Hugo’s chanting did not stop.
What he chanted was the secret of the Fire Transmitter and his brother "Ash."
"[Ash is nad for what has burned and cannot be reignited; charcoal is what has burned yet can still be reignited. Yet both ash and charcoal were born before fire appeared, even before anything combustible existed.]
"[Charcoal will eventually reignite, drifting to the sky, parting from the earth. Thus charcoal rises from the original fire, while ash falls into the abyss—]
The great-grandmother is the mother of all dragons, and she was born before light and fire.
Just like the secret about Winter that the great-grandmother bestowed upon Annan: "[Winter] was originally a term used to describe the silence of the heaven at the dawn of the earth, like that of a dying elder; and the earth’s hatred for all things that are about to pass but have not yet passed."
She is the eldest daughter of the earth.
Hence, December and January are close together, just as the mysterious lady of February and the silent lady of March are close together.
And the "Mother of Ash and Charcoal" refers taphorically to the "story of the birth of fla."
The true na of the Fire Transmitter is called "[Charcoal]." However, it is not spoken in the language of Aesirland but chanted in the dragon tongue; his brother Ash beca a demon and still remains to the east of the living desert.
—Before the elves entered the living desert, they lived in a realm ruled by Ash.
Ash, the "Undying Dragon," as the supre ruler, established a military governnt with strict hierarchy and discipline, dividing the demons into very stringent racial and class systems... Within the sa rank, seniority is honored, and among peers, military rit is prized.
The later one becos a fallen, the lower one’s status is due to less seniority; nevertheless, demons always respected the "gods"... or rather, "lords," "living pillars," "elders," "kings," and other such great beings.
Because they are even older.
In the moral view of demons, the older a living being is, the greater, stronger, or wiser it is.
A youth of two hundred years is no match for an elder of a thousand or more years; and an elder of a thousand years does not compare to a king of more than five thousand—this is a simple and clear logic for the fallen, whose strength grows with ti without the need for cultivation.
It is because they could not fall, and thus were discriminated against, that the elves chose to leave their holand and enter the living desert.
The Fire Transmitter, having previously plundered back the heart of The Void World for the world, bringing Elental Power to it, was promoted to a "king," endowed with a body of light. He decided to watch over those elves... Thus, a significant conflict arose between the Fire Transmitter and his brother Ash.
And as the "kings" left Ash’s empire, Ash, not being a "king" himself, could not have his own "guard"—the Angel Envoys, as the people of Aesirland call them.
Without trustworthy subordinates at hand, the loss of all the "kings’" demons plunged them into separatism. Ash then beca the most powerful warlord... After all, he was once the "Emperor."
Demons nostalgic for the "forr kings" founded the "Blood Charcoal Church," worshipping the three True Gods they revered most—the "Red Knight, the Goddess of Cup, and the Fire Transmitter."
And the grand ceremony Hugo now uses was taken from the Blood Charcoal Church of the eastern continent.
Its na is the "Blood Charcoal Ritual."
It uses charcoal soaked in "strong and precious" blood, and thus incombustible, as a dium to forcibly ignite it.
This is essentially a BUG.
For when precious blood soaks the charcoal, the concept of the Goddess of Cup has already perated it; she would protect this piece of charcoal, making it impossible to burn as blood-soaked charcoal until the blood dries; however, using the Divine Power of the Fire Transmitter—such as Genesis-level knowledge related to him—one can forcibly light the "drenched charcoal."
The conflicting Divine Power of the Goddess of Cup and the Fire Transmitter evoke the Red Knight, the god of war. And if the Red Knight’s Divine Power appears, then the Fire Transmitter cannot use Divine Power to ignite unburnable objects, nor can the Goddess of Cup use Divine Power to protect bloodstained things. But if the Divine Power of the Goddess of Cup and the Fire Transmitter disappears, then the Red Knight’s Divine Power also loses its target.
Thus, a Trinitarian paradox forms.
The Divine Power of the three True Gods did not appear, and therefore, there was no consumption, but it did indeed have an effect—the conflict and shattering of equal and proportional Divine Power creates ownerless Divine Power that belongs to no god.
