Chapter Sixty-Four: Root, Part Three
Ignarok’s movements were controlled, his steps precise as he countered each attack, his form a calm contrast to the chaotic onslaught Vox unleashed. His eyes remained focused, analyzing every move Vox made.
Vox stood back, his gaze darkening. “Time to stop toying with you, Ignarok!” he sneered. In his left hand, he gathered Burning Hindo, and in his right, Madness Hindo. Bringing his hands to his chest, he whispered, “Keijo,” fusing the two forms of Hindo into one. The energy pulsed and warped, creating a dangerous synergy.
"Today, you alone will witness the power I have now formed, Burning Blood Hindo. Be grateful to see such a sight before you take your last breath." His words dripped with malice. Vox seized his great sword, infusing it with Burning Blood Hindo, the blade throbbed with power.
He surged forward, moving so quickly that he seemed to disappear, reappearing directly in front of Ignarok with his great sword already descending in a deadly Slash.
Ignarok’s eyes widened, recognizing the threat. "He’s faster than before… I need to dodge!" With barely a moment to react, Ignarok unleashed, "Ruler’s Fumi: Repulsion of Magnus!" A faint light emanated from him, forming a barrier that shot out from his form and repelled Vox’s strike. The repulsion sent Vox skidding back, his attack interrupted.
Gasping for air, Ignarok steadied himself. "That was close… His fusion has boosted both his speed and strength considerably."
Vox shook off the dust from his shoulders, a smug grin on his face. “How long do you think you can keep this up, Ignarok?” He shrugged, as if barely concerned. "Why don’t you get it? You cannot win.”
His expression shifted, eyes narrowing with cruel intent. “I’ve had enough of this little game. It’s time to end you.” He raised his hands, his voice now a menacing growl. “Burning Blood Fumi: Scarlet Sun.”
Ignarok’s eyes followed as Vox lifted his arms, then slammed them down onto the ground. The ground trembled as he pulled blood from within his Torozon, casting an orb of Burning Blood into his palm. The crimson sphere blazed in his grasp, growing darker, more intense with each heartbeat.
Vox turned his body slightly, compressing and channeling the energy in the orb, his hand shaking with the sheer force he wielded. "Prepare yourself, young lord, for this technique is the last you’ll ever see.”
Ignarok stood frozen before the unimaginable power that Vox wielded. Doubt clawed at his resolve. “What can I do against such power?” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “Father, why did you leave such a burden on me… everything that you and our ancestors built will fall.”
As Ignarok wrestled with himself, he felt a familiar, warm hand on his shoulder. “My son,” a gentle, strong voice said, “you are now the lord of this realm. The strength of our ancestors and my own flows within you. Lift your head high, Ignarok. Forge a new path where I could not.”
Lifting his gaze, Ignarok saw faint, shimmering images of his father and his ancestors standing before him, watching him with eyes full of trust and pride. “We are watching, Young Lord. Stand tall.”
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A sparked igniting within him. Ignarok placed one foot forward, gripping his great sword to steady himself as he rose to his full height. “I faltered,” he muttered, his voice firming, “but I vow to never falter again. This is our realm.” His hand tightened into a fist, “Ruler’s Fumi: Eclipse of the Eternal Flame!”
A burst of blue and black flame enveloped his body, his eyes blazing as his power intensified. His great sword glowed like a full moon, radiating an aura of pure, Luner light.
Ignarok shifted his stance, his great sword lined up beside him, ready for the final strike. “With this strike, I call upon the Eternal Flame of my realm. Heed my call I, Lord Ignarok, fourth heir to the throne, summon you!” With the voices of his ancestors “Ruler’s Fumi: Eclipse of the Eternal Flame, Horizon’s Edge!”
In an instant, Ignarok vanished, moving faster than even a thought. Vox barely had time to register the movement before he felt a strange pull forward, his eyes widening in shock as he looked down. “My… leg?” he muttered, confusion mixing with horror. His left leg had been severed, a perfect slice leaving it smoldering on the ground.
But Vox only laughed, his voice twisted with defiance as his leg began to regenerate, muscle and sinew weaving together. “No matter,” he sneered. “If you want to kill me, Ignarok, you’ll need to destroy every cell.”
Ignarok responded swiftly, his voice low and resolute. “Consider it done,” he said, appearing directly in front of Vox. “I’ll show you here and now the difference between a Ruler and a Guardian. I’ll take your attack head-on.”
With his blade at the ready, Ignarok flickered forward, unleashing his technique. “Eclipse of the Eternal Flame, Horizon’s Edge!”
Vox released his own attack, “Scarlet Sun!”
The Eternal Flames met with the Scarlet Sun in a devastating clash, both forces colliding in an eruption of Hindo that splintered the ground beneath them, shattering Vox’s Torozon barrier under the strain. Ignarok’s roar filled the battlefield, his fury unrestrained.
“Vox! You killed my father,” Ignarok shouted, his voice laced with raw vengeance. “That was a mistake!” He poured tenfold of his Hindo into his attack, the intensity igniting a blinding, almost unbearable light. “Disappear from existence, Elder Vox!”
Vox, overwhelmed, felt the madness in him subside for a fleeting moment. As the Eternal Flames engulfed him, his voice softened, the weight of regret slipping through. “Thank you, Young Lord… forgive me…” he whispered, barely audible before the Eternal Flame consumed him entirely, reducing him to ashes.
Ignarok watched in silence, his expression solemn as the battlefield fell quiet once more. He lowered his sword, feeling the Eternal Flames settle within him, their energy gradually cooling.
As the smoke cleared and the sky began to return to its dark, quiet vastness, Ignarok took in the twisted volcanic landscape, once a lush and thriving land, now a field of scorched earth and molten ruin. The sorrow of what had been lost twisted in his chest. He spoke to himself, a solemn vow to the smoldering sky.
“The burden I must bear… I shall take it with pride and rebuild this land, rebuild its people.” His voice was steady, “Upon this Eternal Flame, I vow: I shall not fall until the day this realm is restored.” In that moment, he understood the true depth of his power, the balance of compassion and ruthlessness that would define him as the ruler of Molten Cradle.
Years later, Nuri, the last surviving member of the Burning Hawk Clan, carried the weight of his clan’s cursed legacy. The loss of his mother became an eternal wound, one that would stay with him for the rest of his life. Unlike his ancestors, Nuri grew up in a desolate realm, haunted by whispers of his clan’s tragic fall, holding within him the last pure spark of the Burning Hawk’s flame. That spark was a remnant of the protective fire that had once kept Molten Cradle safe. His life was one of grief and isolation, the weight of his ancestors' actions resting on him as he pieced together the fragments of his heritage.
Ignarok, now king, ruled over a realm that had become a barren wasteland, his people scarred by the devastation they had endured. Though he held resentment for what the Clan of the Burning Hawk had done, he couldn’t deny the kinship he felt with Nuri. It was a bond forged not by blood but by the shared burden of a broken realm. Ignarok held onto a lingering hope that Nuri’s untainted flame might one day restore the Burning Hawk to its former glory, redeeming a legacy that had once brought his people to ruin.