“Evacuate the people,” Man ordered sharply, her voice leaving no room for debate. Tristan and Yvolt exged a g obeyed without hesitation, darting off as Man sprioward Burn.
Without breaking stride, a of radiant light materialized around the bck portal, its glow slig through the oppressive darkness. She reached Burn, her voice cutting through the chaos like a bde: “Pull!”
Burn didn’t hesitate. Whatever reckless impulse had driven him to reato the portal—somethiirely out of character for him—was now repced by calcuted determination. The risks were massive, but the potential gain outweighed them.
With every ounce of his Force, he pulled, eling his power to ter the corruption surging through the portal.
But, of course, corruption never pyed fair. The darkness spread into him, seeping through his veins like poison. He gritted his teeth, his iron will refusing to falter even as the man behind the portal recovered from his initial shock.
The tug of war that followed was vicious and uing, a battle of strength and will locked in perfect bance.
Then—
SLASH!
Burn staggered backward, almost losing his footing. His arm was gone, severed ly at the shoulder, and the dark voice within the portal erupted in ughter, full of amusement and disbelief.
“Pffff—HAHAHAHAH!”
Burn’s jaw ched, his fury barely tained.
“Not yet. Not today,” the voice growled through gritted teeth.
With his remaining hand, he reached fain, i ing the figure to the surface, arm or no arm. But before he could make tact, the portal vanished, leaving nothing but silend a deep, simmering rage in its wake.
Except... his severed arm remained oher side.
Still gripping the colr of the man from the portal, the dismembered limb seemed almost defiant. The dark figure was about to pry it away when he felt it—an overwhelmi, as if a thousand suns had ignited in his palm.
BLAAAAAAAAAAAST!!!
The explosion ripped through the void with uing fury, a shockwave of seari and blinding light that turhe surrounding spato a swirling vortex of destru.
The dark figure staggered, shielding his shifting visage with a tendril-like arm of bck mana. The sheer force of the bst drove him back, his form flickering violently as he fought to maintain cohesion.
It wasn’t the fire itself that got under his skin—it wasn’t like his twisted form hadn’t endured pain before. No, it was the sheer audacity of the situation. Being bsted by a severed arm? An arm?! The indignity of it burned hotter than the explosion itself.
He hissed in fury, molten bck ichor dripping from the charred, cracked edges of his form. His entire being radiated an unstable energy, struggling to reabsorb the corrupted mana he’d been forced to sacrifi defense.
The air was thick with suffog heat and crag remnants of the bst, the very fabric of the void trembling us residual force.
The explosion wasn’t just devastating—it was absurdly overpowered. That severed arm wasn’t a mere appe was ced with the densed heat energy of a dying sun. Even now, his body screamed uhe strain of tering it.
That man. What was he made of? aterial that could cleave through gods? The figure’s thoughts ed as suspi took root. Probably cutting off an arm of a god wouldn’t cost him this much.
Had Bur his arm be severed deliberately? Was this some cruel ploy? The figure shuddered at the realization that he might have been outpyed. If he hadn’t guarded himself with everything—every ounce of corrupted mana he could muster—he would’ve lost far more than he cared to imagine.
“That damned son of a bitch,” he muttered, his voice dripping with venom and something b on begrudging respect. “Even dismembered, he’s an obnoxious thorn.”
The bst had left him exposed, his surroundings in plete ruin. Smoke rose in tendrils from the scorched remnants of the void, an acrid stench g at assed for his nostrils. The corruption that had once flowed like a liviy now felt hollow, weak—an insult to his power.
As he adjusted himself, his flickering form finally stabilizing, his glowing eyes narrowed with fury barely restraihe humiliation lingered, festering alongside his anger. “ime,” he hissed, voice like grinding stone, “I’ll make sure there’s nothi of him to explode.”
***
Tristan and Yvolt stood in stunned sileheir earlier determination to evacuate the civilians now feeling almost… redundant. The threat had retreated, metaphorical tail firmly tucked between its legs.
They’d half-expected Burn t the demon out of the abyss. Instead, Burn had his own reasons to let him slip away—or so it seemed.
“That didn’t kill him,” Burn said ftly, his voice ced with frustration as he ied the corrupted parts of his body with cold prean, beside him, worked frantically to purify the lingering traces of thick bck mana, her usually serene demeanor repced with tense focus.
It wasn’t the first time Burn had taken a risk like this, and Tristan and Yvolt k wouldn’t be the st. Just as the demon lambled an equivalent of a ti’s worth of corruption to trap Man in a mind prison, Burn had gambled his own body to try and drag his eo the surface—or, at the very least, leave a parting gift with his severed arm.
To nd even one decisive blow.
“Kiss me,” Man said abruptly, her tone devoid of tenderness and calm, repced with something darker, heavier.
Burn paused, his gaze meeting hers. He didn’t o ask why. He knew. She khis recklessness wasn’t like him. He wasn’t oo lose his cool and pull stunts like this—except when it came to her. He held a great grudge after the st loop.
He leaned down, lips meeting hers, the purest form of mana radiating from her soul flooding into him. Slowly, the corruption burning through his veins began to dissipate, the divine energy purifying what remained.
As the corruption faded, his arm began tee, f anew from the light a energy he had once amassed from the White Dwarf.
Man, however, was clearly not satisfied. Her hands glowed with relentless divine energy, and the look in her eyes was dht zealous. If she could, she’d dunk him into a tub of holy water and scrub him with her soul until not even a speck of corruption dared remain.
And Burn, ever the picture of posure, savored the moment in sile wasn’t every day you were kissed back to health by a goddess in all but name.
“I’m fine now. Let’s this up,” Burn pulled away, arm restored. He turo the pair of Round Table Knights standing behind them, “Let’s return and che you first.”
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After this update, we're entering another climax. I'd finish this volume around 110 - 120, idk ma me cook. Already saying this on discord, but will say it here too that we're going to get to one important part of Burn's past beyond his father's death. It be said that this volume will to the story of his in as a 'vilin'.
Pumped up!
