Chapter 26
The four figures descended from the cracked sky like judgments. Their auras bled through dimensions — warping the surroundings, making walls ripple and time pulse like a wounded heart.
But it was the fourth one, the one with Nezutsu's face, that made the air grow colder.
He wore robes of violet and black. No flame flickered around him — yet the ground beneath his feet was reduced to ash with each step. His eyes weren't Nezutsu's. They were made of mirrors — reflecting every death Nezutsu could have died.
"He's me…" Nezutsu whispered. "But… wrong."
Velgrim nodded grimly, still gripping his Obsidian-marked blade. "That is the Reflected Flame — the version of you that chose power without consequence. The gods erased him. Burned his name. But reflections have a way of slipping through the cracks."
"And now he's real?" Kaelith asked, stunned.
"Not fully," the Librarian replied. "But real enough to kill."
The Opening Blow
The hunters moved as one.
Silthros vanished — no, rewound. He skipped backward in time, appearing behind Velgrim before he had even blinked.
With a hiss of unmaking, Silthros stabbed — but Velgrim turned just in time, his blade colliding with the hunter's dagger of memory.
"Back off," Velgrim growled. "I've lost enough memories. You won't take more."
Vael'Ruth launched herself at Kaelith — eyes flashing with voidlight. Her whip snapped through the air, wrapping around Kaelith's twin blades.
"Mirror Bane," Kaelith spat. "I heard you choked the sky's reflection until it shattered."
"I did," Vael'Ruth said. "Want to see how it looks on a girl with star-blood?"
Kaelith ducked, rolled, and retaliated, her knives singing silver arcs.
Krinokh, meanwhile, didn't attack. He laughed.A hollow, spiraling cackle that shook the world. Buildings wept ink. Birds dropped from the sky, forgetting how to fly.
And finally… the Reflected Flame stepped toward Nezutsu.
"You're not ready for what we are," the reflection said softly. "But I am."
"I didn't choose your path," Nezutsu growled.
"No," he replied, "but you will. In time. You'll beg for it when they break you."
A Flame Divided
The air between Nezutsu and his reflection shimmered — then tore. They charged.
Nezutsu's violet fire erupted — but the reflection mirrored it. Identical flames, yet twisted. His opponent's flame carried no warmth, only hunger.
They clashed, fire vs fire — and Nezutsu's body screamed in confusion. It couldn't distinguish between its own essence and the intruder's.
"You are just a ghost," Nezutsu growled through gritted teeth.
"And you," the reflection replied, "are just the part that hesitated."
The reflection raised his hand — and pulled forth a blade of pure regret. Not metal, not magic — but forged from Nezutsu's deepest shame.
Nezutsu staggered. He recognized the memories etched into the blade:
His fear during his first magical duel.
The time he watched Kaelith cry and said nothing.
The night he almost gave up and begged to be normal.
The blade hummed.
The Reflected Flame struck.
Subplot Revelation: The Librarian's Bargain
As Nezutsu fell back, the Librarian watched in silence.
Velgrim shouted, "Aren't you going to help him?"
"I already did," the Librarian replied. "I gave him the truth. The rest… is his choice."
Velgrim cursed. "We'll all die before he chooses."
The Librarian's form flickered.
And suddenly, it was beside Nezutsu — not physically, but inside his mind.
"Your flame is not made to be mirrored," the Librarian whispered. "You must split it. Divide your soul and choose who deserves it."
"What… does that mean?"
"You carry the First Spark — the original flame from the time before the gods. It is too much for a single self."
"Then I'll burn."
"Not if you give the reflection what it wants."
"And what is that?"
The Librarian's voice turned distant.
"A name."
The Choice
In the real world, the Reflected Flame stood over Nezutsu.
"This is mercy," he said. "Give me the spark. Let me finish what we started in the other timeline."
Nezutsu rose slowly, breath ragged.
"You want a name?" he asked.
"I want my identity. You were chosen. I was forgotten."
Nezutsu nodded.
"Then take it."
He pressed his palm to the reflection's chest.
And whispered:
"You are Zureth'Kel. You are the wrath of every god who thought me unworthy. You are the flame that doesn't wait for permission."
The reflection's eyes widened. For the first time — he smiled.
"Thank you," he whispered… and vanished.
The other hunters froze. One by one, they turned to smoke — fading from this timeline.
Nezutsu fell to his knees.
Kaelith rushed to him.
"What did you do?"
"I gave the part of me that only wanted rage… a name of its own. A destiny of its own. And in doing that… I kept mine."
Aftermath: Scars of Power
Velgrim was bleeding. Kaelith was shaking. But they were alive.
The Librarian approached, now thinner, frayed.
"You split your soul, Nezutsu. You created balance. Few have done it and survived."
"And the reflection?"
"Gone… for now. But not erased. It has a new path — and it may cross yours again."
Nezutsu stood, flame flickering.
"Let it come. I'll be ready."
"You should leave Abyssreach," the Librarian warned. "The next city will not wait for you to be ready. And neither will the gods."
Kaelith asked softly, "Where do we go next?"
Velgrim, grimacing, pulled a burnt scroll from his pocket.
"To the Vault of Drowning Stars — where the Old Gods sleep."
"Why?"
"Because one of them just woke up."