This ritual is the founding principle of the Blood Charcoal Church.
Through the Blood Charcoal Ritual, one can bypass the permission of the gods and use Divine Arts without a response from the True Gods, or even their knowledge at all.
In essence, it is a blasphemous ritual.
Hugo uses this ritual to construct a furnace capable of "slting elents," "slting souls"—the Goddess of Cup is the god of desire, and the Fire Transmitter is the ancestor of elents; their Divine Power can indeed do this.
The reason Hugo called Annan was not in hopes that he could blow or cool down the slting furnace.
Rather, if the ritual failed and the True Gods noticed, at least he could use Annan to save face and thus ensure the completion of the ritual...
But fortunately, Hugo seems to have overthought it.
The Divine Power he stole was not much, and the three True Gods seed not to have noticed.
The ritual he constructed for slting souls, desires, and elents had been completed; and since the fla also mixed the undying fla that could burn Wisdom, it could also slt Wisdom.
The undying fla burning within the Marshland Heath Tower was already enough to split light.
"Saul... my student..."
That was a withered voice.
And the entity that appeared before the silent Salvatore was Hugo’s true self.
His skin was cracked all over, much like the Flint Father.
Brilliant flas, like the flickering of serpent’s tongues, surged from the fissures in his skin.
His eyes shone as bright as the scorching sun, with his silhouette ablaze with roaring firelight. Hugo’s exalted false body stood behind him.
Under Salvatore’s gaze, Hugo’s exalted false body was disintegrating.
Salvatore’s expressionless face showed no emotion.
But his vision suddenly blurred... Tears slowly fell from the corners of his eyes.
He didn’t wipe them away, instead staring at Hugo in the furnace.
It seed as if it wasn’t out of sadness... but rather because the light bursting forth from Hugo as he burned his soul was simply too intense.
"...Teacher, why would you do this?"
Salvatore asked softly.
Different from what Annan and Isaac had previously conjectured.
Salvatore wasn’t obsessively trying to stop Hugo’s self-destruction or childishly refusing to accept reality; he quickly understood and accepted what was happening.
— The ntor was burning his own soul, hoping to bestow upon him a certain gift.
He realized he was not in a position to stop Hugo.
Yet he still wished to know the reason: "Is it because I... am still not strong enough?"
"I once dread of improving the world as much as I could, to have those who ca after follow my path... To create as much as possible, to make people as happy as possible.
"But I soon realized that this was a wish I would never fulfill. Just as the sun cannot shine upon the earth forever, the world cannot exist in light alone."
Hugo, paying no attention to Salvatore, continued on his own: "However, this realization is painful. When I recognized that it was but a madman’s pursuit of a phantom dream... Whether I clung to that sorrowful wish or abandoned it was equally excruciating.
"I figured, if it was going to be painful either way, I’d rather choose to guard it and suffer."
Hugo, whose flas were growing fiercer, subconsciously tried to touch Salvatore’s hand.
But he quickly realized that his own body was ablaze and slowly withdrew the hand he had raised.
"—I have dedicated my life to others, Saul. At the end of my life, I have decided to be selfish... I will no longer consider your opinion and will bestow everything I have upon you."
"...In that case, wouldn’t I be forced onto your path?"
Salvatore murmured.
Even under the scorching of the flas, his tear streaks did not dry up.
The corners of Hugo’s mouth seed to lift slightly.
But beneath the engulfing flas, that too seed like nothing more than an illusion.
"Indeed, this is a curse, Saul."
Hugo’s voice grew increasingly deep: "I curse you—with my Elental curse..."
In a forge where even flas would expire, Hugo muttered softly.
"...Salvatore Hightower, you must be a good person and inherit my path."
As his voice fell, Hugo’s exalted false body behind him collapsed thunderously.
Hugo’s head began to turn ashen, slowly crumbling and breaking apart.
His voice grew increasingly distorted, as the roiling flas slowly dimd like dying embers.
"Saul, I am going to curse you... with my soul and my life."
As soon as Hugo finished speaking, his raised right hand turned to an ashen white and collapsed brittlely, like a fragile cigarette butt.
"Salvatore Hightower, you must...
"—live happily."
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