Mordek stepped forward, the dim light catching along the sharp edges of his expression. His gaze lingered on the chains binding the woman and child before settling on Ronan.
"But that chain is unbreakable," he said quietly. "The only way to break it is through the caster. So tell me… who do you want to break your chain?"
The words struck deeper than they should have.
Ronan stood motionless, staring at the runed bindings wrapped around the woman's wrists and ankles. Thin veins of golden light pulsed through the engraved symbols like sluggish blood. The glow reflected faintly across the stone floor.
And suddenly, memory crashed into him. Silver Flame. The chains he had destroyed before. The burning. The erasure. His throat tightened.
The woman sat with her child pressed against her side. Their forms looked fragile beneath the dim chamber light, little more than dried remnants wrapped in cracked skin. Their chains scraped softly whenever they moved. The woman slowly turned her head toward Ronan.
Ronan did not answer. He simply stared. He had seen imprisoned souls before. Wandering remnants. Fractured spirits lingering in cursed places. But this felt different. Too human. Too aware.
The child slowly rose. Tiny feet dragged against stone as he approached Ronan without fear. Then the child reached forward and held Ronan's hand.
Ronan froze. There was no warmth. No cold. Only something dry and brittle. The sensation startled him. Beneath the thin layer of skin, there was no softness left—only sharp ridges of bone beneath parchment flesh.
Ronan's gaze lowered. The child's eye sockets were empty. Dark hollows stared upward. Yet somehow, impossibly, Ronan still felt watched.
The child tilted his head. "Won't you help us?"
The words pierced through him. Ronan jerked his hand free and stumbled backwards. "No… no…" His breathing quickened. "I can't." His head shook violently. Images flooded back. Silver Flame is consuming everything. No reincarnation. No release. Only complete disappearance. His vision blurred. "No… I can't do that…" His voice broke into a whisper. Moisture gathered in his eyes before he realised it.
Across the room, Mordek narrowed his gaze. "Can he truly break the seal?"
The child turned slowly toward his mother. She raised one skeletal hand, motioning him back. The boy obeyed without complaint. The chains dragged behind him with a scraping metallic sound that echoed through the chamber. He crawled back into her lap.
The woman gently rested a hand atop his head. "You misunderstand, Ronan," she said softly. "There are other ways to break chains."
But Ronan barely heard her. His mind remained trapped inside that memory. He took another step back. "I can't," he said again, voice strained. "I can't kill a child." Warm fingers suddenly wrapped around his wrist. Ronan flinched. He turned.
Lirith stood beside him. Her expression remained blank, unreadable as ever. Yet her grip did not loosen. She tugged him forward. Toward the woman and child. "They…" Lirith paused, struggling for words. "Pain." She looked toward the mother and son. "We… help."
The woman nodded slowly. "There is no need to fear," she said. "You are not killing us."
Ronan swallowed hard. "But the Silver—"
"I will guide you," she interrupted gently. "You do not understand it yet." She rose carefully. The chains rattled softly as she moved. The child followed. She walked toward the far end of the chamber.
Mist drifted through the room in thin streams, pooling low against the floor. At the centre stood a pedestal. A sword floated above it, suspended tip-down in the air. Vapour bled from its blade. Chains extended from the pedestal outward like roots. The metal looked ancient. Time-worn. Yet untouched by decay.
Ronan stepped closer. His eyes widened. He had expected a divine statue. Some sacred prison.
The woman glanced back at him. "Were you expecting a god's monument?"
"Yes," Ronan admitted before thinking.
A faint smile touched her ruined lips. "These chains have nothing to do with gods."
She pointed toward the glowing runes. "Those are the sources. Those symbols create the pressure you felt." Her hollow gaze lifted. "Very few statues carry true God's Will. And those are not made to kill."
Her voice lowered. "You could train beneath such pressure. Strengthen your soul."
The others approached behind Ronan. Dust shifted beneath their boots. The chamber felt quieter now. Heavier.
"We first destroy the source," the woman said. She pointed toward the floating blade. "That sword." Kael frowned. "How?" The woman lifted her hands. Her fingers moved through precise gestures. Massive magic circles erupted into existence around the chamber. Layer after layer. Intricate lines spiralled through the air.
