Chapter 85: Blackheart
The atmosphere on the Tower’s first floor was buzzing with gossip, mostly revolving around two names: Stargazer and Ronald. Two non-gifted recruits stood near the entrance, exchanging whispers as new faces walked by, their curiosity piqued by the legends forming within the Tower.
"Have you heard about Stargazer?" one recruit said, leaning in closer. "He’s on the verge of becoming an apostle, or so they say. I mean, that connection to the stars... it’s something else entirely. He’s not like us."
The other recruit nodded, eyes wide. "Yeah, but the real talk is about Ronald. They’ve started calling him ‘Lake Spirit.’ You should’ve seen his breakthrough—it was terrifying. The whole room felt like it was drowning in his aura. It’s like his power has a life of its own now."
Before they could continue their hushed conversation, the Tower’s grand gate creaked open, and the recruits turned, eyes widening in surprise. Two figures stepped through, both showing clear signs of battle. Edmund, his arrogant posture unmistakable, strode forward, his body bruised but head held high. Behind him, Nando followed, his expression dark and brooding, covered in the same battle scars but carrying none of the pride Edmund seemed to revel in.
"Guess the rumors about the gargoyle terror were true," the first recruit whispered, noting the evident signs of conflict on both of them.
Nando barely glanced at the new recruits as he followed behind Edmund, his steps heavy with exhaustion. His mood, as usual, fluctuated between frustration and indifference. Edmund, ever the condescending one, made a point to walk faster, positioning himself ahead of Nando as they approached the center of the hall.
The room fell silent as Edmund called for the Overseer, his voice echoing with the authority of someone who already believed he was above the others. Nando, who had long stopped caring about the fanfare, stood a few steps back, arms crossed, his dark gaze fixed on the floor. He had spent most of their return listening to Edmund talk his head off. At some point, Nando had considered ending his own life just to stop the endless bragging. At least it would be peaceful, he thought grimly. The silence now felt like a blessing.
A small smirk played at Nando’s lips as he muttered to himself, "If being prejudiced means Edmund doesn’t talk to me anymore, then I’m fine with it."
The hall’s grand entrance shimmered, and the Overseer appeared with his usual imposing presence, draped in his red robe that signified his rank. His gaze swept across the room before landing on Edmund. With an air of casual authority, he addressed the room.
"It seems this year has been plentiful," the Overseer said, his voice carrying the weight of his power. "The Tower will see many new apostles before long."
His eyes settled on Edmund. "Show me."
Edmund’s smirk widened, his confidence radiating with every subtle motion. His hair ignited first—vibrant flames shot upward, crackling with fierce intensity. The fire flowed from him, not in bursts or chaotic flashes, but with controlled elegance, almost like it was a natural extension of his being. With a swift, theatrical flick of his wrist, Edmund exhaled deeply, and from his lips, a powerful stream of fire flowed forward, twisting and coiling like a serpent in midair.
The flames began to dance, flickering more aggressively before taking shape—a towering stallion, born from the very essence of the fire. Its fiery mane whipped wildly in the air, its body radiating blistering heat. Hooves, glowing like molten metal, stomped against the stone floor, leaving charred imprints beneath them. The creature stood beside Edmund, its presence as regal as it was terrifying.
The recruits scattered instinctively, stepping back as the heat pressed uncomfortably against their skin. Faces were awash with a mixture of awe and discomfort as the fiery familiar snorted flames into the air, radiating its own fiery arrogance in the room. The blistering warmth radiating from it made the air shimmer and warp slightly, distorting their surroundings.
The flaming stallion snorted, its eyes glowing faintly, like the heart of a burning ember. The sound of crackling flames filled the room, intensifying as the stallion shifted its weight, pawing the ground impatiently. The sheer force of its presence threatened to suffocate the air, its fiery essence almost overwhelming.
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The Overseer observed in silence, his sharp gaze studying every flicker of flame, every shift of power as if dissecting Edmund’s abilities piece by piece. After a long, tense pause, he finally spoke, his voice calm but filled with a certain gravity. "Forming a bond with a flaming familiar and turning it into your mana pool—a clever approach. You’ve stayed true to your gift."
Edmund’s smirk remained in place, but a flicker of pride crossed his features. “Of course,” he replied smoothly, his voice laced with arrogance. "I’ve learned to control this better than before. It’s not just about the power—it’s about precision." As if to prove his point, he raised a hand, and the fiery stallion obediently trotted forward, its form shrinking slightly as it merged closer to Edmund. The flames danced, curling around him like a living flame shield, enveloping him in a fiery aura.
