As he pressed a hand to his chest, the heat grew stronger, spreading like fire through his body. His breathing hitched, and he clenched his teeth to endure the growing discomfort.
"What... is happening?" he muttered under his breath. The pain was sharp but still manageable.
[...Analyzing...]
["Sacred Ember Flame" detected. Status: Tainted. Mixed with unknown energy. The foreign influence is disrupting its ability to preserve life.]
"Any way to solve it? It feels very bad having felling you body like burning from inside"
The pain surged again, this time overwhelming his senses. His muscles felt tight, and his vision blurred.
[The energy corrupting the Sacred Ember Flame is foreign in nature. It is not natural to the flame, disrupting its primary function of preserving life. Instead, it spreads and distorts the balance of the flame.]
"Foreign energy?" he muttered, than an idea came to his mind...
"wait wait just supress it i have a plan ," he ordered, his voice low and urgent.
[...If you say so. I will use your soul aura to suppress it temporarily.]
A faint hum resonated deep within him as his soul aura stirred, intertwining with the Sacred Ember Flame. The fiery sensation that had consumed his body began to ease, replaced by a dull warmth that pulsed rhythmically. He exhaled slowly, relief washing over him like a cool breeze after a storm.
"Huff... feels much better," he muttered, flexing his fingers as the tension in his muscles faded.
[The suppression is holding, but only temporarily. The foreign energy is persistent. If left unchecked, it will destabilize the flame again.]
"I figured as much," he replied, his tone steady. "But I need answers first. System, can you analyze this corrupting energy? Figure out where it came from and what it's doing to the flame?"
[Analyzing... Preliminary findings suggest the energy has a deeply corrosive nature, akin to rot. What's more troubling is that it seems to have been intertwined with the flame for a significant period.]
"What?" His eyes narrowed. "You're saying this has been inside the flame all along?"
[Correct. It is likely that the Sacred Ember Flame was tainted before it was used to save you. The energy remained dormant initially but became active once introduced into your body. It feeds off the flame's essence, slowly consuming it while also drawing on your life force as a secondary fuel.]
"Rotting it from the inside..." he muttered. "No wonder it feels like it's burning me alive."
[Its nature is one of decay and corruption. The origin is unknown, but it may stem from a curse, a failed purification attempt, or even deliberate tampering with the flame before it was entrusted to the woman who saved you anything is possible.]
"She had no idea," he said softly, almost to himself. "How long can the suppression hold?"
[Several days, at most. Beyond that, the energy will begin to seep through again, and the burning sensation will return.]
"Works for now"He thought
...
In the Morning
In the open ground, a young man and an older man were walking together. The younger man had golden hair and appeared to be around 24 to 30 years old, dressed in majestic, regal clothing. The older man, looking to be in his 60s or 70s, wore attire resembling that of a butler or servant.
As they strolled, the older man turned to the younger and spoke.
"Miss, regarding the young man you saved using the Sacred Flame... Do you believe it was worth it?" he asked, his tone measured.
"Yes," the young man replied, his voice firm but thoughtful. "I do think it was worth it. Though he may seem useless now, for some reason, I feel he has great potential. I believe it will prove worthwhile."
"If you say so, Miss, then I shall agree to teach him swordsmanship," the older man said, bowing deeply with respect. After a moment, he turned and walked away, leaving the younger man to his thoughts.
The old man made his way to the door of the room where the young man, whom the miss had asked him to train, was staying. He knocked a few times, but there was no response. After another few knocks, the door finally creaked open, revealing the figure standing on the other side.
"You?" The voice that greeted him held a hint of surprise.
"Elder Veran," the old man replied, his tone calm and respectful. Without waiting for further conversation, he turned and began to walk away. "Follow me to the training ground."
He hesitated, his gaze fixed on the old man's retreating figure.
'Is this the one Renaia wanted me to learn under? This old man appears to be just a normal servant...'
[Do not be fooled by his appearance. The old man may seem like a simple servant, but the energy within him is formidable. He is no less than 100 years old, likely nearing 200.]
"Real?"
[Real.]
"Guess the saying 'don't judge a book by its cover' is true," he muttered, slowly following behind the old man.
'...Well, I wasn't expecting her to have such strong servants...'
'System, if this old man wanted to kill me, how long would it take?'
[With his current energy signature, the old man could end your life within seconds if he desired.]
'...'
He followed Elder Veran to the training ground, which was located behind the building. It was a basic area with a wooden practice dummy in the center and various weapons scattered around.
Elder Veran stopped by the dummy and turned to face him. "Before we begin, you need to choose a weapon."
He raised an eyebrow. "I can choose?"
"Yes. I'll teach you swordsmanship, but if another weapon suits you better, choose that instead. What matters is how you connect with the weapon."
"Don't think about it too much. Just choose whichever you feel you like."
