Tamura knelt in the scorched clearing, his fingers curled into the ash where the girl had died. His breath was shallow. His eyes unfocused.
Then, crimson.
His mark ignited violently, veins of red light racing across his skin like molten chains. The violet in his hair flared had then twisted into crimson, strands lifting unnaturally, as if pulled by something ancient and unseen. His aura surged outward, black and red, thick and suffocating.
This wasn't just rage. It was possession.
Tamura's infernal blood had taken the reins. The cardinal state. Part of his infernal heritage had just awoken.
His violet flames, born of chi, were gone. In their place: crimson flames, forged from pain and hunger.
Two souls. One body. And the wrong one was in control.
The forest began to burn. Not from flame. But from something lurking inside Tamura's presence. The trees groaned. The ground cracked. The air thickened with dread.
Two Redmane operatives stepped from the shadows—devil-pact bound, their bodies twisted with infernal glyphs and jagged armor. One was tall, with a jaw like cracked stone and a blade humming with cursed mana.
"So this is the flameborn," he sneered.
"Looks more like a tantrum than a threat."
The second, smaller but faster, grinned with blood-stained teeth.
"Let's clip him again. See if he regrows like a weed."
They raised their weapons.
Tamura didn't move. The tall one fired an infernal flame glyph. It was a direct hit.
Tamura's left arm exploded in a burst of flesh and flame. Aylin screamed.
Mugen surged forward, gathering his shadows. But Tamura didn't fall.
He turned slowly, eyes glowing with no emotion behind them. His arm regrew almost instantly. Bone twisted into place. Muscle wrapped around it. Skin sealed over it like molten wax cooling. The operatives froze.
"That's not mana," the smaller one whispered.
"That's something else."
Tamura stepped forward.
His aura lashed out, but not indiscriminately, but with predatory logic. The cardinal state didn't see allies or enemies. It saw energy. Low mana signatures were dismissed as prey not worth hunting. High energy was met with bloodlust. Hostility was an invitation.
The forest behind the operatives ignited. Dead trees turned to ash. The cursed glyphs on their bodies shattered. Tamura began to move in.
He grabbed the tall operative by the throat, lifted him off the ground, and crushed his windpipe with a single squeeze. Tamura turned to the smaller one and spoke with his distorted voice.
"I never believed in devils, demons, or even gods all that much. But now that I know, I wonder. Could it be that I am sensing fear from you?"
Tamura wasn't talking to the operatives. He was talking to the devil that the operatives were borrowing power from.
The operative tried to run. Tamura's aura speared through his back, dragging him into the air. He slammed both bodies into the ground, their mana flaring into flames, bones cracking. The tall one gasped.
"You're not a boy…"
Tamura leaned in, eyes glowing with pure malice.
"We're more."
Then he burned them. Not with fire, but with raw mana, their pact seals unraveling as they screamed.
And then, silence.
Tamura turned to his squad.
Eyes glowing. Aura wild. His breathing was unnatural.
Aylin raised her blade. Her palms were sweaty and her grip was slipping.
"He's not calming down."
Mugen stepped forward, his voice shaking. "Tamura. It's us."
Tamura didn't speak. His aura flared again. It was measuring them, testing their strength.
They braced to fight.
---
A golden light split the clearing.
It was soft. Warm. Unyielding.
Vayrik stepped forward, cloak trailing behind him like smoke spun from sunlight. His eyes glowed but not just with mana, but with something deeper. Something ancient.
Tamura turned to him snarling, whatever was laying within Tamura was feeling threatened. And Vayrik didn't flinch as he raised his hand, and his mana began to expand, pressing against Tamura's like a tide against fire.
Tamura's flames roared and then buckled. His body trembled. His aura started to crack. His knees hit the ground. Vayrik stepped closer, his voice low.
"You did right beside her Tamura."
Tamura's breath hitched.
"This wasn't your fault and I should've been here."
Tamura looked up, eyes flickering between crimson and violet. Vayrik knelt, placing a hand on Tamura's shoulder.
"You are mine to guide. And I swear to you if you must burn, that I shall not let you burn alone."
Tamura collapsed forward, unconscious.
The forest fell silent.
---
Smoke hung low over the clearing, curling around the scorched trees like mourning cloth. The air was thick with silence. No birds, no wind, no whispers. Just the crackle of dying embers and the soft, rhythmic breath of Tamura, unconscious in Vayrik's arms.
His body was limp. His mark had dimmed. But the heat hadn't left him.
Mugen stood a few paces behind, arms crossed, eyes locked on Tamura's still form. His mind raced, not with fear, but with calculation.
"He healed us," Mugen said quietly.
"His mana didn't just lash out. It chose."
Aylin sat on a broken log, wrapping a bandage around her arm.
"It felt like… it knew who we were. Like it was protecting us." She looked up at Vayrik.
"And you stopped him. Just like that."
Vayrik didn't answer immediately.
He adjusted Tamura's weight in his arms, gaze distant.
"He's not ready to carry what's inside him. Not yet."
Mugen stepped closer, voice low.
"You didn't use a suppression spell. You didn't cast a seal. You just… looked at him."
Vayrik met his gaze.
"Sometimes, control isn't about force. It's about being recognized."
Mugen frowned.
"Recognized by what?"
Vayrik smiled faintly.
"By what he's becoming."
They moved through the forest slowly, Tamura cradled in Vayrik's arms, his aura flickering faintly like a dying flame refusing to go out.
Aylin walked ahead, blades sheathed, eyes scanning for movement.
Mugen walked beside Vayrik, silent for a long time.
And then,
"You beat Vayra. Even when she cheated."
Vayrik didn't look at him.
"She played a game. I played it better."
"You're not just a guildmaster."
Vayrik's smile didn't reach his eyes. "No. I'm not."
As they reached the edge of the forest, the sun broke through the smoke—soft, golden, warm. Tamura stirred slightly in Vayrik's arms. His lips moved. One word. One name.
"Freya…"
Vayrik looked down. "Tamura. What exactly are you?"
The forest was quieter than it had any right to be.
Each step back toward the guild felt heavier, not because of distance, but because of what they were carrying. Not just Tamura, but the truth of what he had become.
Aylin kept glancing over her shoulder, eyes flicking between Tamura's unconscious form and the scorched trail behind them.
"I've seen mana burn before," she said softly.
"But that wasn't burning. That was… something like what the syndicate uses." She turned to Mugen. "Hey do you think he might be a..."
Mugen continued on looking forward, his voice low.
"No I don't. His aura didn't just react. It judged. It spared us. It punished them. Devils don't behave like that."
He paused.
"It's not just sentient. It's sovereign."
Vayrik didn't respond. His gaze remained forward, steady, unreadable.
Tamura stirred again, just slightly. His fingers twitched. A faint glow pulsed beneath his skin, like embers refusing to die.
Aylin slowed her pace to walk beside Mugen.
"You think he's still in there?"
"Tamura?" Mugen glanced at her. "He never left. But something else came with him for sure."
They walked in silence for a while.
The trees thinned. The smoke faded. The sky opened.
And in that quiet, Mugen whispered something he hadn't said aloud in years.
"I thought we were free."
Aylin looked at him.
"Huh? We are free. What the hell are you on about Mugen?"
"Then why does it feel like we're being watched again, like with Vayra?"
Vayrik's aura shimmered faintly in the light.
He didn't turn around.
But he smiled.
---