The sparks seemed to leave the swordsman's body and kept drifting up into the sky. He hung his head, and the flame-bladed broadsword fell from his hand and made a heavy sound as it hit the ground. It was not until he stopped moving that everyone saw that his body was already like a remnant, apart from the arrow wounds, many parts of his body were also slashed, and there were bloody gashes everywhere.
The commander had not yet given the order, and no one dared to act rashly. However, the shield-bearing infantry all simultaneously took a step back. They looked at each other in confusion and soon discovered that the reason why their bodies were retreating on their own was because of the intense heat wave that was rushing towards them. The violent heat made them instinctively step back, as if there was something invisible burning fiercely in front of them.
The sparks gradually extended, connected and became more prominent from Vasili's body, making him look like a bonfire. The flame burned away the arrowheads and his wounds. Vasili's five fingers twitched slightly, then he grabbed the flammenschwert that had fallen to the side and slowly stood up.
When the shield-bearing infantry noticed that his sword-holding movements had changed, it was already too late. The sword wrapped in divine fire had turned into a long whip and swept away the legs of all the mercenaries, causing them to fall like uprooted trees. Before they could hit the ground, another whip swept through, chopping off more than a dozen heads, and piercing through the mercenaries, pulled Pugio off his horse and tore off his left arm, making him roll in pain.
But Pugio quickly stopped howling and instead began to cackle. Fresh blood still poured from his charred wounds, but at the same time flames burst forth. The blaze consumed Pugio, making him burn more fiercely than Vasili. Using his remaining three limbs to prop himself up, he turned his head, now being devoured by fire, towards Vasili.
"Great swordsmanship, Martin, and it doesn't diminish the reputation of the 'Spearbreaker'," From his burning vocal cords emitted a beast-like roar. "But why are you fighting so hard? Since you are destined for obscurity, why fight like a flame? Look at me, Vasili, why not look at me?"
Seeing that Vasili was unmoved and continued to swing his flame whip, fiery beast, who was once Pugio, let out an incoherent roar. "I know, you only have Vitulus in your eyes. Through your swordsmanship, you think you are closer to him, but this is just a lie distorted by fire. Everything you do will only make you and Vitulus more distant," The beast could no longer contain its urge to kill, and with a kick of its hind legs, it pounced on Vasili.
"Give me the fire! Martin!"
The swordsman and the beast tangled and fell to the ground. The scorching bear demon that surrounded Pugio's charred skin kept trying to gnaw at Vasili's arteries, but he reached out and grabbed the creature's neck. The searing flames had almost caused Vasili's left hand to ignite, but his right hand found the sword handle that had fallen to the side.
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He swung forward, and the flame whip wrapped around the beast's waist. Vasili vigorously whipped, tearing the beast's body in half. He pushed away the lower half of Pugio's burned body, stood up, while Pugio’s upper torso still struggled, dragging himself forward with both hands. The blood flowing from his chest was ignited by the flames, leaving a stinking trail on the muddy ground.
Vasili wanted to chase forward, but his footsteps were too heavy and he fell to his knees. The beast, now fatally wounded, no longer aimed for Vasili or the divine fire, but instead struggled in vain for survival.
As if fleeing from the flames devouring him from behind, Pugio crawled despairingly into the depths of the forest, weeping as he climbed until he saw a pair of pure white bare feet in the darkness. He raised his gaze to see a white-haired young girl looking down at him from above. Hope flooded his remaining sanity, and in his final moments, he remembered the prophecy: "The white-haired girl will rescue him from the burning hell."
Pugio reached out to touch Dàn's feet, but she retreated. Dàn crouched down and comforted him gently, "I cannot accept your touch, Pugio," She took out a dagger from his belt and said, "I'm sorry, but this is the only thing I can do for you." With these words, the white-haired girl inserted the dagger into his brittle skull and rescued him from the burning hell.
Pugio's last memory was of a light-footed figure leaving him in the peaceful darkness.
Dàn and the group of virgins stepped over Pugio's corpse and continued on, finally arriving at the clearing by the bend of the river. The remaining flames burned among the scattered fragments of corpses. In the middle of the clearing sat a swordsman with his flammenschwert stained black with blood, hugging it tightly with both hands and leaning on it with his head drooping. Although he looked like he was sleeping at the moment, the anger he had just exuded almost burned Dàn's eyebrows off from her hiding place.
Perhaps he was a swordsman fighting beasts, but to anyone's eyes, he was more like a beast than Pugio.
The virgins halted beside the corpses, kneeling with one knee and reaching out to accept the residual flames that had lost their hosts. The flames climbed up their arms like living creatures and flowed into their hearts, making their dry hair glow. Dàn looked around, and the virgins holding the flames stood up one by one and looked at her with indifferent eyes before turning away and leaving.
Dàn ran forward and tried to pull their arms, but was pushed away and fell to the ground. She watched helplessly as the flames scattered throughout the forest, once again, gradually being swallowed up by the darkness. Dàn rushed to Vasili, lifting up his face, urgently saying, "They're escaping, taking the fragments of fire with them."
"Let them go, I can't move," even in the few words Vasili could barely speak, his exhaustion was evident. He couldn't even open his eyes, yet there was no hint of regret or pain in his expression. His bruised and bloody mouth formed a faint smile. "Pugio was right. Even though Vitulus and I were so close while I was wielding my sword, every strike only made us more distant," Vasili leaned his head against Dàn's thin shoulder. "Dàn, I'm sorry. I am but dead ash, incapable of becoming a king."
Dàn hugged Vasili tightly. Through his black curly hair, she seemed to see the crow goddess Greadadh perched on a tree, gazing upon the deaths and the gradually extinguishing hell brought by the two. She finally understood Greadadh's foretelling: Bringing Vasili back to the world would not only bring pain to the world, but also be cruel to him.
Despite the terror of realization, she still embraced her destiny. "Worry not, my king," Dàn lowered her long white eyelashes, "I will crown you with fire. I swear."