Sugar approached the control switch levitating close to the front wall, and after she poked one of the buttons on its top, a door-cut seam appeared—the previously hidden door of the elevator. It projected a few inches inward and buoyed up, revealing the doorway. Beyond it, a couple stood facing each other, looking their way for a brief moment before continuing their discussion.

  Meanwhile, as the two well-dressed women stood and approached the doorway to leave, the man also stood up. However, instead of exiting, he walked toward Sugar and stopped beside her, maintaining a deferential mien. Then Masa Ed and the group, led by Snow, walked past him and Sugar, and exited the elevator. The door glided down and lodged back into the doorway, after which the seams on the golden pillar in front of which Masa Ed and the group stood disappeared, leaving no sign of an opening.

  Leaning against the golden pillar—paired with another, both forming the entrance to a golden passageway—Masa Ed began to look around. They were inside a somewhat large crowd-filled space: a flame lit, wide area enclosed by a round brick wall, with a smooth golden wall on the other side, enclosing a center space, where the golden passageway led.

  “There are a lot of people here,” Masa Ed muttered.

  Indeed, a great number of people were packed into the two-hundred-meter annular space between the encircling brick wall and the smooth golden wall. From what he could see, some stood in groups, conversing in low voices; others were alone, leaning against walls or sitting on the floor. Most notably, not far from him, he spotted a gathering of preteens and teenagers, all wearing black cloaks. Among them, he recognized a couple of familiar faces—the teenage-looking adults from Queen Dawn.

  [“Master, they are spectators and staff on duty. This place is a waiting area, and inside is the Flame Altar,”] Snow transmitted astrally to Masa Ed as she came to stand beside him. [“Master, the young ones in cloaks are the ones being baptized. Actually, this is a swearing event, but because—”]

  *Gijo Yasri.*

  A loud, audible voice echoed throughout the space, interrupting Snow. At the same time, one of the cloaked youths stepped forward and walked along the golden walkway towards the Flame Altar entrance, which was is a gap in the thirty-three-meter-tall golden wall that encircled the altar. Another young one exited it shortly after and walked past him with a downcast expression—something that did not escape the eyes of several onlookers, including Masa Ed.

  “Master, his potential must have been average,” Snow whispered.

  Masa Ed chuckled. Measuring potential? Maybe I’m the weird one, he concluded.

  Once more, his gaze focused on the entrance of the Flame Altar. Yet again, what he saw was only a fog-filled space—he couldn’t see what was happening inside, not the boy that just ran inside.

  “Master, you shouldn’t be able to see inside, but if you use spiritual vision, you should be able to see the flames when they emerge,” Snow explained.

  As if suddenly reminded of something, Masa Ed raised his head to behold the inner heaven of the tower floor they were on. It was an overcast gray sky, except for a corresponding section directly above the Flame Altar that looked like a hole in the heavens.

  Following the line of sight of the sky that aligned with the entrance, Masa Ed centered his vision on a gigantic, motionless cloaked figure peering down from the inner edge of a hole that is like it pierced through the sky— gazing at the center of the Flame Altar below. Its legs were like the grey clouds swallowed it—an existence that made him frown deeply.

  This thing kind of annoys me, he noted, then looked away.

  In the next moment, he heard a voice like a whisper close to his ear.

  [“Master, look. His flame is impressive,”] Snow transmitted.

  Following her instruction, he looked through the wide opening of the Flame Altar—its entrance as broad as the golden walkway leading to it—and switched to inner vision. The world re-rendered itself—everything darkened, except for a towering golden flame about thirty meters high at the altar’s center. Around it were inverted silhouettes of people with bowed heads, standing in three ascending rings that there center was the flame, with two figures standing before the flame itself.

  I guess those guys are involved, Masa Ed concluded, focusing on the inverted silhouettes. And why is the flame golden? Shouldn’t everything be achromatic?

  Stolen novel; please report.

  “Rayo, do you think it’s the nature of the flame?” Plum whispered.

  Masa Ed turned to look at her. “You think so too?” he asked, smiling.

  “Yes,” she replied, nodding. She glanced at him again, smiled briefly, then quickly looked away and clasped his hand. “I think it has to do with the will behind the flame.”

  “Hm.” Masa Ed sighed, pondering the depth of Plum’s deduction.

  Meanwhile, Sera moved closer and positioned herself directly in front of him, facing the Flame Altar entrance he was staring at blankly.

  A few seconds later, the young boy who had entered returned, his head held high and a blooming smile on his face. The crowd noticed, and as he rejoined his peers, the loud voice echoed once more.

  *Sera White.* it called out.

