Seeing Her crying, Yoren understood everything.
The Fire Demon Project had begun in secret without his knowledge. Her had been confident in its success, but sothing had gone terribly wrong.
The project was completely out of control.
The mont disaster struck, Saria had pulled Her out of the underground lab. Other staff mbers managed to escape as well.
But Ifrit was still inside.
The raging inferno consuming everything was caused by the Fire Demon Stone—now fused with her.
"Ifrit! Ah!"
Her's cries were heartbreaking. Yoren didn't know if Ifrit was still alive, but the sheer grief on Her's face sent a chill through his heart.
Just as he was about to ask Saria what had happened, another wail—louder, more hysterical—echoed from nearby.
"Wow, wow, wow! All my Mibos are dead! Ahh! Give my Mibos back to !"
lantha sat on the ground, sobbing, snot running down her face.
"I can't even recycle them this ti! Woooo, Mibo, ah!"
She wept bitterly, but Yoren didn't have the patience to console her.
He turned toward Her and the others.
Her was too overwheld to speak. Yoren could only look to Saria, his voice sharp with urgency.
"Saria, what happened?"
She lowered her head. "The Fire Demon Project failed."
"What?"
"I don't know the exact cause. When I arrived, the high-temperature containnt unit was already breaking apart. I only had ti to get Her out."
"And Ifrit?"
Her dropped to her knees, murmuring over and over. "It's all my fault... it's all my fault... it's all my fault..."
Saria's voice cracked as she finally snapped at her. "Stop crying! It was your fault to begin with—what good is crying now?!"
Yoren turned toward the fire raging in the distance, thoughts racing.
Now wasn't the ti for bla. No one had wanted this outco. The experint had been Her's project, but she was suffering more than anyone else here.
What mattered now was one thing: Ifrit.
He crouched before Her, voice low but firm. "Is she still alive?"
Her's sobs only grew louder.
At that mont, a Filin woman in a white coat stepped forward hesitantly.
"I... I am Dr. Her's assistant. I participated in the experint."
Yoren grabbed her shoulders, his grip tight. "Tell . Is Ifrit alive?"
"Subject No. 019... she should still be alive."
Yoren and Saria both straightened, a flicker of hope sparking in their eyes.
"Explain."
The assistant nodded, steadying herself. Unlike the others, she was still thinking clearly.
"The fusion between No. 019 and the Fire Demon Stone appears to be complete. We knew her power would increase drastically, so we designed a containnt chamber that could theoretically isolate all flas. But we underestimated her strength after fusion. She had no way to control it."
"So what?"
"No. 019's power is fueled by the Originium prepared in advance. Because of her natural affinity with fire, she shouldn't be hard while she's at the core of the blaze. But... according to our calculations, if she can't suppress the power before her Originium supply runs out, her body will burn as fuel."
Yoren clenched his jaw. "If you'd said that earlier, I would've thought we had no hope."
The assistant's voice was cold. "No, you don't understand. We really don't have hope."
"What?"
She looked toward the inferno. "This isn't normal fire. It doesn't just burn—it disintegrates. No. 019 has lost control. To stop the process, we would need to forcibly sever her nervous system, halt her blood flow, and put her organs into hibernation."
Yoren's eyes widened. That sounded eerily familiar.
The drug Vina had used on him—it had the sa effect.
The assistant continued, "We have the drug, but no one can reach No. 019. No one can get within a hundred ters of her. This fire is beyond anything we've seen. Our existing protective asures are useless. The probability of rescue is zero. We have to accept that."
Yoren wanted to argue, but he had no rebuttal. She was right. Even if Ifrit was still alive, no one could reach her.
He knew this wasn't just fire.
This was the wrath of the Fire Giant—"Iftli."
No human could withstand it. Not even Saria.
His gaze flicked to his bracelet.
[Next cycle countdown: 19 days.]
The Black and White Twins' second cycle had only lasted until day 11. Even if he unleashed the Black Power now and forced his way in, he likely wouldn't make it out alive.
