242 Pyromaniac
Instantaneously, Lumian felt an inferno raging within him. The scorching agony seared through his body and soul, engulfing him completely. This sensation was not alien to him. Whether it was the dire wounds inflicted during his pursuit of the flaming monster or the brink of losing control while receiving a boon, all had set him ablaze.
In this very mont, the tornting fire failed to extinguish the blazing determination in his heart. He defied destiny, yearning to alter the course of events, to incinerate the oppressive flas of despair and desolation.
Instead of succumbing to the pain and collapsing to the ground, Lumian remained upright. Clenching his teeth and contorting his face, he refused to bow down.
Gradually, the agony beca unbearable, and his body began to bend. Nevertheless, Lumian mustered all his strength to straighten his back, just as he had confronted Guillau Bénet, the padre, and Termiboros, who had unleashed a cataclysmic calamity upon Cordu.
Step by step, he lowered his body and raised it again. The scent of singed flesh filled his nostrils, and the voice from infinity reverberated in his ears.
A familiar, excruciating pain pierced his skull, eliciting an involuntary cry. Cracks ford on his skin, and molten liquid akin to lava coursed beneath.
Desperately, Lumian leaned on the desk before him, seeking support.
The spot he touched promptly blackened and charred, perating the air with the scent of burning timber.
His instinctive scream was stifled. His mouth hung open, expelling searing gas.
Instead of imdiately uncorking the vial of gray amber perfu, he relied on the fire within his chest to combat the mounting anguish and the increasingly hazy thoughts welling up from within.
Seconds ticked away. Lumian, with gritted teeth, sensed the flas within his chest surging forth, mingling with the inferno raging throughout his being.
Gradually, the manifold pains subsided, and his muddled thoughts gradually cleared.
Using his hands as support, Lumian hoisted himself up and directed his gaze towards the full-length mirror in the room.
Reflected in the looking glass, his blond locks retained a tinge of black, his attire reduced to tatters. His body bore scorch marks that swiftly scabbed over and fell to the floor, revealing his fair complexion.
Simultaneously, Lumian beheld two crimson flas ablaze within his blue eyes. It was only after striving to regain composure and still his racing heart that the flas gradually dissipated.
In the next second, In the next heartbeat, Lumian raised his right hand, manifesting a crimson fla in his palm.
He had triumphantly ascended to the Sequence 7 of the Hunter’s path, erging as a Pyromaniac!
From his palm, flas surged, intertwining with the original crimson hue, constantly compressing.
After a span of more than ten seconds, the fiery crimson transford into an incandescent white. The temperature and explosive force it contained surged to greater heights.
I can wield the crimson fla directly or, by accumulating and compressing it for a duration, unleash an even more scorching white-hot blaze… Lumian’s palm appeared impervious to the scorching heat as he allowed the white-hot fla to silently burn.
Having already conducted a preliminary assessnt of his condition and the mystical knowledge he had acquired, Lumian had gained a fairly comprehensive understanding of the superpowers bestowed upon a Pyromaniac.
First and foremost, a Pyromaniac’s spirituality had seen a remarkable improvent, leading to a transformative shift in Lumian’s Spirit Vision. No longer confined to a chaotic spectacle, he now possessed the ability to employ a more discreet and expeditious activation thod. Moreover, he could finally perceive the hues and shades his sister had described, discerning the various components of the Ether Body.
This newfound insight proved invaluable to a Hunter, enabling Lumian to better grasp an adversary’s physical state and thereby target them with greater precision.
Secondly, his instinct for danger had undergone significant enhancent. Gone were the days when he only sensed trouble at the very brink of eruption. Through careful observation of his surroundings and the assimilation of information, Lumian could now activate his intuition preemptively. Consequently, he could detect if he was being followed and employ his anti-tracking techniques more effectively and flawlessly.
Thirdly, his command over flas had brought with it a handful of accompanying spells.
At present, Lumian’s primary ability involved controlling the flas that originated from within him or were conjured by his own hands. While he possessed an affinity for flas and combustible substances in his vicinity, his influence over them remained sowhat limited. It was possible that, upon digesting the Pyromaniac potion or advancing to a higher Sequence, corresponding changes might occur.
Furthermore, Lumian could employ the flas he created as weapons against his adversaries. However, once the flas left his body, they no longer fell under his dominion unless he had pre-invested a portion of his spirituality in them.
In essence, altering the trajectory of a fireball in mid-flight proved to be quite challenging, necessitating a supplentary expenditure of spirituality.
The control of flas could be categorized into seven distinct aspects:
Firstly, there was compression—a bombardnt in the form of a fireball. The longer the compression lasted, the more flas gathered, resulting in a more potent strike.
Secondly, Lumian could ignite a layer of flas over his body, affording him a asure of defense against freezing effects, poisonous gases, and other forms of assault.
Thirdly, he could fashion various temporary weapons using flas, capable of inflicting scorching, cutting, and piercing damage. Depending on the ti spent channeling the flas, this ability could be categorized as either crimson or blazing-white.
