A pillar of fire erupted from the distant barony outskirt grounds, a beast unleashed upon the heavens. It twisted and roared, flames licking at the stars, a violent, otherworldly hunger. The heat from it scorched the very air, searing through him, even from a distance. The flames pulsed, an entity of destruction, a primal, unfathomable force that seemed to shake the heavens themselves.

Wynn stood there, paralyzed, staring up at the inferno, his breath stolen, his mind unravelling in disbelief. This wasn’t fire. Not just fire. This was an apocalypse, a force too vast to understand, too furious to name.

But within the burning chaos, as the flames towered and twisted in monstrous shapes, a single thought seared itself into his mind, cutting through the haze of shock and fear. It was a pull, a whisper in his blood, dark and demanding.

Her. Fiona.

The memory of her silhouette slipping away, her footsteps fading into the shadows, shattered his paralysis.

It was she who had dragged him into this nightmare,

It was she who had torn his life apart and left nothing but ash.

All that grief, pain, and hatred gathered into a singular, consuming purpose, and the flames seemed to roar with him, pushing him forward.

Rage surged with every beat, pumping through his veins, turning his blood to molten fury. He could feel her presence like a thread woven through the chaos, a shadow slipping away through the smoke and ruin.

Fiona was within reach,

And He would pass the Sinner Her Judgement

But before he could close the distance, a figure materialised from the shadows, stepping into his path.

It was an old man, clad in a pristine butler’s uniform, his bearing regal and cold. Silver hair framed his face. The emblem of the Sothis Ducal family gleamed on his lapel

“I have orders to protect the young lady’s maid,” he announced, his voice like ice.

“A filthy unpleasant commoner rat, fresh from the womb like you has no place defying her.” He sneered.

Wynn charged forward, gripping his wooden sword with all his strength.He swung with every ounce of rage he held, but the butler moved with uncanny speed. In an instant, Wynn was struck across the face, the force sending him crashing to the ground.

The butler didn't even need to use mana

“Stay down, mongrel,” the butler said, disgusted.

“Stay down and save me the effort of sullying myself with your putrid smell.”

Wynn’s fury blazed hotter than his battered flesh, refusing to let him fall. He clawed his way back up, his legs shaking, blood spilling from split lips and battered gums. Every fiber of his body screamed in agony, his vision swimming in and out of focus as his world tilted with each staggering step.

But then–=

BAM! BAM! BAM!

Left Right Up Down

The Butler spared no room for mercy, hammering into him with cold precision, each impact a thunderclap of pain.

Yet, even as Wynn was crushed beneath the butler’s fury, some primal force drove him to rise again. His fists clenched, white-knuckled and raw, his spine stiffening as he pushed himself back up

BAM! BAM! BAM!

He was little more than a shattered form, bruised and bloodied beyond recognition, his body nothing but a vessel of pain.

Yet still

He rose, his will unbreakable, defying every shred of mercy his body pleaded for.

The butler, his patience wearing thin, with a flick of his hand, activated his Ember Stage core. A shimmering amber magic circle blazed to life in front of his hand, swirling with raw energy.

In an instant, a fierce green gust of wind emanated, striking Wynn, leaving him rolling battered and broken lying sideways in a pool of blood diluted with grime and sweat.

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The butler took a step back, regarding Wynn with disdain. “Pathetic,” he muttered, before turning his back. “Such fine resilience wasted on something so defected.”

Just then, the air crackled.

A figure stepped forward, draped in a billowing white cloak that rippled in the air, Their face was hidden behind an eerie blue whale mask, its glowing blue eyes hollow and inscrutable with spiralling currents of water twisting around its torso.

In one small, gloved hand, they held a dark blue greatsword—its massive, gleaming blade a striking contrast to their tiny child-like stature.

“Viscount Henderson,”

She raised her voice,

“Butler of the Sothis Ducal family. Your crimes include murder, torture, and experimentation on commoner subjects.”

She gripped her greatsword with both hands.

“Tonight, you answer for your sins.”

The butler’s gaze narrowed, “And who are you?”

His Ember-stage core flared to life.

A fierce green gale tore through the alley, lifting dust and shards of stone, spiralling around him protectively.

But the masked figure stood firm, the torrents of water swirling faster in response, crashing into the butler’s winds. Their greatsword began to glint blue as mana wrapped around it, their core at the forge stage.

Viscount Henderson made the first move, 5 mana circles simultaneously woven mid air aimed at the masked figure, each summoning a green mana arrow, which shot forward towards the masked figure-whale.

As they approached, Whale swung her greatsword in a wide arc tearing through all 5 arrows simultaneously, then proceeded to dash towards the viscount, bringing her sword down vertically with the water attributed mana lashing out towards him.

The viscount made a quick side step, and summoned another circle, this time forming a dense green wind barrier, for protection whilst summoning another gust of wind to deflect the trajectory of the greatsword.