Symbols rotated. Ancient incantations formed. Then one by one— They vanished. The sword dropped. Metal struck stone with a heavy clang. Mist still curled from its surface.
The woman lowered herself to the floor and crossed her legs. She gestured for Ronan to sit.
He hesitated. Then obeyed.
She raised her hands slowly. "Ronan," she said, "I will teach you how to break the chains." Her voice sharpened. "You must not weave."
Ronan nodded. "Yes." But uncertainty remained in his tone. Their palms touched.
Her skin felt dry. Ancient.
Ronan closed his eyes.
Nearby, Kael leaned toward Mordek. "Can we trust her?"
Mordek folded his arms. "I think so." His gaze remained fixed on the woman. "Even after generations trapped here, they have not lost themselves." He paused. Then looked at Ronan. "But I am more interested in that boy."
Kael frowned.
Ronan always looked uncertain and soft.
Ronan suddenly felt wind against his face. Cool. The sound of waves echoed around him. Stone. Water. Distance.
A voice called. "Ronan."
He opened his eyes. A vast sea stretched endlessly beneath a pale sky. Stone platforms floated across the water, connected by narrow paths. At the centre stood a massive round platform. A towering tree rose from it. Its branches spread like veins across the sky.
The woman appeared beside him. "This," she said quietly, "is one of the most beautiful Inner Worlds I have seen."
Ronan stared. "Inner world?"
"This is yours." Her gaze moved across the sea. "Still immature." Then her voice changed. Serious. Sharp. "Ronan. Never tell anyone about your Silver Flame."
He looked toward her. "Why?"
"You will become an experiment." Her hollow sockets seemed darker. "I lived a hundred years wandering before I became one." The waves crashed softly below. "I have never heard of anyone surviving Silver Flame." Her voice hardened. "Never speak of it."
Ronan's chest tightened. "Am I going to die?"
"No." Her answer came immediately. "You absorbed it completely."
Ronan released a slow breath. The tension in his shoulders eased slightly.
She continued. "I will teach you how to merge it with your Innate Crimson Flame."
Ronan stepped backwards. "No." His voice grew uneven again. "You said there were other ways."
"There are. But? You are not strong enough for them." Silence. The sea shifted. "You are the only option."
Ronan's jaw tightened.
"And afterwards? You must release us."
His breathing stopped for a second. "You want me to kill your child?"
The woman looked toward the distant sea.
"After the chains break, we can linger for some time." Her voice softened. "Without the chains, we fade."
"Then leave," Ronan said quickly. "Just leave."
"We will disappear slowly." The wind passed between them. "Centuries of waiting deserve an ending."
Outside the connection, Gorvath crossed his arms. "How can Ronan break something none of us can?"
Mordek watched the glowing circles beneath Ronan and the woman. "Power is not bound entirely by Tier." His eyes narrowed. "Someone weaker may still wield what others cannot."
The magic circles pulsed once. Then vanished. Ronan's eyes opened. He inhaled sharply.
Kael stepped beside him immediately. "How do you feel?" Ronan looked at him. Concern sat plainly across Kael's face.
"I'm fine." The words came quietly. He approached the chains. Closed his eyes. A flame appeared above his palm. Crimson. But within its core, thin strands of silver drifted like hidden veins. Barely visible. Ronan hesitated. Then threw it. The flame touched the chain.
Instantly—
Pressure exploded through the chamber. Ronan dropped to one knee. Stone cracked beneath him. His breath vanished. The force crushed downward. The flame wavered. Control slipped. The fire stretched suddenly toward the woman and child. The woman wrapped herself around the boy. Shielding him.
Ronan gritted his teeth. Sweat slid down his face. His arm trembled violently. "No. No." The flame shook. He forced his breathing steady. Pulled. Focused. The silver threads tightened back into the crimson core. Time blurred. Seconds stretched.
Then—
A sharp crack. The chains shattered. Golden light burst outward. The crushing pressure disappeared. Ronan collapsed forward, gasping. The room suddenly felt lighter.
The child ran toward him. He wrapped both arms around Ronan tightly. "Brother Ronan!" The words trembled. "Thank you… thank you…" His voice broke. "Mother doesn't get need to get hurt herself to break the chain."
