Fire Mage

Edith's words made Meledin and Kirell freeze.

In truth, what she said was absurd—almost impossible to believe.

"If they're avatars of Gods, why are they scheming with a demon? Aren't they supposed to protect Edhen?" Kirell asked with a frown.

"Didn't you see the Holy Son of Order colluding with this demon to kill Kaisar?" Edith replied, drawing a droplet of blood from Xelyria and weaving it into an identity imprint.

"It's hard to believe… but if what you're saying is true, it could shake the whole world," Meledin spoke solemnly, his eyes following her every movement.

"From their earlier conversation, Asthar and the others seem to be targeting Lord Runeth," Edith continued, taking a strange blue crystal from her pocket. "They consider him a major threat after he revealed himself as an Archmage. If they realize we've killed Xelyria, they'll try other means to assassinate him."

"Then what are you suggesting?" Kirell asked.

"I can shapeshift and read memories. I can use these abilities wisely to continue working as Xelyria and gather more information. We'll use their plan against them when the time is right and wipe them out completely."

While she spoke, Edith had absorbed a mountain of information: Xelyria's past, the Divine Order, the Nyxirum drug, terraformation experiments, and hidden labs.

"What's your plan?" Meledin asked.

"We wait," Edith's voice was calm but sharp as steel. "We expose their true colors in front of everyone. Until then, I act as Xelyria and stay hidden."

She tightened her grip on Xelyria's neck and snapped it, ending her life without a sound.

"That's a good idea." Kirell folded her arms and nodded.

Edith's eyes glimmered with quiet resolve. "We should also prepare for any unexpected situation."

Meledin, standing slightly behind, said nothing, but his clenched fists betrayed his tension.

Almost an hour crawled by.

Then the air itself screamed.

A jagged crack split the space in front of them like shattered glass. Distorted light spilled through, and from it staggered a middle-aged man, bathed head to toe in crimson blood.

It was none other than Kaisar, the Sword Emperor of the Blood Empire!

Sword wounds riddled his body—hundreds of them—some so deep that bone gleamed beneath torn flesh. His breath came in rattling gasps as he stumbled out of the rift. The sword in his hand slipped from weakening fingers, clattering onto cobblestones, and he collapsed face-first to the ground.

"Kaisar!" Kirell shouted.

Edith vanished and reappeared beside him, scooping his limp body up with a flicker of magic. Kirell and Meledin rushed forward.

She pressed two fingers to Kaisar's neck. Her face hardened. "He's barely breathing."

"No ordinary potion will heal wounds left by a legendary swordsman," Kirell said grimly. "We should take him to the Life Church—"

Before he could finish, Edith's eyes glimmered. She extended her palm, and a bluish-green flame burst, swirling like liquid jade. Without hesitation, she hurled it onto Kaisar's body.

"W–what are you doing?!" Meledin's voice cracked in panic.

Kirell caught his arm. "Wait. Look at the flame."

The flames didn't burn. They clung to Kaisar's wounds like living water, releasing a cool radiance. Before their astonished eyes, torn flesh knitted together, bleeding stopped, and his breathing steadied.

Meledin's eyes widened. "This… this flame is healing him?"

"Yes." Edith's voice was low. "It's better for Kaisar to stay hidden for now. If those three learn he's alive, they'll suspect our plan. We can't risk that."

Kirell and Meledin exchanged a silent glance and nodded. They understood.

The soul-flame dimmed, leaving only faint steam rising from Kaisar's skin. His pulse was weak but stable now.

Slowly, he opened his eyes and looked at them. His gaze focused on Edith. Though faint, he sensed the same aura as Edward from her.

A smile touched his lips.

"It seems my time hasn't come yet." He took a strange bronze disk from his pocket and handed it to Edith.

"I took this from Hector's pocket. This disk seems very important to him."

'Oh? Isn't this the strange disk Asthar gave to Hector?' Edith took it silently and stored it in her spatial ring along with Xelyria's corpse.

"Then I'll be going now."

Her body ignited with crimson blaze. The flames wrapped around her like a cloak, and she vanished, leaving only a faint scent of ash.

Kirell knelt, lifting Kaisar carefully onto her shoulder. "Let's get him out of here."

Meledin looked at the cracked alley where space had been torn, then turned away. Together, they left Reaper's Alley.