Fourthly, Lumian had mastered the art of delayed explosions. By employing additional spirituality and manipulating the structure, he could fashion a Fla Bomb that would detonate at a predetermined ti, rather than imdiately upon impact.
Fifthly, he possessed the power of area-of-effect attacks. By extending the reach of the flas instead of hurling them forth, Lumian could ensure precise control over their detonation, causing them to erupt at a desired location or manifest in different forms.
Sixthly, Lumian had honed the technique of Fire Infusion. Through close-quarters combat and the forceful clash of strength, he could gradually inject flas into an opponent’s body before triggering their detonation.
Finally, the seventh aspect involved imbuing his weapon with fire damage.
The fire-type spells Lumian had acquired were instruntal in these various aspects, leveraging certain techniques to achieve effects that he could not ordinarily produce.
The spells at Lumian’s disposal were as follows: Fire Raven, Blazing Spear, Wall of Fire, and Giant Fireball.
Of them all, the Fire Raven spell stood out as the most enchanting. With its aid, Lumian could swiftly condense a flock of flaming ravens around him, bestowing a fraction of his spirituality upon each avian form. This granted him a degree of control even after they departed from his body, enabling them to montarily adjust their flight path and lock onto their intended targets.
Without this spell, Lumian, a recent convert to Pyromaniac, would need to expend at least three tis his present store of spirituality and energy to achieve a similar outco. Moreover, the Fire Ravens would possess a significantly more clumsy and rigid disposition.
Blazing Spear, on the other hand, entailed the rapid condensation of white flas, though they could only maintain the shape of a spear. Infused with spirituality, they could roughly guide Lumian’s created fireball.
By utilizing the ground as a conduit and drawing upon its own essence, Wall of Fire summoned forth a pair of flaming serpents that slithered toward the enemy, erecting a scorching barrier around them.
Giant Fireball demanded a span of ten to twenty seconds, akin to the compression of nurous crimson fireballs into a single devastating blast.
While the Pyromaniac’s flas originated from his physical form and primarily inflicted bodily harm, they were also capable of burning a Spirit Body. Lumian was no longer defenseless against creatures of a soul-like nature, though he still relied on external assistance.
Additionally, the potion’s modifications had bestowed upon his body a remarkable resistance to flas. Even if doused in animal fat and subjected to the flas of a torch for half a day, the damage he suffered would be minimal. Nevertheless, the concussive force of a fireball’s explosion could still harm him in a conventional manner.
Lumian held the belief that as he advanced to higher Sequences, his body might even rge with fire itself.
With a casual flick of his right hand, the blazing white fla dissipated into the air.
Then, with a firm grip, he summoned a longsword crafted from crimson flas, materializing it from thin air.
Lumian brandished the fiery blade a few tis, his disappointnt evident. He muttered silently to himself, It possesses the ability to harm the enemy, but it cannot block or parry…
The flaming sword lacked a tangible form. Lumian surmised that he would need to reach a higher Sequence before he could turn such a weapon corporeal.
He dismissed the flaming longsword and drew Hedsey’s dagger.
As his fingers caressed the dagger’s surface, a fiery blaze enveloped the blade.
Lumian tightened his grip on the hilt and executed a few thrusts with the dagger. He observed the rapid dissipation of red sparks in the air, creating an ethereal spectacle.
It can block and deal fire damage. Though it may lack scorching temperatures in this form, it remains highly useful.
The current problem lies in the fact that ordinary weapons cannot endure exposure to flas for long… Lumian pondered, nodding approvingly.
Having confird his Beyonder powers as a Pyromaniac, he swiftly organized his desk and donned a linen shirt, a brown jacket, and dark trousers.
Lumian cast a final glance at his reflection in the mirror, a smile curling upon his lips.
He placed the dark-blue cap upon his head, turned on his heel, and strode purposefully toward the door.
Crimson flas silently erupted in his wake, an epheral and blinding display.
…
On Avenue du Marché, outside the khaki-colored four-story building that housed the mber of parliant’s office,
Lumian once again found himself seated among the destitute at the alley opposite, quietly observing the steady flow of people entering and exiting the targeted establishnt.
In the wake of the explosion at Goodville Chemical Factory, countless workers had tragically lost their lives, leaving many more injured. The entire city of Trier was abuzz with news reporters flocking to the scene. As a result, Hugues Artois’s office remained aglow with gas-powered wall lamps, as his staff tirelessly attended to visitors with varied intentions.
The mber of parliant had yet to return ho, and his entourage naturally remained within the khaki-colored building. Every room seed to radiate with illumination, brimming with activity.
Leaning against the wall of the street, Lumian observed the comings and goings within the mber of parliant’s office, his mind churning with contemplation.
He yearned to ignite a “fire”!
He yearned to “incinerate” the despicable scoundrel responsible for spreading disease!
He was fully aware of the dire consequences that awaited him. As a Pyromaniac, he understood that he alone was not yet strong enough to face off against the evil god’s Blessed who surrounded Hugues Artois.
Yet, he simply longed to take action. He couldn’t shake the feeling that no matter how fierce a conflagration may be, it all started with a single spark.
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