The other recruits watched in awe, their reactions ranging from impressed murmurs to silent admiration. For all of Edmund’s arrogance, his mastery over his fire affinity was undeniable.
The Overseer took a step forward, his piercing eyes narrowing as he studied the familiar more closely. With a slight wave of his hand, a pulse of energy spread through the air, a calming wave that rippled across the room. The fiery stallion’s flames flickered in response but didn’t extinguish. Instead, it bowed its head slightly, almost as if in submission, before stepping back
As the stallion flared briefly before dissipating into embers, the other recruits remained quiet, uncertain how to react. The tension that had filled the room only moments earlier remained, though now it was tinged with an odd mix of admiration and intimidation. Some recruits seemed relieved as the overwhelming heat began to dissipate slightly. Still, the aura of power remained, heavy in the air.
Without further comment, the Overseer allowed Edmund to ascend. Edmund, ever the showman, didn’t linger long. He strode toward the staircase, his flaming stallion dissipating behind him as he ascended to the higher floors.
Now, all eyes turned to Nando. He hadn’t moved from his spot, but the frustration on his face was evident. The Overseer, sensing the shift in mood, allowed a small, amused smile to form.
"Are you always this serious, Nando?" the Overseer asked, almost playfully. But Nando didn’t react, his expression darkening instead.
In response, Nando’s eyes darkened into an abyssal black, a terrifying transformation unfolding as tendrils of inky darkness surged from his back. These tendrils twisted grotesquely, shaping into a pulsating black heart that hung above him like a specter of death. The heart throbbed with unnatural, rhythmic beats, each pulse sending ripples of malevolent energy through the room. The air thickened, oppressive, and suffocating, as a palpable wave of dark power radiated from the heart. Several recruits gasped in fear, some collapsing as they were overwhelmed by the sheer weight of the energy. The heart's surface writhed like living veins, its grotesque form growing more menacing with every beat, exuding malice. The room was plunged into a stifling, eerie silence, punctuated only by the ominous pulsing.
Nando's black heart mana pool was an eerie and unnatural creation, something he had discovered during his arduous return from the expedition. His affinity for dark magic, specifically tied to the concept of misery, had grown during the harrowing battles they faced, unlocking a potential within him that he hadn’t anticipated. The transformation took place when he was returning with the others to the tower—the black tendrils that had become a part of himself imbued with the misery of the long-gone Tomb Walker. The black tendrils' essence fused with his body, and over time, as Nando absorbed the suffering from both his enemies and the chaotic mana of the environment, the dark tendrils first started appearing, wrapping themselves around him in moments of intense combat. It had so happened to accumulate into this strange beating heart that sat within himself like a second of the organ. This grotesque pulsating mass became his mana pool, allowing him to tap into a vast reservoir of misery-fueled energy.
“That’s enough,” the Overseer said, his tone firm but measured. He held Nando’s gaze for a moment, his expression unyielding.
Nando blinked, pulling back the swirling tendrils with a sharp breath, the black heart fading into the dark void within him. The air in the room instantly lightened, and the pressure that had weighed on everyone began to lift. The recruits, who had been trembling in the face of his overwhelming power, breathed a collective sigh of relief, though some still looked shaken by what they had witnessed.
The Overseer took a deep breath and turned toward Nando, his expression now more contemplative. “You’ve been gifted with a rare and dangerous affinity, one tied to concepts most avoid. Misery is not an easy path to tread.”
Nando nodded slowly, his face set in grim determination. “I understand.”
The Overseer looked at him for a long moment before speaking again. “This power will grow, but you must learn to control it, lest it consumes you. Your mana pool is unique, but it carries with it the burden of others' misery trapped within. Misery has a way of latching onto everything around it—if you’re not careful, you will drag others down with you.”
Nando remained silent, knowing the Overseer’s words were not a warning to be taken lightly.
Nando nodded, his tone sharp. "Yeah, I’ve heard it before."
Without further delay, the Overseer gestured for him to ascend. Nando cast one last glance at the room—barely acknowledging the recruits still watching in awe or terror—before he made his way to the stairs, disappearing from sight.
The hall fell into a strange silence after that, the lingering presence of the dark heart still etched into the minds of those who had witnessed it. The recruits, once buzzing with excitement and curiosity, were now filled with a mix of admiration and fear. The path to becoming an apostle was no simple feat, and the power that came with it could be as terrifying as it was awe-inspiring.