Just then, several massive transport trucks rumbled into view, stopping in front of them.
Dozens of heavily ard personnel stepped out—at least a hundred in total, all wearing full protective gear.
Yoren frowned. "Who are they?"
Saria's voice was barely above a whisper. "Rhine Life's Special Incident Response Team."
The alarm had only sounded twenty minutes ago. They must have been prepared in advance.
A middle-aged man in a pristine white suit strode through the crowd, his gold-rimd glasses glinting under the firelight. His expression was unreadable.
He stopped before Her, sighing as he gazed at the burning base.
"The Fire Demon Project was rushed. Now, not only have we lost the subject, but the entire facility as well."
Yoren leaned toward Saileach and muttered, "Who is this guy?"
"Eber. One of Rhine Life's founders. Her's direct superior."
Eber clasped his hands behind his back. "Her, do you have anything to say for yourself?"
Her was too shattered to respond. She knelt, unresponsive.
Eber scoffed. "Now that the experint has failed, are those tears for the subject? Or for the colossal damage you've caused? Shouldn't you feel guiltier about the resources lost?"
He turned away. "Her, I suspect you were never truly dedicated to this project. I am deeply disappointed in you."
The weight of his authority hung heavy over everyone.
Everyone but one.
Yoren.
A sharp crack rang out.
Yoren's slap shattered Eber's glasses, knocking two of his teeth to the ground.
Eber staggered, clutching his bleeding mouth. "You dare—"
Yoren seized his collar, yanking him forward.
His voice was ice. "You, a man who hides behind a desk, dare to judge her?"
Eber's eyes widened. "Who... who are you?!"
Yoren's left hand swirled with black energy, his rage boiling over. "An experintal subject, just like the one you threw away."
"What?!"
Yoren's voice dropped to a growl. "Say one more word, and I'll throw you into that fire myself."
His eyes, veined with eerie black streaks, locked onto Eber's in a deadly stare.
He understood Her's pain better than anyone. Ifrit wasn't just a subject to her. She was her everything. Success had been her only way to save her.
Yoren wouldn't let anyone trample on that.
Saria stepped between them, gripping his arm. "Let go, Yoren. I get it, but this isn't the way. Let go."
For her sake, Yoren released Eber, shoving him away.
Then, he turned to the assistant. "Do you have the injection?"
"Y-yes, but—"
"Give it to ."
Everyone froze.
Her's tear-streaked face lifted, eyes wide. "What... what are you going to do?"
The flas roared.
Yoren looked at the inferno, voice steady.
"What I have to."
A huge column of fire reached the sky, illuminating everyone's faces.
Yoren stared at the inferno before him, a blaze that seed capable of consuming the world itself. Yet, there wasn't a trace of fear in his eyes.
"Do what I have to do."
Unlike the powerless boy he had been in Mandel City, he had grown. But the obstacles in his path now were far greater than anything he had ever faced.
Even so, he made his choice—just as he had when he gave the potion to Vina.
Seeing Her's despair and Saria's silent resignation, he knew he had to act. No matter how impossible the odds, he would go. Because Ifrit was inside.
Yes, he hadn't changed. He was still that hopelessly stubborn, reckless, and overconfident fool.
But at this mont, he felt invincible. It had nothing to do with whether he had hair or not.
Her's sobs ceased abruptly. "Yoren, what are you going to do?"
Yoren rolled his shoulders, his expression firm. "I'm going to save Ifrit."
"You... No, you can't do that."
For a mont, hope flickered in Her's eyes at his words. But then, reason overtook the fragile dream. No one knew better than she did how impossible the rescue was.
Aina grabbed his arm. "Are you insane? If you go in there, you'll die too!"
White-Faced Owl, sitting on the ground, spoke in a flat, chanical tone. "Analyzing situation... Analysis complete. Based on big data risk assessnt, your survival rate after entering the flas is less than 10%. White-Faced Owl recomnds canceling this foolish course of action."
lantha, still wiping her tears, whimpered, "My Mibo... Wooo..."