[TO BE CONTINUED…]
The four figures descended from the cracked sky like judgments. Their auras bled through dimensions — warping the surroundings, making walls ripple and time pulse like a wounded heart.
But it was the fourth one, the one with Nezutsu's face, that made the air grow colder.
He wore robes of violet and black. No flame flickered around him — yet the ground beneath his feet was reduced to ash with each step. His eyes weren't Nezutsu's. They were made of mirrors — reflecting every death Nezutsu could have died.
"He's me…" Nezutsu whispered. "But… wrong."
Velgrim nodded grimly, still gripping his Obsidian-marked blade. "That is the Reflected Flame — the version of you that chose power without consequence. The gods erased him. Burned his name. But reflections have a way of slipping through the cracks."
"And now he's real?" Kaelith asked, stunned.
"Not fully," the Librarian replied. "But real enough to kill."
The Opening Blow
The hunters moved as one.
Silthros vanished — no, rewound. He skipped backward in time, appearing behind Velgrim before he had even blinked.
With a hiss of unmaking, Silthros stabbed — but Velgrim turned just in time, his blade colliding with the hunter's dagger of memory.
"Back off," Velgrim growled. "I've lost enough memories. You won't take more."
Vael'Ruth launched herself at Kaelith — eyes flashing with voidlight. Her whip snapped through the air, wrapping around Kaelith's twin blades.
"Mirror Bane," Kaelith spat. "I heard you choked the sky's reflection until it shattered."
"I did," Vael'Ruth said. "Want to see how it looks on a girl with star-blood?"
Kaelith ducked, rolled, and retaliated, her knives singing silver arcs.
Krinokh, meanwhile, didn't attack. He laughed.A hollow, spiraling cackle that shook the world. Buildings wept ink. Birds dropped from the sky, forgetting how to fly.
And finally… the Reflected Flame stepped toward Nezutsu.
"You're not ready for what we are," the reflection said softly. "But I am."
"I didn't choose your path," Nezutsu growled.
"No," he replied, "but you will. In time. You'll beg for it when they break you."
A Flame Divided
The air between Nezutsu and his reflection shimmered — then tore. They charged.
Nezutsu's violet fire erupted — but the reflection mirrored it. Identical flames, yet twisted. His opponent's flame carried no warmth, only hunger.
They clashed, fire vs fire — and Nezutsu's body screamed in confusion. It couldn't distinguish between its own essence and the intruder's.
"You are just a ghost," Nezutsu growled through gritted teeth.
"And you," the reflection replied, "are just the part that hesitated."
The reflection raised his hand — and pulled forth a blade of pure regret. Not metal, not magic — but forged from Nezutsu's deepest shame.
Nezutsu staggered. He recognized the memories etched into the blade:
His fear during his first magical duel.
The time he watched Kaelith cry and said nothing.
The night he almost gave up and begged to be normal.
The blade hummed.
The Reflected Flame struck.
Subplot Revelation: The Librarian's Bargain
As Nezutsu fell back, the Librarian watched in silence.
Velgrim shouted, "Aren't you going to help him?"
"I already did," the Librarian replied. "I gave him the truth. The rest… is his choice."
Velgrim cursed. "We'll all die before he chooses."
The Librarian's form flickered.
And suddenly, it was beside Nezutsu — not physically, but inside his mind.
"Your flame is not made to be mirrored," the Librarian whispered. "You must split it. Divide your soul and choose who deserves it."
"What… does that mean?"
"You carry the First Spark — the original flame from the time before the gods. It is too much for a single self."
"Then I'll burn."
"Not if you give the reflection what it wants."
"And what is that?"
The Librarian's voice turned distant.
"A name."
The Choice
In the real world, the Reflected Flame stood over Nezutsu.
"This is mercy," he said. "Give me the spark. Let me finish what we started in the other timeline."
Nezutsu rose slowly, breath ragged.
"You want a name?" he asked.
"I want my identity. You were chosen. I was forgotten."
Nezutsu nodded.
"Then take it."
He pressed his palm to the reflection's chest.
And whispered:
"You are Zureth'Kel. You are the wrath of every god who thought me unworthy. You are the flame that doesn't wait for permission."
The reflection's eyes widened. For the first time — he smiled.
"Thank you," he whispered… and vanished.
The other hunters froze. One by one, they turned to smoke — fading from this timeline.
Nezutsu fell to his knees.
Kaelith rushed to him.
"What did you do?"
"I gave the part of me that only wanted rage… a name of its own. A destiny of its own. And in doing that… I kept mine."
Aftermath: Scars of Power
Velgrim was bleeding. Kaelith was shaking. But they were alive.
The Librarian approached, now thinner, frayed.
"You split your soul, Nezutsu. You created balance. Few have done it and survived."
"And the reflection?"
"Gone… for now. But not erased. It has a new path — and it may cross yours again."
Nezutsu stood, flame flickering.
"Let it come. I'll be ready."
"You should leave Abyssreach," the Librarian warned. "The next city will not wait for you to be ready. And neither will the gods."
Kaelith asked softly, "Where do we go next?"
Velgrim, grimacing, pulled a burnt scroll from his pocket.
"To the Vault of Drowning Stars — where the Old Gods sleep."
"Why?"
"Because one of them just woke up."
[TO BE CONTINUED…]