Pain yanked Alfez back from the haze. His wrists screamed; rough rope cut into raw skin as his arms hung high above a splintered post. His head throbbed, the drug fog fading, leaving his mind painfully sharp.
Smoke clung to his lungs. Heat pressed against his back. Blood dripped from a shattered hand. The fire-elephant's molten body had vanished… or had it? Flickers of divine fire lingered in his vision, judgment burning behind his eyelids.
Laughter pierced the air.
A circle of bandits closed in…
Some sharpened blades lazily, others lounged like predators with no hurry. One kicked a bucket, splashing icy water across Alfez's face. He choked, coughing violently.
"So, he's awake," said one, voice cruel and flat.
Another yanked his hair, forcing his head back.
"This is what happens when you play hero," the man sneered, punching him in the stomach. Air rattled from his lungs.
"I-what…? Why tie me up?" Alfez gasped.
A rough laugh answered.
"Well, well," the leader said, stepping forward. Calm. Mocking. "This is how you speak to your saviors?"
Alfez blinked. "Saviors?"
His eyes swept the camp… empty.
The masked figure who had actually saved him was gone.
"Mask guy?" the leader frowned. "Who's he talking about?" The men shook their heads.
Alfez ground his teeth. "Damn it. That idiot left me with a bunch of criminals."
The leader's calm twisted. "Enough."
A nod, and the ropes tightened…
"Get this off me!" Alfez growled. "I need to get back to the Capital. Now."
The bandits laughed.
"The Capital?" The leader crouched, studying him. "Oh… you mean that floating country?"
"How would someone like you even reach it?" the leader pressed, almost savoring the doubt. "Besides… in the Upper World, it's always moving."
Alfez stiffened. A warning. A rule. Something that belonged to fate, not him.
"If you understand that," the leader said, standing straight, "then shut your mouth and hand over everything you have."
A faint, cruel smile tugged at his lips. "We'll spare your life."
Pain throbbed through his wrists, a relentless reminder.
Silence stretched heavy over the camp…
Alfez's mind raced.
Now he was here gagged, bound, under threat from humans, not monsters. They had kidnapped his weak body, wrists raw. Blood mixed with grime; diesel and sweat stung his nostrils. Every heartbeat tugged at the ropes, each one a sharp reminder that he was at their mercy.
Alfez clenched his jaw, forcing himself upright.
"Get… out…" he muttered, voice barely audible through gritted teeth.
A boot slammed into his side. He stumbled.
"Quiet?" the leader snapped, laughter cutting sharp. "You have no idea what's coming."
His head throbbed. His chest burned. And yet, beneath the fear, something stubborn sparked.
That moment with the masked maybe he could survive this too.
Pain, fear, and hope held him upright. The bandits waited, circling. Alfez's eyes burned with defiance, even as his body screamed in protest.
"You look hungry, kid," one of the bandits sneered, leaning close. "Let's feed you some Upper World garbage."
Alfez's stomach twisted as the man whispered, words crawling through his head like venom. Floating cities, elite rulers, and torment beyond imagination. It wasn't just stories; it was an attack, carving doubt deep into his thoughts.
"See this?" another shoved memories into his mind. "You think you're special. You're nothing. Most of your kind are dead or worse in this underwolrd you are Just another body for the highest bidder."
Alfez's teeth clenched, struggling against the mental onslaught, but the bandits' Non-Stops blows pressed hard, squeezing brain and soul alike. Panic threatened to take hold, but he forced his chest to rise, clinging to the present.
Then sharp pain shot through his hand. Reflexively, he bit down, screaming loud.
AHHHHHHHHH!
The sound echoed across the camp, breaking the rhythm of cruelty.
The bandits flinched.
"How dare you!" one shouted, stumbling backward.
Alfez's eyes burned red not from pain, but fury. Something deep inside stirred, an ember he hadn't realized was waiting.
A faint warmth began crawling up his arm. His gaze fell on his right hand. A red ring shimmered into existence on his finger. Alive...Pulsing...Radiating heat…
Sparks danced along his veins, tiny flames licking at his skin without burning it.
The bandits noticed. One leaned in, brow furrowed. "What's… wrong with his hands?"
The rope supporting him twitched. Heat pooled around it, humming with life. Alfez's fingers moved, responding to instinct more than thought. The ropes hissed, then glowed faintly, bending as if respecting his will.
"I… I'm not holding back anymore!" he roared, his voice trembling with raw, untamed power.
The bandits froze. Unease flickered in their eyes.
A shadow shifted above the ridge
"Damn… he's a flamer," Mike muttered under his breath. "But.... Can he control it."
The fire spread along Alfez's arms, precise and deliberate. Every insult, every torture, every mental jab fed it.
This time He didn't burn; he commanded.
The flames were extensions of his fury, his defiance, his will.
"I… I'm done being your victim," he growled. "Kill me? Torture me? Break me? No more."