He glanced around at the assortment of weapons, each one displaying its own unique design and potential. There were swords, spears, and even more exotic options like a war hammer and a poleaxe. He felt a strange sense of uncertainty wash over him. He had never thought much about weapons before, but now, with Elder Veran's words echoing in his mind, it felt like a decision he needed to make carefully.
The words "connect with the weapon" lingered, making the decision feel more significant. He shifted his gaze back to the old man, who was watching him patiently.
With a slight nod, he walked forward, inspecting each weapon as he passed. The weight of some felt too much, others too unwieldy. He finally stopped in front of a katana resting against a wooden stand, its curved blade gleaming faintly in the sunlight.
The katana felt right. Light, balanced, and responsive in his hands as he carefully lifted it from the stand. It felt almost alive, like an extension of his own body. He swirled it lightly through the air, the motion fluid and smooth.
"This one," he said, his voice steady. "The katana."
Elder Veran nodded, his expression serious. "Good choice. This blade is forged for grace and power—designed for swift, decisive strikes, not raw strength. It requires precision and speed."
Old man gripped his own sword and unsheathed it in a smooth motion. The sound of metal slicing through the air was sharp and clean.
"Watch closely," Elder Veran said. "In battle, hesitation is death. The sword must be drawn and used in one fluid motion, as an extension of your body. Speed and timing are everything."
The old man demonstrated a few quick strikes, each precise and controlled.
"The difference between skilled swordsmen and amateurs lies in the rhythm," he continued. "The blade slices through flesh and bone with minimal resistance, but only if you understand how to move with it. Each strike must count."
"The sword doesn't just cut. It guides you. You must listen to its rhythm, and it will show you the way to strike and defend."
The lesson continued as the sun began to dip lower in the sky. The day wore on, and Elder Veran taught him the basics of the sword—how to strike from various angles, how to block with precision, and how to move fluidly in battle. His muscles began to ache, but there was something satisfying about the steady rhythm of the training.
By the time the last light of day was fading, his arms were sore, and sweat ran down his face, but the sword felt even more natural in his grip.
Elder Veran nodded in approval. "Enough for today. Rest. Tomorrow we build on what you've learned."
The old man paused for a moment, then turned toward him with a curious expression. "By the way, young man, what is your name?"
His words caught him off guard. He blinked, momentarily confused. "My name?" he repeated.
"Yes," Elder Veran said, waiting patiently.
He hesitated, unsure. "Umm… I… my name is Keeper. Weird, right? But it is my name."
The old man raised an eyebrow at the response, but his expression remained neutral. "Keeper, you say?"
"Yeah. It's strange, I know. I didn't choose it, but... it's what I've been called," he replied, scratching the back of his head, a slight embarrassment creeping in.
Elder Veran's gaze softened for a brief moment. "Names often hold meaning, even if we don't understand them at first. Keeper... perhaps that title has more significance than you realize."
He didn't respond right away...
"Rest well, Keeper. Tomorrow, we will continue. There's much to learn." Elder Veran's voice was calm.
with that old man walked away
he also walked back to towards his room
...
"How was your day with him, Elder?" asked the man standing beside Elder Veran.
The old man glanced at him briefly before replying. "Hmm… he learns well. Not a genius, but competent."
"Oh? I see," the man said, a faint smirk curling his lips. "Did I not mention he has an ability to sense danger?"
Elder Veran's brow furrowed slightly. "Sense danger?"
"Yes," the man replied, stepping closer to the window. "He can perceive threats before they happen. Fascinating, isn't it?"
Elder Veran didn't respond immediately, his gaze sharpening. The man moved to the window, casually drawing the curtains, darkening the room. Moments later, a burst of golden light illuminated the space briefly. When it faded, the man was gone. In his place stood a woman.
Renaia.
"The ability to sense danger before it strikes… quite intriguing," Elder Veran said, his voice smooth and laced with curiosity.
"And what more have you uncovered, Miss?" he added, his tone becoming more serious.
"Oh, quite a bit," Renaia replied smoothly, brushing her hair back as she faced him fully. "I sent some of my people to investigate his background. Would you like to know what they found?"
The old man remained silent, waiting for her to continue.
"Nothing," Renaia said with a widening smile. "It's as if he appeared out of nowhere—like a phantom without a past."
Elder Veran's expression darkened. "That is troubling."
"Troubling, yes," Renaia mused, her voice light yet sharp. "But also... intriguing. Don't you think, Elder?"
"Hmmm... I will look into it," the old man said, his tone thoughtful.
"But Miss, how is your plan to marry the princess progressing? It was the second princess, right?" he asked, shifting the topic.
"Yes," she replied, her smile barely noticeable. "It's going smoothly. It won't be long now—perhaps two or three more years."
"Good," Elder Veran said, his gaze steady. "Move quickly. We've already spent many years on this. It wouldn't be wise to waste your potential here for the sake of this mission, Miss."
She nodded, her expression composed, as the room fell into a heavy silence.
...
[So… you're planning to use Mist of Depravity to cleanse the Sacred Ember Flame of its corruption?]