2025-08-16 19:18:49After Blaze finished his meal, he lied down to gaze at the night sky through the opening of the cave. He was basking in the massively large moon up in the sky.
"Wow," Blaze whispered, awe coloring his voice as he marveled at the spectacle before him. "I've never seen anything like it."
Suddenly, another celestial body emerged. It was a smaller red moon on the distant horizon. Blaze couldn't help but develop a feeling of uneasiness.
" What's that? An illusion?" he murmurs, his voice tinged with apprehension.
Unlike its larger counterpart, which bears a resemblance to the moon of Earth albeit magnified in scale, the smaller red moon didn't sit well with Blaze.
Each time a dark red spot materializes upon its surface, he felt his body growing weaker.
"Something's not right," he mutters, his brows furrowing in concern.
Blaze's suspicions were confirmed after he surveyed the cave.
The once lively group of orphans were on their knees wincing in pain and crying out loud.
Blaze gasped as he realized the gravity of their situation.
"This is no illusion, The Dark spots, their draining our strength!" Their collective vitality was being drained by the dark red spot on the smaller moon.
The anguished cries of the children echoes through the cave as moans of discomfort fill the air.
With each passing moment, Blaze felt his strength wane even further.
"I have to resist it, I have to find a way to fight back," Blaze muttered through gritted teeth, determination burning bright within him.
As Blaze struggled against the suffocating grip of weakness that overwhelm him, a sudden burst of flames erupted, engulfing the entire Clan in a fiery embrace.
The searing heat washed over him like a cleansing wave, banishing the oppressive weight of fatigue that had dragged him down moments before.
"What... what just happened?" Blaze gasped, his voice tinged with disbelief as he staggered to his feet, renewed vigor coursing through his veins.
"Is this the power of the Stigma? I've seen glimpses of it from the vessel's memories. The pain, It's soothing our pain and restoring our strength. It's... Remarkable."
As he glanced around at his fellow orphans, Blaze could see the relief in their eyes.
"Everyone's alright... That was close."
Blaze recalled another memory - During the middle ten days of the month, when the Bloody Marks appear, even the mightiest Stigma warriors find themselves losing strength.
This makes it difficult for Stigma Warriors to fight beasts of a level cap that they would normally be able to beat.
"So that's why most Stigma Warriors come back to the Clan after sunset?" Blaze muttered as he plops to the floor from the exahsution of having his strength sapped.
He quickly fell asleep. The next morning, Blaze woke up to his fellow orphans gently nudging him—a boy and a girl used to the tough life in the Clan. Blaze groaned as he got up from his makeshift bed, feeling tired as he got ready for another hard day.
"Blaze, wake up! It's time," urges the boy, his voice tinged with excitement. "We've got work to do."
With a groan, Blaze pushes himself upright, shaking off the last vestiges of sleep as he prepares to face the day ahead.
"I'm up."
Beside him, the orphan girl offers a reassuring smile, her presence a comforting anchor amidst the uncertainty of their circumstances.
Together, the trio makes their way to the Hunting Logistics Yard, where they are met by the bustling activity of fellow hunters preparing for the day's expedition.
"Weapons, cleaning tools, and everything in between," remarks Blaze, surveying the array of equipment laid out before them. "Looks like we've got our work cut out for us."
At the Clan's gates, three groups of Stigma Warriors were gathered, each set to embark on rhe hunting trip. Blaze joined his assigned group as he follows them from behind.
"Thankfully, my vessel has a decent experience with the hunting logistics," Blaze remarked, as he gazes at the back of the other Stigma Warriors.
"Gotta keep up with them if I want to make it through this."
Blaze could sense the pace of the Stigma Warriors slowing, their movements deliberate as they maintained order within the hunting group.
"Stay close, everyone," one of the warriors called out, his voice carrying a note of caution. "Nobody's going to save you if you're not with the group."
Blaze was aware of the harsh reality of the wilderness.
"Being left behind meant facing the unforgiving elements alone, a fate that few could hope to survive."
In this strange world, Blaze knew the danger lurking in the wild.
"Unlike Earth, where nature's more controlled, here, danger's everywhere. Staying with the group is the safest bet for survival," he thought.
This was especially true for those not part of the elite Stigma Warriors.
At first, he was amazed by the incredible sights—huge trees, fruits like baby elephants, and mosquitoes as big as chickens.
"Wow," Blaze breathed, his eyes wide with amazement as he took in the surreal landscape around him. "I've never seen anything like this before."
But as the hours stretched on and the weight of his burdens grew heavier with each passing step, Blaze's enthusiasm waned, replaced by a growing sense of fatigue and discomfort.
His legs ached with every stride, swollen and sore from the exertion of carrying his assortment of tools, while his shoulders screamed in protest under the weight of his responsibilities.
"I don't know how much longer I can keep this up," Blaze muttered under his breath, his voice strained with exhaustion as he struggled to maintain his pace.
However, despite his best efforts to press forward, Blaze found himself lagging behind, his energy waning with each passing moment.
"I can't... I can't keep going."
Suddenly, The Nine-headed Dragon mark on his left hand began to glow.
"What's happening?" Blaze exclaimed holding out the hand.
Suddenly, a faint golden and red Stigma Energy engulfed him.
"My stamina..."
Blaze felt a surge of energy coursing through his body.
"Did the strang tattoo did this?" Blaze shook his head, "I'll worry about that later, now is my chance to catch up to the others."
Blaze grinned as he took a sprinting position, he leapt forward with a massive burst moving at incredible speeds.
"This is awesome!"