…

Edith returned to Mermaid's Inn and told Runeth and Rhea what had happened.

After hearing everything, Runeth fell into deep thought.

"Do you think we can kill all three Gods' avatars?" he asked, brow furrowing.

"I can kill one avatar on my own. If Meledin, Kaisar, and Kirell help, it's not impossible," Edith answered.

"Wrong assumption." Runeth shook his head. "They aren't avatars of Gods for nothing. Those legendary Mystics won't last five minutes against one of them."

"What about you, Sir Runeth?" Rhea asked.

"I can take on a single avatar and even kill one on my own, but facing two would be dangerous," Runeth sighed.

In truth, he could kill all three within a minute if he were in his prime.

Unfortunately, he was still weakened.

"Hmm. Why wait for them to assassinate Sir Runeth? Shouldn't we ambush them when they're alone and kill them one by one?" Rhea asked.

"If any of them realize something's wrong, they'll flee. And each represents a major empire. Killing them outright would start a war," Edith nodded.

"We need proper evidence first. That's why it's best to bait Mr. Runeth and let the other council members see their true colors."

Runeth nodded.

After a while, Edith left the inn and headed toward West Borough.

Even though it was late at night, carriages still rattled over cobblestones and people moved through the streets. The night air was damp and heavy, the faint chime of cathedral bells echoing over the city. Gaslamps flickered like pale stars, their glow swallowed by the looming silhouette of the Grand Cathedral.

Edith moved through the crowd at a calm, measured pace. Her hood was low, concealing her face from merchants and holy knights crossing the square. When the crowd thinned, she slipped into a narrow alley between a shuttered bakery and an old church.

No eyes followed her.

"Good," she murmured.

She activated her identity imprint and the [Shapeshift] skill. Her hair drained of its dark hue, strands of molten gold spilling over her shoulders. Her cheekbones sharpened, skin paling to marble-white. A half-formed vertical eye unfurled on her forehead—its lid twitching but never opening. Even her voice shifted—silkier, lower, an echo of Xelyria's tone.

The black robe she drew over herself smelled faintly of brimstone.

"Let's skim through her memories first."

She closed her eyes and dove into the mass of stolen thoughts. Images bled together: a broken black throne beneath a sky of ash, a contract written in blood, a crimson seal, and so on.

'Xelyria. Exiled Demon of Abyssal Layer 572. Sent here by the Demon of Misfortune…'

'Wait… isn't that Theta—the so-called God of Truth?'

Edith's brow furrowed. "So that's who's pulling your strings."

The deeper she went, the darker it became.

During the last planetary war, demons and devils were slaughtered like vermin when the Sun God appeared on the battlefield. Retreat became exile; exile became survival. Desperate, they left some demons in Edhen, along with abyssal crystals.

Those demons created an organization called 'Divine Order' and started mass-producing a drug using the abyssal crystals.

Nyxirum.

A drug that eroded the soul. In small doses, it offered power. In large doses over time, it changed the very air. The Slum Borough had already turned into a miasma zone where chaos leaked unseen, corrupting every breath.

Edith's brows knitted as another memory surfaced: crates of Nyxirum passing through human hands, peddled by gang members. This time, the rot ran deeper.

"So the drug's been spread for years… No wonder the legendary powerhouses couldn't find the demon before."

"And the demons like Xelyria and Jagis were ordered to terraform the world for invasion."

Hundreds of demons hid behind human faces across the world.

At the center of the web stood the Divine Order.

They mostly kidnap humans and make them consume drugs for a long time. After that, they selected the most eroded addicts, whisked them away, erased their memories with ritual, then remade them as devout servants.

A chill rippled through Edith's veins as new memories surfaced in images.

The Divine Order was already breeding an army.

Another memory rose: maps, addresses, couriers. But she pushed past the Order's locations for now. That wasn't what she needed tonight.

She needed Xelyria's network here—contacts, safehouses, anything she could exploit.

Her focus sharpened until a single image surfaced:

A mansion. Two streets from the Grand Cathedral. White marble facade, gold-trimmed windows—and a sprawling underground complex beneath it.

Edith opened her eyes.

"So close to the Cathedral… bold."

The corner of her mouth curved. She straightened her hood, hiding the glow of her altered eye, and melted back into the street.