in his hand burned brighter. Buildings on either side began to smoke, then sag, wood and stone alike crumbling to ash as the flames devoured them.
"We have to stop him!" a cultivator shouted, panic widening his eyes. "If the flames reach headquarters, we're all doomed!"
"Someone, do something!" another yelled. "How are we supposed to get close?"
"What should we—"
"Enough."
The voices stilled as the clan's patriarch stepped forward, his expression unreadable, but his eyes sharp and focused. Surrounding him were the clan elders, each watching with their own wary stares.
Liandor, one of the oldest among them, seemed the most shaken, his face paling as he took in the sight of Elias carrying the soul flame's core.
The clan leader stood tall, eyes narrowing at the sight of the core blazing in Elias's hand, flames flickering and feeding on the air around them. Elders gathered beside him, tense and wary, but none more shaken than Liandor, whose face went pale as he stared at the soul flame.
Elias stopped, his expression indifferent, before he spoke with a loud voice, enough for everyone to hear. "I need high ranked materials."
The patriarch's eyes sharpened. "And why would you need those?" he asked, his voice calm but filled with suspicion.
Elias lifted a hand, gesturing toward his own aperture. "I intend to use the materials—and this flame." he said as he looked at the flame in his hand.
"And intentionally fail an ascension to destroy it."