The greatsword scraped against the dense wind barrier, sparks of mana crackling as Whale forced it downward, testing the strength of the Viscount's defences. But Henderson was quick—he twisted his fingers, and a second circle appeared behind Whale, releasing a burst of wind that pushed her off-balance. She staggered, but kept her grip firm on the hilt of her sword, sliding back just slightly before steadying herself.

Seeing his chance, Henderson cast another series of wind-enhanced arrows, each one spinning like a miniature drill. Whale gripped her sword with both hands, spinning it in a defensive arc that slashed through the arrows mid-air. The remnants of wind mana dissipated, leaving only traces of green light.

The Viscount’s eyes narrowed, and he lifted his hand, summoning another circle above his head. This time, a spiralling vortex of wind began to form, gaining momentum as it grew. The air around him turned razor-sharp, the swirling gale distorting the surroundings as it lashed out toward Whale.

Whale planted her feet, summoning water mana to flow over her sword. With a powerful swing, she launched a wave of water against the approaching vortex. The two forces clashed in a violent collision, wind tearing through water, the water slicing through gusts. The sound of the impact echoed through the space, but neither force overpowered the other—both cancelled out in an explosive burst of mist and wind.

Henderson smirked and took a step back, casting a quick glance to prepare his next spell, but Whale didn’t let up. She dashed forward, closing the distance between them. Henderson barely had a moment to react as her greatsword came down in a deadly arc, slicing through the air with immense force.

At the last second, he summoned a gust beneath his feet, propelling himself into a quick backward flip to avoid the blow. As he landed, he raised his hand, and a concentrated blade of wind shot forward, aimed directly at Whale's exposed flank.

She twisted her torso, dodging the wind blade by mere inches, and in a single fluid motion, she unleashed a powerful slash that sent a torrent of water shooting toward him. The Viscount’s barrier absorbed part of the impact, but the sheer force cracked through it, forcing him to shield his face as droplets sprayed around him.

They had reached a stalemate.

***********

[WYNN}

I don’t know how long I’ve been lying here. Around me, there’s nothing but chaos—shouting, clashing, the screams of people being torn apart. Rebels are battling the soldiers, caught in a desperate fight against the nobles’ guards, who are butchering every commoner they see without as much as a glance. They don’t even care who’s fighting or who’s innocent. It’s all just blood and smoke and death.

But I don't care

Every breath burns, every inch of me aches.

I’m weak. Weak and small and pathetic. I thought I could do something, that somehow, maybe this time I’d be enough to make a difference.

But I couldn’t even save Mom.

I couldn't even save myself.

Kai would never be like this.I can practically see him, standing tall, that stupid shining sun-like hair, not a single scratch on him, with his crappy spear tricks like he’s someone untouchable. He wouldn’t just protect Maris. He’d protect everyone, without anyone having to…

Having to die.

I wonder whether he and Liora got to safety.

No

I take that back

I'm sure Kai kept her safe.

And I bet he’s stronger than he lets on. Just like these people, the ones with the mana I’ve seen on Lioras TV. I'm certain, Kai’s also an awakened.

And maybe that’s why Liora loves him. She sees him as a hero.

And then there’s me: lying here, beaten down, blood in my mouth, barely able to breathe.

She’ll never look at me that way,

Because what am I?

Just someone to pity.

I can’t even be angry at her. Why would she ever choose someone like me?

I close my eyes, letting the shame sink deeper. The shame of how worthless I am.

But then, in the darkness, there’s a sound

A dull, lifeless thud that drags me back to reality. I open my eyes, struggling to focus, and I see it.

Taran’s severed head

A scream lodges in my throat.

No. Not Taran. He didn’t deserve this.

I can almost hear him now, teasing me, laughing about how he’d be my biggest fan the day I became a Sword Saint.

That he’d be there when I did something worth cheering for. And now… now he’s gone, lying there with that horrible stillness, his head torn from his body.

You liar. You damn bloody liar.

Why am I so weak?

I close my eyes, I can’t breathe. I don’t want to breathe.

The fire inside me surges, building with every heartbeat, every breath. It claws its way up, out of control, breaking past every limit I’ve ever known. My body trembles as it erupts, a violent, searing force that consumes everything else—the pain, the shame, the self-loathing—all of it burns away. A single thought consumes me,

I wish I was strong

Then—

A scarlet-black flame bursts from deep within me,

flooding the air with heat and fury.

My muscles lock, the ground beneath me quaking, cracks spreading outward. The flames wrap around me, fierce and untamed, but they don’t hurt. They feel right. Like they belong.

My eyes snap open, and I feel it. A new power, raw and primal, coursing through my veins.

A core. I've awakened mana

I get up, the flames still swirling around me

I will not fail, Not Again.