Ronan froze.
The boy clung tighter. "I will finally feel her hug again."
The woman knelt. Her forehead touched the stone floor. The child copied her.
Ronan tried to speak. But his lungs still fought for air.
Then the woman lifted her head. She looked at him. A silent request. A sword appeared in Ronan's hand. Dark silver steel. Balanced. Elegant. Crimson flame coiled along its edge.
The woman embraced her son. She smiled faintly. "All my life," she said, "I hated flame magic." Her hand rested atop the child's head. "But in the end… destruction became salvation."
Ronan stepped closer. His grip tightened. The sword trembled. He knew. They were already dead. Long gone. Yet his body refused. His arm would not move. Resolve faltered. The blade lowered slightly.
Then—
A hand wrapped around his. Lirith.She stepped beside him. Without hesitation. Without expression. Her fingers tightened.
Together—
They thrust the sword forward. The blade pierced through both.
The child looked up. No fear. Only peace. "Thank you, Brother Ronan." His voice softened. "In the next life… I want to play with you."
The woman's gaze lingered on Ronan. "If you travel this world," she said, "you will see worse than this." Ash drifted from her shoulders. "Help when you can." Her voice weakened. "But do not let grief rule your choices." She looked directly at him. "Strengthen your resolve."
The child smiled faintly. "I feel warm." Their bodies crumbled.
Ash scattered into the air. Before disappearing, the woman whispered quietly—
"Who are you, Ronan… that a soul can feel warmth again?"
Then they were gone. Ronan slowly knelt before the ashes.
The room felt impossibly quiet. Lirith lowered herself beside him. Still expressionless. Still silent. Yet she remained there. Beside him.
When they returned to the adjacent chamber, Ronan's clone still sorted through piles of ancient books.
Dust floated through shafts of dim light. Paper shifted beneath restless air. The smell of age clung heavily to the room.
Gorvath broke the silence. "We need to think about leaving."
Ronan looked toward Kael. "Let's go to the last floor." As he looks at the teleportation circle on the floor.
Gorvath snarled. "You want to keep walking blind?" Frustration sharpened every word. "We barely have fighters. You want us dead?"
"The woman said moving forward is the only option." Ronan reminded.
Lirith frowned. "Not die."
Mordek opened his mouth— But one of Ronan's clones interrupted, lifting a torn journal.
"Kael, look at this. Something about a sword." He grinned toward Ronan. "And those lizards." Then his grin widened. "Yo. Why so gloomy, idiot boss?"
Lirith blinked. "Idiot?"
The clone burst into laughter. "Yes. Definitely an idiot."
Lirith pointed toward clone Ronan. "You idiot?"
The clone leaned closer. "Maybe. But he's a bigger idiot than me." The clone Ronan point to the original Ronan.
Lirith nodded seriously. "Nickname."
"Exactly."
She turned. Looked directly at Ronan. "Idiot."
Ronan stared at her. Then sighed. He kicked the clone. The clone laughed harder as he stumbled backwards.
"Lirith," Ronan said tiredly. "That's not a good word."
She tilted her head. "Bad?"
"Yes."
"Bad."
She nodded. Then looked thoughtful.
"Stop messing around," Ronan muttered. "Get back to work."
The clone bowed dramatically. "As you command, boss."
Mordek observed everything quietly.
His fist tightened. Before, he had only suspected. Now he knew.
Ronan's mastery of Phantom Clone exceeded expectations.
And yet—
The boy himself remained strangely soft. Too unwilling to harden.
Kael suddenly looked around. "Wait. Where's the second clone?"
The door burst open. A soaked clone stumbled inside. Water dripped across the stone floor. He panted heavily. "Boss!" He threw a storage ring. "In the water—Aether Crystal!" With a small burst of magic— He vanished.
Ronan caught the ring. A faint smirk appeared for the first time since the chamber. "Time to level up, Kael." He pulled several shimmering crystals free. Their inner light pulsed softly. Kael accepted them silently.
Ronan's expression darkened again. "Hurry." His voice lowered. "I don't want Sylphie and the others caught in this caravan."
Kael nodded. He sat cross-legged. The crystals glowed brighter as Aether flowed into him. The room was filled with quiet energy.