  Masa Ed snapped back to attention and watched as Sera stepped away from him, walked toward the Flame Altar entrance, and entered it amid the stares of the crowd—some surprised, though most were the cloaked youths.

  He immediately switched back to inner vision, focusing entirely on the Flame Altar. The spiritual world appeared achromatic once more, showing what he had seen earlier—except that where the golden flame was previously is an inverted silhouette he was certain depicted Sera’s spirit. As he focused on it, he noticed something wrong with its edges, unlike anything he had seen regarding a living person spirit since fully unlocking spiritual vision.

  Her spirit is strange. It’s like she’s possessed and not possessed. So strange, he observed, frowning deeply.

  Moments later, her silhouette was replaced by a golden flame—thirty-six meters tall. Ignoring the gasps and uproar from the astonished crowd, Masa Ed focused on the flame’s center, which rapidly flickered between dark red and crimson.

  What’s with the changing color? he wondered.

  Plum muttered beside him, “Sister Sera is impressive. She’s broken a record.”

  “Oooh,” he responded, fascinated. He tried estimating the flame’s height. Well, I can’t tell, he concluded, giving up.

  Switching back to normal vision, he saw the Flame Altar entrance once more and the fog hiding what's beyond it. Exhaling, he yawned and covered his mouth, then firmly clasped Plum’s hand that has been holding his other hand lightly. He glanced around at the excited crowd, most of whom had broken into groups and were conversing in low voices.

  Turning toward the gathering of preteens and teens, he singled out a group of four—two of whom were the teenage-looking adults he had seen on Queen Dawn. After briefly scanning them, chuckling at the pride written on their faces, he sensed Sera approaching. He turned just as she came toward them with her usual expressionless visage that hides a subtle savage ferocity, unbothered by the awed stares and glances of the crowd.

  The loud voice echoed again.

  *Plum Maja.* it called out.

  Masa Ed released Plum’s hand as she left his side. As she walked past Sera along the golden path, he watched her retreating figure, specifically her bear backpack with fascination until she entered the Flame Altar and was swallowed by the fog.

  He turned to Sera, who now stood quietly by his side in Plum’s place. Fascinated by her flawless caramel skin, he lightly pinched her cheek. She promptly stamped on his bare foot, making him wince and whisper-shout, “Ouch!”

  Regaining his composure, he reached for her hand, but as soon as he touched it, Sera withdrew and folded both of her hands.

  “You are a stingy cat,” he muttered loudly enough for her to hear.

  She didn’t respond.

  He moved on.

  Switching briefly to spirit vision, he saw a golden flame about thirty meters tall at the center of the Flame Altar. Chuckling, he returned to normal vision and turned toward Snow.

  “What exactly is her flame height?” he asked.

  Snow met his gaze, staring into his eyes with her icy purple ones. “Master, it’s exactly thirty meters,” she replied.

  He nodded and faced forward again, zoning out until Plum emerged from the Flame Altar and walked toward them, unnoticed by the crowd.

  Then the loud voice echoed once more.

  *Black King.* it called out.

  A sudden, deafening silence followed. Heads turned in all directions—some craning, some tilting, all searching.

  “Seriously?!” Masa Ed exclaimed, breaking the silence. He stepped forward and approached the Flame Altar amid the pricking stares of the crowd, seemingly unbothered.

  Maintaining a leisurely pace, he entered the foggy Flame Altar, which revealed itself to be a round enclosure. At its perimeter stood a three-tiered ring platform, upon which many cloaked figures holding golden lanterns stood. At the center, two more cloaked figures stood before a thirty-three-meter-wide glowing golden circle, isolated by fog that blanketed the entire floor—including the tiered platform.

  Stopping near the two figures at the edge of the glowing center, Masa Ed maintained a nonchalant expression. Moments later, the voice—now softer—reached him.

  *Please come to the center, Mr. Black.*

  He complied, walking between the two cloaked figures and stopping at the heart of the glowing circle. He looked around the solemn, unnaturally quiet Flame Altar, realizing that the lanterns, the glowing center, and faint light from above were the sole sources of illumination—unlike the waiting area, which was lined with cressets along its walls.

  Curious, he raised his head and saw the opening in the sky of the inner heaven which is directly above the Flame Altar. On both the left and right inner edges of its mouth stood two more gigantic, motionless cloaked figures, their legs seemingly swallowed by the clouds as they peered down at him—just like the one behind him. The three were evenly spaced.

  These guys kind of annoy me, he concluded.

  As he turned to look back at the third figure, the voice reached him again.

  *Mr. Black, please recite your oath,* it instructed softly.

  He glanced between the two cloaked figures before him, confusion evident on his face.

  “What oath?” he uttered; however in the next instant, he was completely engulfed in flames—taking him entirely by surprise.