The platform rumbled as Rhys approached the center. The forge’s fla pulsed—slow, rhythmic, alive. Each beat echoed through the molten chamber like the heartbeat of a dying god.
Then the molten sea below began to churn.
Waves of fire rose and fell, the entire furnace trembling as sothing vast stirred beneath.
Puddle’s voice grew tense.
"Master... sothing’s waking up."
A silence followed—so deep it drowned even the fire.
Then ca the roar.
The molten sea exploded upward, and from its depths rose a titanic shape—scales like molten bronze, eyes burning with gold light, wings of living fla unfurling in a storm of heat. It landed atop the central forge with a deafening crash, claws sinking into the tal as rivers of lava cascaded from its body.
[ Final Guardian of the Dead Forge – Infernal Drake, Pyraestus ]
[ Elent: Fla, Corefire ]
The entire chamber dimd beneath its presence. The forge’s fire bowed before it—its own creator, its final guardian.
Puddle whispered in awe, "A Fla Drake... not a true dragon, but one born of the core’s first fire. A spirit of the forge itself."
The creature’s head lowered, its golden eyes locking onto Rhys. When it spoke, its voice rumbled like thunder rolling through molten stone.
"Another human... bearing deathfire. I can sll the grave and the dawn within your fla."
Rhys said nothing, tightening his grip on his sword. The Death Fla burned quietly around his hand, its black-red light refusing to bend.
The drake’s maw twisted, almost into a grin.
"Long ago, humans ca here too. They sought power, weapons, immortality. All burned. All turned to ash beneath my breath. But you..."
It leaned closer, the molten glow of its eyes reflecting in Rhys’s armor.
"You walk with death, yet your fire does not die. Curious... Tell , human—will you be my snack, or my slayer?"
Rhys smirked, stepping forward through the waves of heat.
"Try and find out."
The drake laughed, a deep, echoing sound that shook the forge.
"Good. Let’s see if your fla can stand against mine!"
It inhaled sharply, and the air itself ignited.
A torrent of molten fla roared forth, filling the chamber.
Rhys thrust out his hand.
"[Mana Shield]!"
The barrier flared to life, black and crimson light pressing against the inferno. It held—for three seconds—before cracking like glass. Rhys dived aside as molten steel slamd into the platform where he’d been.
"Fast," he muttered, rolling to his feet. "And heavy. Perfect."
He dashed forward, sword blazing.
"[Swift Cut]!"
His blade struck the drake’s leg, sending a burst of sparks. The hit barely left a mark. The creature’s tail whipped around with a roar, striking Rhys like a hamr of fla. He blocked, but the impact hurled him across the arena, crashing into molten rock.
Puddle’s voice rang out sharply, "Its scales absorb heat! Regular flas won’t pierce it!"
Rhys rose slowly, smirking through the smoke.
"Good thing mine aren’t regular."
He raised his sword, channeling [Molten Wrath] and [Radiant Break] together. The Death Fla turned molten-white at its edges, darkness and light spiraling into one another like opposing worlds colliding.
The drake reared back, inhaling again, runes glowing between its scales.
Rhys grinned. "Let’s see whose fire burns hotter."
He charged, slicing through the storm of fla as though parting water. His sword blazed with hybrid light, cutting straight into the drake’s chest.
"[Whirlwind Slash – Deathfire Spiral]!"
Twin arcs of black-red energy carved through molten bronze. Golden fire sprayed across the chamber as the drake roared in pain. It reared up and slamd both claws into the floor, summoning pillars of fire that tore through the platform.
Rhys dodged between them, landing on a trembling ledge.
"Master!" Puddle cried. "Its core—look! The glow runs from its heart to its throat when it breathes!"
Rhys’s eyes narrowed. "Then that’s my target."
He pressed a hand to his chest. "Puddle—fusion mode."
Light exploded outward, enveloping him. Death, Water, and Light mana intertwined, shaping into a luminous black-blue aura. His armor glead with shifting runes, the Death Fla evolving into sothing living.
[ Soul Fusion – Battle Form: Aether Vein Awakened ]
Rhys’s sword shimred—its edge flowing like liquid water, its core burning with living darkness.
He vanished.
A flash of light—and he reappeared above the drake’s head.
"[Vertical Slash – Abyssal Dive]!"
The strike descended like a cot, piercing the drake’s throat. An explosion of black, red, and white light filled the forge. The creature howled, thrashing, molten scales shattering into shards of light.
But it still rose, roaring in defiance.
"You think that’s enough to kill a creature born of fla itself!?"
Its wings spread wide, and it soared upward, spiraling around the chamber. teors of molten tal rained from above, turning the air to fire.
Rhys sprinted along the collapsing platforms, dodging through the falling inferno. His sword flared brighter with each heartbeat, feeding on his fury and focus.
"This forge ends with !"
He leapt, eting the drake head-on as it dove, its maw opening in one final blast.
"[Execution Art – Final Requiem: Deathfire Nova]!"
The collision split the forge apart. Fire t Deathfire. Fla t Fla. The world went silent—then burst into light so bright it erased shadow itself.
When the glow finally faded, the air hung still.
The drake lay broken across the platform, molten blood cooling into glassy obsidian. Its golden eyes dimd, yet a faint smile curved its lips.
The molten air quivered.
For a long mont, Rhys stood still—breathing hard, sword lowered, the Deathfire dimming around his blade. The Infernal Drake’s vast body lay motionless, heat still rippling from its scales.
Then the silence cracked.
A pulse—deep, resonant—echoed through the chamber. The drake’s body convulsed, molten lines crawling across its form like veins of liquid gold. Its chest, once still, began to glow once more—brighter, deeper—until it burned almost white.
Puddle’s voice trembled. "Master—wait, sothing’s wrong! Its mana isn’t fading—it’s... changing!"
Rhys stepped back, sword raised. "Changing into what—"
The rest was drowned in a sound that was not quite a roar, not quite a scream. The drake’s body ruptured in streams of molten light, but instead of fading, the fire gathered—pulling back into itself, reshaping.
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