It was clear—no one supported his decision. Rhine Life was a rational institution. Abandoning the rescue didn't an they didn't care about Ifrit. It ant they understood the reality of the situation. This wasn't the ti for reckless heroics.
The flas continued to rage, growing larger, not weaker.
Yoren had no idea how long Ifrit's body could hold on.
He took a deep breath and gently pulled his arm free from Aina's grip.
"I understand your reasoning. But I'm still going." He turned to the experint assistant. "Miss, get the suppressant."
Saria had remained silent, her head lowered. But now, she stepped forward and gripped his shoulders tightly.
Her voice was low, resolute. "Yoren, I can't let you take this risk. As head of Rhine Life's Defense Division, it's my duty to protect the experintal subjects. If soone has to make a sacrifice, then it should be ."
"Saria, I won't die."
"But—"
A small voice interrupted them.
Clear and unwavering, it soared over the chaos.
Snowsant, clutching Yoren's scarf, clenched her fists and shouted to the sky, "You won't die!"
The words echoed through the night. Her voice carried trust, reluctance, hope, and sothing deeply, painfully sincere.
She knew Yoren would go into the fire no matter what. Just like in Mandel City, when he had chosen to protect Ifrit.
She might seem silly most of the ti, but Snowsant understood him better than anyone.
Despite her fear, despite her reluctance, she wouldn't stop him. Because no matter how many impossible situations he had faced, he had always co back.
Tears welled in her eyes as she raised her tiny fist and shouted again, "Yoren will not die!"
Silence fell.
Everyone turned to Yoren.
He simply smirked, striking a pose that held no real aning.
A deep voice left his lips as the flas roared behind him. "I bloom in the midst of slaughter and am reborn in the flas. My na is Fire Feather Yoren."
The words stunned them all.
Saria looked at him as if he had lost his mind. "Why don't I just go—"
"No."
Yoren took the syringe from the assistant.
"Wealth isn't for the faint of heart. This is my mission. No one else's."
"You..."
He t Saria's gaze, unwavering. "Saria, if you were trapped in that fire, I'd do the sa for you."
Her breath caught.
Without another word, Yoren turned and strode toward the inferno, syringe in hand.
This was his choice. He had already said the coolest lines he could think of.
Now, it was ti to act.
Let ti freeze at his most glorious mont.
Maybe, just maybe, his overwhelming aura had convinced them all.
No one stopped him.
And yet... reality was cruel.
After barely ten steps, Yoren halted.
Then, he turned back, his expression that of an old woman who had just been shortchanged at the market.
"Wait... this isn't right. If I just run in like this, I'll be burned to a crisp, and the syringe won't last long either."
Saria sighed. "You finally figured it out."
Yoren rubbed his head, pacing in frustration. "What do I do? Shove the syringe in my crotch? It won't last!"
"I have a plan."
"Huh?"
Saria pulled out a specialized firearm, a syringe-loaded gun from her belt.
"Use this. The gun is completely fire-resistant. This fla isn't normal, but it should hold for at least five minutes."
"Oh!" Yoren's eyes lit up as he rushed over.
Saria quickly loaded the suppressant into the syringe gun and gave him a brief rundown on how to use it.
Once everything was ready, she locked eyes with him, her expression serious. "Are you absolutely sure? You can still back out."
"I won't."
She hesitated. "Why don't I just—"
"No. Let bear this alone."
This wasn't a war. One person or two wouldn't change anything. Even if Saria was powerful, she had no ans to shield herself from these flas indefinitely. If she entered, she would burn just like anyone else.
Gripping the injection pistol tightly, Yoren's face betrayed no fear.
Of course, even if he was terrified, he wouldn't show it.
This was his responsibility.
Yoren would not die. If fate could be altered by re words, then he would have perished in Mandel City long ago. He had long since developed an immunity to such ons.
The hero always arrives at the last mont. Now, everyone was watching him.
This was his ti to shine.
The world was focused on him.
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