Chapter 164
Chapter 164
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 164
Chapter Title: The Essence of Fire
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Since when was it?
From the ancestors of ancestors.
A longing passed down not through memory, but through records.
The three grand ducal houses of the greatest empire were nothing more than flashy empty titles on the surface.
The Southern Admiral, who possessed not only overwhelming naval power but also martial prowess unmatched by anyone on the seas.
The Northern Grand Duke, guardian of the snowy mountains and frost cliffs teeming with count-level and marquess-level monsters—and occasionally even duke-level ones descending once every few decades—was called the pinnacle among humans, save for the imperial guardian Ganax.
Two of the three grand ducal houses were hailed as guardians of the seas and shields of the North, but the Krueger family was derided merely as leeches sucking the blood of others for profit, blinded by gold alone.
In the end, even if they flaunted their power against the continent, it would last but a moment.
The Krueger family, wielding financial might, held the power to sicken the continent and plunge the most people into suffering in ways the Southern Admiral and Northern Grand Duke could scarcely imagine.
Yet it was also true that, even if they ruined economies and drove countless souls to ruin, a single powerful superhuman could force them to their knees.
For the Krugers were strong against the many weak, but lacked any equal to stand against absolute powerhouses.
‘In the end, at the very last moment, only the immense power one personally wields matters above all.’
Even the three grand ducal houses eyed each other warily because of Ganax in the imperial household, did they not?
The Emperor’s shadow, the Emperor’s shield.
Had he desired conquest over protection, the empire would have been called the continent itself.
That was why. The plan prepared from ancestors of ancestors. Amassing gold, manipulating credit, seizing control of logistics and economy at large—then, using that vast web of trade routes as foundation, gathering wealth and information, searching and waiting, waiting endlessly.
With utmost caution to evade the imperial eyes and ears, pouring in vast sums of money and time across generations, driven by that obsession.
Rumors spoke of something beyond even traits, a power granted without the forced price of karma, like the blind saint statue.
‘And in the end, I discovered it. A powerful attribute, a concentration of mana. Its location and the method to absorb it.’
Had he not fretted over information leaking to the imperial household, he would have learned it in a mere few years.
But what did it matter that he knew now? After twists and turns, he had obtained the Essence of Fire in hand.
It was a pulsating beauty.
The incarnation of flames that would burn out the eyes of any ordinary soul merely gazing upon it.
A blazing starlight, a gem entwined with every shade of red.
And something alive, curled within.
A massive concentration of mana and fire. The very essence of flame.
‘A living heart.’
The moment he retrieved it from the deepest depths of the dungeon—brimming with traps, monsters, and vile horrors akin to the great labyrinth of Labyrinth City Labirin—Kaiman thought:
At last, a chance to place his hand atop the one shaking the continent.
‘But it’s far stronger than anticipated.’
The only mishap was that the Essence of Fire’s power exceeded even the estimates of dozens of mages.
It was akin to drinking from a poisoned chalice.
Succeed in digesting it, and boundless glory would shine; fail, and it would incinerate every trace of Kaiman from the world.
If that conflagration born from it found no controller, it would burn even the surrounding magical barrier and crawl forth to ravage the continent.
More than the calamity or suffering it might bring others, Kaiman refused to let himself ruin the longing passed down from ancestors of ancestors.
Thus, leaving even his cherished daughter and family affairs behind, he secluded himself here to tame the Essence of Fire.
“Ha.”
Each turbid breath he exhaled scorched the air with red mana.
“What of that matter?”
“The shadows pursue them day and night.”
Platinum hair as if dusted with snowflakes, eyes sunken cold.
A man who looked chilling to the bone.
As Kaiman moved, red flames of mana drifted around him like halos of light.
Could anyone unfamiliar gauge that those tiny, sand-grain-like specks were mana compressed with such attribute density that they were visible to the naked eye?
The moment one such speck touched a human body, an inextinguishable mana fire would ignite, unquenchable by water.
Having swallowed an essence bearing such potent fire attribute, Kaiman’s body was now a mana bomb on the verge of explosion.
He had realized upon ingestion that fully neutralizing and absorbing it was impossible for one born human—so he had tried absorbing an opposing attribute to balance it within, like a tense tug-of-war.
But the moment the Saint Church seized the Orb of Storms, Kaiman could devote all his focus solely to suppressing the roiling fire mana, rendering him unable to act—his rage pierced the heavens.
“They haven’t diverted it to the place they desire yet, I see.”
“Yes. They seized it from us for some purpose of their own, so we pursue relentlessly day and night to prevent use, keeping them from meeting anyone easily.”
Kaiman drummed his fingertips on the armrest. The metal chair, enchanted with fire attribute to withstand his surging mana, glowed red-hot, sparks flying with each tap.
“If I can’t hold it in my hand right now, nor should they.”
“They’re down to eight now, and we rotate pursuits hourly—they’ll be caught eventually.”
At his subordinate’s words, Kaiman’s eyes sank cold.
Chase and chase. Until they vomited blood and collapsed from exhaustion.
