The battle was over. The beast had been obliterated, leaving behind only a large crystal core levitating in the air where Zarathos had once stood. It was the beast's core—a concept from the novel, but something Seth recognized from his past life as a mana stone.
The core emitted a vibrant, pulsing glow, filling the ruined chamber with a kaleidoscope of light. Its sheer intensity hummed with raw energy, overwhelming the senses. This wasn't just any core; it was of the highest grade, a vast reservoir of mana. In the novel, a core like this fueled Zarathos' relentless attacks, acting as the power source behind the beast's rapid recovery and overwhelming offense.
Seth approached the floating core, his crimson eyes narrowing against the blinding glow. The devastation from his Eternal Blue Flames had left nothing but molten slag in the chamber. Walls once adorned with intricate carvings had melted away, leaving the core as the lone remnant of Zarathos' power.
"This core… Rankers in my old world would kill for something like this," Seth muttered, his voice tinged with nostalgia and dark amusement. "What was her name again? That crazed mage... She'd be drooling over this right now."
His fingertips brushed against the core's surface, and instantly, his eyes flared a deeper crimson. The binding mark on his neck—the pact with the Unseen Lord—reacted, pulsing in sync with the core's energy. A wave of discomfort washed over him, but Seth remained unfazed.
"O Unseen Lord, accept this offering as the price for borrowing one of your servant's seats," he whispered, his tone reverent yet strained.
The core glowed brighter, and energy flowed into Seth. He could feel the mana replenishing his depleted reserves, surging through his veins. After a moment, he pulled his hand back, severing the connection.
"That should be enough to satisfy Him," Seth murmured, flexing his hand as the mark on his neck dimmed, stabilizing the contract.
With that done, Seth turned his attention to Killian, who lay unconscious, his body battered and covered in wounds. Despite the severity of his injuries, Killian was still alive—barely. Seth knelt beside him, brushing aside a few stray locks of hair from Killian's face. A small chuckle escaped his lips.
"Heh, you look so peaceful. Not quite the scowl I'm used to," Seth muttered, amusement in his voice.
Placing both hands gently on Killian's face, Seth closed his eyes and whispered, "Flames represent passion, energy, and transformation."
A soft flicker of blue flames swirled around them as Seth continued, "From the ashes... to life."
The flames enveloped Killian's body, but rather than burn, they began to heal him. Deep gashes sealed, broken bones mended, and color returned to his skin. In mere moments, the wounds that should've taken months to recover were gone.
Once finished with Killian, Seth moved to Aiden, performing the same healing process. The beastman's singed fur and charred skin rapidly regenerated, his breathing evening out as his body fully healed.
Satisfied with his work, Seth stood and dusted his hands off. But a presence tugged at the edge of his awareness—someone was watching him. A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.
"How long do you plan on hiding?" Seth asked, his tone casual yet sharp.
A gray fox stepped out from the shadows, its eyes gleaming with intelligence. In an instant, the fox transformed into its human form—Royfield, Seth's ever-dutiful butler. Even after shifting, Royfield's immaculate butler attire remained perfectly in place.
Seth raised an eyebrow. "I see you've perfected the art of transformation without wrinkling your uniform."
Royfield bowed deeply. "My lord, I apologize for following you without permission. It was not my place."
Seth wasn't surprised. Royfield had shadowed him long enough to make it a habit. What once seemed like loyal servitude now carried a hint of suspicion.
Royfield hesitated, as if preparing to ask something, but Seth silenced him with a cold, commanding look.
"I'm not in the mood for questions," Seth said, his voice icy. His eyes shifted, the star-like pupils glowing against the deepening red. "If you wish to continue serving me, choose your words carefully. I don't trust you."
Royfield stiffened, his thoughts racing. Seth had always been a force, but this... transformation in his lord, both in power and demeanor, unsettled him. Still, Royfield knew his place. He bowed once more, his face calm.
"As you command, my lord. I will see to it that Raven's Guild Leader and Aiden are safely returned to the castle and given proper care."
Seth's gaze lingered on him, searching for any trace of deception. Finding none, he turned away. "Good. And Royfield…" Seth added, his tone darkening, "Next time you feel like following me, be better at it. It's exhausting pretending not to notice."
Royfield hid a smirk behind his bow. Despite everything, he had a role to play—a reason to remain in Arlecia. For now, he would continue to serve, silently observing, waiting for the right moment.
As he carried out Seth's orders, Royfield's thoughts lingered on what he had witnessed. The ancient magic, the blue flames—power beyond anything he'd seen, even in his years with the Seven Shadows. What had Seth become?
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Seth made his way to the edge of the massive hole where Killian and Aiden had fallen. Beyond lay a wide, ancient door, engraved with cryptic symbols. Unfazed, Seth stepped through it, knowing the treasure room awaited.
Inside, the reward wasn't danger or another foe—it was riches beyond measure. Piles of gold, gemstones, and treasures littered the chamber, reflecting the dim light with an ethereal glow.
Seth bent down, picking up a gold coin. He inspected it with a discerning eye, tossing it into the air and catching it with a smirk.
"Real gold," he muttered, letting the weight of the coin rest in his palm. He glanced around the room, marveling at the sheer scale of the hoard. Necklaces, rings, crowns—treasures fit for a king.
"This was supposed to be my mine," Seth mused, a slight grin tugging at his lips. "Instead, I've got a treasure room overflowing with wealth."
He casually flipped the coin, pondering what to do with such a fortune. While it didn't factor into his immediate plans, it would certainly come in handy later.
"I'll deal with this later," Seth decided, turning to leave. But just as he moved, something caught his eye—a faint glow from beneath the gold.
Curious, Seth approached and found a small, ornate black chest, partially buried beneath the coins. Intricate carvings adorned its surface, and a soft light emanated from within. He opened it, revealing an unexpected sight: a blindfold, black and soft as silk, with an intoxicating fragrance that lingered in the air.
Next to it lay a letter. Seth unfolded the note and read:
"The Eternal Flames will engulf the world in destruction. This piece of fabric, belonging to the Master of the Twelve Seats, will suppress the power of the flames. Use it to cover the eyes of those blessed with the Feather of Flames."
Seth's eyes narrowed. The Master of the Twelve Seats—an entity tied to the powers he had invoked earlier. This blindfold was meant to suppress his flames. Slowly, Seth raised the fabric to his face and tied it around his head.
The moment it touched his skin, an immediate calm washed over him. His body, once tense from battle, relaxed as his senses heightened. Though his eyes were covered, he could still perceive the world around him in perfect detail—every vibration, every shift in energy.
Outside, the once-raging blue flames that had consumed the forest began to dim. The fire slowly receded, and silence fell over the scorched mountainside.
As the flames faded, the people of Arlecia began to breathe easier. But the rumors had already started. Some claimed it was a divine event, others whispered of ancient prophecies. Yet, one rumor persisted more than the rest:
The Tyrant Lord had caused the flames.
And for those who had seen it firsthand—the mercenaries, the guild members—they knew the truth: it was not just a rumor.
The blue flames were real, and their fear was far more tangible than any gossip.
Seth leave the dungeon with satisfied smile on his face.