A bandit lunged forward. Flames shot from Alfez's hands like living claws. The ground scorched, smoke curling upward.
His scream wasn't fear it was a roar, reclaiming the world that had tried to crush him.
Mike's shadow fell over the chaos. "Hey, wait! Don't kill him!"
Alfez froze, confusion and fury tangled in his chest. The ring pulsed, almost sentient, feeding the fire.
Mike stepped forward, sword at his side. "It's my fault. I dragged you into this… I didn't know your strength. But now I see it. You have power. You have the ring. You're not just a kid who fell from the Upper World; you can change this world."
Alfez's flames twisted around his wrists, responding to emotion. Even Mike flinched slightly at the glow.
"Leave him," Mike commanded the bandits. "This isn't your fight. Stay out of it if you value your lives."
The bandits hesitated. Fear flashed across their eyes, uncertainty creeping in. Every spark of Alfez's fire mirrored his will, defiance unbroken.
"Now," Mike said, turning to Alfez, voice low but firm, "I'll teach you everything about this world, your powers, survival, control… and yes…" He paused, eyes gleaming. "…how to become Girgongon Slayer."
Alfez blinked. "Girgongon Slayer? You're serious?"
"I'm dead serious," Mike replied. "But first… control your power. Understand it. Then we fight not as teacher and student, but as allies."
Alfez inhaled. The fire was no longer a chaotic lash of pain; it was a weapon that carried his will. The red ring pulsed brighter, as if acknowledging him.
"All right… then...," he said, steady now. "I won't hold back. Not anymore."
Mike smiled faintly. "Good. Let's begin. Starting with the bandits."
The would-be torturers swallowed hard. Escape was gone. Alfez's flames surged in a crimson storm, focused and ready. The red ring shimmered in tandem, almost alive a heartbeat of power wrapped around his finger.
Above it all, Mike watched. The boy from the Upper World had changed. Dangerous. Powerful. A flamer rising…
The bandits' fear was tangible now. Some tried to retreat, but their path was blocked by Alfez's flames. The fire wasn't wild anymore; it twisted and coiled around his arms like living claws.
One of the larger men charged, swinging a heavy club. Alfez slammed his hands together, and a wave of heat erupted, knocking the attacker off his feet. The man hit the dirt hard, coughing, eyes wide with disbelief.
"Stay back!" Alfez bellowed, voice hoarse but commanding. The other bandits hesitated, unsure if they were facing just a boy.
The ropes that had bound him earlier writhed and hissed, the flames licking them as if cleansing the pain he had endured. Every knot cutting into his skin seemed to vanish under his control. He flexed his fingers, sparks flying like fireworks, and the ropes collapsed into glowing embers.
"You think you can control this?" bandit leader shouted. "You're just a kid!"
Alfez's eyes burned brighter. "Kid? No. I'm…" His voice trembled with raw energy, and flames roared along his arms, red-hot and precise. "…done being powerless!"
He moved, and the remaining bandits scattered in panic. One tripped over a rock, another tried to swing a sword, only to have the blade glow red-hot, melting in his grip. Smoke curled into the sky, blending with the evening haze.
From above, Mike watched, arms crossed. "Good. Control, focus, intent. That's how fire becomes more than destruction. It becomes you."
Alfez heaved. The red ring pulsed like a heartbeat of its own, urging him on, feeding his energy.
A few bandits tried to run. Alfez snapped his fingers, and a wall of crimson flame surged between them and escape. Panic turned to terror. They had underestimated the boy. Underestimated the fire.
The large bandit leader stood frozen, gripping a jagged blade. "This… this isn't possible…" His voice shook.
Alfez stepped closer, every stride leaving trails of heat that warped the air. "I'm not the same kid you kidnapped," he growled. His flames flickered across his fists like claws ready to strike. "I'm… something else."
He unleashed on the bandits.
"PALM BLAST!"
tearing through the air like a storm of fury!
Mike descended from the ridge, landing beside him smoothly.
"Now you're ready. But this… this is only the beginning. The world beyond the Upper World isn't kind. It tests you. Breaks you. And only a few… only the strong… survive as Girgon Slayers."
Alfez's gaze followed him, flames coiling around his wrists, licking the air like living serpents. He could feel the fire's power humming through him, the ring tightening its connection. His chest burned with adrenaline, fury, and a strange thrill of purpose.
Girgon Slayer… the words reverberated in his mind. He had heard them before, but never imagined it could be him.
A shiver ran down his spine not fear, but disbelief. The fire around his hands pulsed, impatient, demanding action.
He stared at Mike, then at the fleeing bandits, then at his own glowing ring.
The realization hit like a hammer. The boy who fell from the Upper World beaten, gagged, and chained had become something new. Something dangerous. Something alive.
And he couldn't quite believe it himself.
"HEH!? Me… Gorgongon Slayer?"