So that even if they clutched the Orb of Storms to their death, refusing any handover, he could pry it from their grasp.
All bowed their heads at Kaiman’s command.
* * *
“Ah, why’re you so late.”
“You bolted ahead first.”
The moment our feet hit the gravel beach, Rachel approached with a grumble. Munching on a fist-sized stone apple she’d procured from who-knows-where.
“Ptooey. Bitter, so bitter.”
She chewed a few times, then spat it out sideways as if utterly inedible, extending her hand toward me.
I eyed that brazen hand, then silently opened my subspace—handing her an apple, and tossing ones to Cain, Luna, and Leaf while I was at it—before taking a crisp bite myself and scanning the island.
“Climbing the island does make it feel a bit more noticeable.”
―It’s a flow so faint, one wouldn’t notice without focus.
Well, I feel nothing myself. But my party’s different.
I glanced leisurely at the guide who’d ferried us over in the skiff, and Cain spoke up.
“That way?”
“Y-Yes. Correct. Head that way for the hidden path, and further on, the cliffs.”
“No further guidance needed, it seems.”
“Wanna bet who finds it first?”
Cain nodded in acknowledgment and strode off. Rachel scampered after with bouncy steps.
Well, can’t blame ’em—it was a nice spot.
I beckoned them to wait and rest, then followed Cain with Luna and Leaf.
“The path’s kinda rough.”
“Must be ’cause it leads to the cliffs.”
―I’ll hold your hand, Administrator.
I gently pushed away Leaf’s proffered hand toward me.
Sure, Leaf being a golem meant tougher than most, tireless, and fond of tending to me as designated administrator.
‘But my legs are still sturdy.’
Really, once we pick up our healer this time, gotta snag some movement artifacts—no more delays.
I’d thought it countless times, but something always cropped up first—people, places, tasks.
But with party members growing stronger, I couldn’t keep postponing if I wanted to walk abreast.
Steeled in resolve, I huffed up the rugged side path to the cliffs—when suddenly the view brightened.
Narrow path and obstructing trees vanished, opening to a vast expanse.
Atop the highest cliff, surging seas and sunlight-scaled waves dazzled under the fully risen sun.
“Memorize this view. Right now.”
It’d be smashed in ten minutes.
At my grinning jest, they solemnly eyed the sea once, then glanced at the stakes—likely left by the guide—and the ropes connected to them.
Normally, one would grip those ropes, descend the cliff, and enter the crevice cave midway.
“Cain.”
I called boldly, and Cain nodded once before scooping me up like luggage.
“Young master, I could carry you more safely…”
―Me too.
“Nah, pass.”
Sorry. Body’s fresh adult, but heart’s a young geezer—can’t handle being cradled down by folks smaller than me.
Rachel’s the exception. With her, I just know she’d yeet me off.
Lost in unrelated thoughts for a sec, and solid ground met my feet. The narrow crevice cave entrance.
Even standing right there, humid gusts carried a foul stench right to my nose.
“Hmm. Handkerchiefs for everyone?”
“Ugh, nasty. Blood’s familiar, but rotten blood? Not so much.”
―The path stretches straight ahead, but light ends at the entrance.
“Better than handkerchiefs, Young Master.”
Luna glanced at Cain, who stepped forward first, erecting a mana barrier around himself.
The stench vanished abruptly; I lowered my hand from nose and mouth, catching Luna muttering beside me, ‘He pulls it off so casually…’—impressive fine mana control.
Ever-reliable Cain.
If every household got one… chaos.
‘With that personality? Disaster.’
Shaking off the grim fancy, I opened my subspace and pulled out the codex after ages.
“Light.”
Floating it a bit ahead of Cain, it shone plenty bright. Cain’s shadow stretched across the cave walls like traversing them.
“Bugs.”
“Already buzzing around?”
Luna swatted at my clothes a few times; Leaf waved hands.
Rachel punched the air swiftly; something pattered to the floor.
I pulled out Aegis, tweaked settings to faintly emit electric mana around us, then floated it—soon, sporadic zaps sounded.
Knowing full well what lurked inside, the thought of those flying bugs touching us grossed me out.
Scanning around: Initially a natural cliff fissure, but later widened—scratches, chisels mixed with untouched spots everywhere.
Thus, the passage broadened from the entrance, until eventually…
“…Disgusting.”
―What malice breeds this?
“Mad bastards.”
And beside me, a low grind of teeth clenching.
The cavern wall, warehouse-sized, bore the Evil God Cult’s sigil in blood—and below, things starting to rot scattered about.
Impossible to count victims if not for severed or barely-attached heads.
Sliced, crushed, stomped, torn, burned, drowned.
Even a rough glance screamed more atrocities beyond.
No one questioned why such horrors.
This world invited it.
Those acts weren’t mere impulse or delusion—they summoned something real, exacting a price in some form.
And how vast the toll paid to their god by the Evil God Cult, still rampant across the continent?
“Remember it. The mana here.”
Ours or the cult’s. Until one side vanished entirely, we’d meet them again.