Previous Chapter
Latest Chapter
Embers of the Fallen
The silence after the collapse was worse than the roar.It stretched on, heavy, aching, endless. Only the distant crumble of stone broke it, echoing like a dying heartbeat through the fractured vaults of Lundar.Blaze sat against the cold wall, his breath ragged. Dust and ash clung to his skin, sweat streaking through the soot. Every muscle screamed. Every pulse of his heart throbbed against the Stigma’s mark, flickering between molten gold and dying red.He could still hear Hydra’s last words—Forgive me, Regal… the fire was never meant to be yours.They repeated in his mind, again and again, like a curse that refused to fade.Grim crouched nearby, binding a gash along his arm, his face set in grim silence. Valor paced back and forth, armor dented, eyes burning with restless fury. Keith lay unconscious on a cot of scavenged cloth, his breathing shallow, his fingers twitching with the faint pulse of residual magic.The air reeked of scorched stone and iron. The heat still radiated from
The Serpent and the Silence
The first tremor hit just before dawn.It was faint at first, a low, pulsing vibration that rippled through the stone foundations of the guild keep. But within moments, the quiet tremor deepened into a growl. Chandeliers swayed. Maps fluttered from their pegs. Soldiers jolted awake, reaching for weapons before they even knew why.In the tower’s highest chamber, Grim’s eyes snapped open.The old general had been half asleep at his desk, a cup of untouched wine beside scattered reports. He froze, listening. The rumble was coming from below — far below. Not from the streets or outer walls, but the roots of the city itself.He was on his feet before the second tremor hit.A single streak of red light flashed through the window — faint, but wrong. It wasn’t fire. It wasn’t aura. It was something older.“Hydra.” Grim’s voice was a growl.The great serpent materialized before him in a ripple of golden mist, his eyes burning like miniature suns. The air seemed to bow beneath his presence.“Yo
Echoes Beneath the Flame
The rain had stopped hours ago, but the city still smelled of it—iron, smoke, and wet stone. In the high wards, torchlight shimmered faintly across puddles, casting golden veins through the darkness. Somewhere distant, a bell tolled once, hollow and cold.Most of Lundar slept uneasily that night. Some prayed. Others sharpened their blades in silence. All waited for dawn that might not come.But Blaze didn’t wait for dawn.He walked alone through the lower corridors of the keep, his steps echoing faintly against walls blackened by fire. His aura flickered around him in a dim glow, faint enough not to draw attention, bright enough to chase away the dark.The mark beneath his skin pulsed again—slow, deep, like a heartbeat that wasn’t his own. It tugged him downward. Toward the tunnels. Toward something ancient that whispered his name in a voice that didn’t belong to anyone living.He’d told no one where he was going. Grim would’ve called it reckless. Valor would’ve insisted on sending gu
The Fire Beneath the Throne
The ruins of the archives still smoked when the council gathered again.The flames had been extinguished, but the air reeked of burned parchment and charred stone. Every step through the lower halls crunched on shards of glass and fragments of what once held the kingdom’s history. Now it was all ash—pages, records, seals—everything that tethered truth to fact, gone.Hydra’s spectral coils filled the chamber, his golden eyes reflecting off the soot-stained walls like molten suns. The serpent god’s patience, usually calm and ancient, was frayed. Valor stood nearby, armor scorched, his hands balled into fists. Grim leaned against a collapsed pillar, his expression sharp as broken glass.Around them, the other council members had gathered—envoys, generals, and emissaries from the allied clans. Their voices collided like storm winds.“This is an act of war!” one shouted.“War? It’s treason!” another spat. “Someone from inside gave them access!”“They used our own seals!”“They were disguis
The Siege Within
The dawn came late to Lundar.A gray light seeped through the cracks of smoke that still veiled the city, spilling over rooftops and broken towers like a tired sigh. The storm had passed, but peace did not follow. There was something unnatural in the silence—a watchful tension that clung to the air. The people moved through the streets quietly, speaking in hushed tones, as if afraid the ruins themselves might be listening.Inside the guild keep, the council’s halls were far from calm. Patrols doubled their rounds. Every corridor shimmered faintly with wards etched overnight by trembling mages. The smell of iron and incense filled the air, an uneasy marriage of ritual and readiness.No one trusted anyone completely—not after the whispers, not after the assassins.Blaze hadn’t slept. He stood at the eastern parapet, eyes fixed on the horizon where the faint outlines of the Ebon Sovereignty’s warships lingered like shadows. They hadn’t attacked again. Not yet. But that was the trick of i
The Tower of Smoke
The first blast ripped through the sleeping city like thunder.Stone dust filled the corridors as Blaze sprinted through the inner keep, the sound of alarms echoing from every direction. Flames licked at the far end of the passage, painting the walls red. Valor ran beside him, armor half-buckled, his greatsword already drawn. Grim followed close, two knives glinting in each hand.“The envoy tower!” Valor shouted over the roar. “They’ve hit the second level!”Blaze didn’t answer. The floor trembled beneath their boots. Another explosion boomed above them, scattering fragments of glass and banners. Shouts rose from the courtyards—orders, panic, the clash of steel.They burst through the archway leading into the outer court. The air was thick with ash and rain. The envoy tower loomed ahead, one side wreathed in smoke, its upper balconies aflame. Guards swarmed the base, forming fire lines while mages tried to raise wards against the spreading fire.Hydra’s colossal form coiled above the
You may also like
The Trinjule Sword of Heaven
Storian writer12.6K viewsDemons Battle
Princez15.7K viewsHarem Ethics 101
Z.R. Wake55.5K viewsThe Master of Fate
Young Master Jay22.6K viewsTenth author's journal 2: Mikhail
Wilhelm Duy1.6K viewsDepartment of unintentional Heroics
Oluwabiyi Raymond454 viewsJin Mu: THUNDER UNLEASHED
Mide32 viewsDemon's blood
rain3.0K views