A World of Flame
The Ember Road shimmered under their feet like glass soaked in dusklight. Faint heat pulsed beneath each step—alive, but not burning. Ryen, Yuji, and Aika walked forward slowly, the map scroll still crumpled in Yuji's trembling hands. Behind them, the pink forest of the Flame World was now a haunting memory, and in front of them… was the unknown.
Yumi walked silently beside them, her robes brushing against the stone. Her expression unreadable. Calm. As if none of this was out of place.
Yuji finally spoke, his voice dry. "So… where exactly are we going?"
Yumi looked up. "To the Xina Registry Office. You don't exist in this world until you're counted."
Aika frowned. "Counted?"
Ryen narrowed his eyes. "Identity registration?"
Yumi nodded. "Exactly. Without it, you're illegal. A nobody. Not even allowed to buy water."
Yuji blinked. "Wait… we need an identity to drink?"
Yumi didn't smile. "Yes. And to breathe. At least legally."
Ryen muttered, "Sounds like the Council. But worse."
When they reached the gates of the outer capital of Xina, it became clear how different this place truly was.
A massive stone arch stood over the entrance, etched with flame runes. It wasn't guarded by soldiers—but by cultivators, each surrounded by glowing circles of flame. Some hovered mid-air. Others sat cross-legged, floating. Even the wind bent around them.
Yumi walked up to the checkpoint confidently, nodded once, and placed her palm on a crystal disc.
The crystal glowed red.
The flame cultivators stepped aside without a word.
Yuji whispered, "That… was her badge?"
Aika replied, "Probably her cultivation mark."
They passed through the gate—and Xina unfolded before them.
Not a city.
A realm.
Sky-towers of golden marble floated above the skyline, chained to massive anchors. Walkways spiraled through the air. Beasts soared overhead, controlled by riders with eyes glowing orange. Carts hovered inches above the road, pulled by wolves made of flame. People strolled casually—some with staffs, some barefoot, some breathing fire from their mouths to light lanterns.
Yuji's jaw dropped. "This… isn't a kingdom. It's a miracle."
"No," Ryen said, eyes cold. "It's control. But sophisticated."
The Registry Office stood at the base of a pyramid made of blackstone and emberglass. Inside, everything pulsed with a faint red glow. Countless people waited in line. Each booth was manned by scribes whose fingers left trails of fire across scrolls.
Yumi stepped forward. "They're not from this world," she said plainly. "But I'm sponsoring them."
A scribe looked up, annoyed. "500 crimstones per person."
Yuji flinched. "F-Five hun—"
Before the protest could leave his lips, Yumi reached into her side pouch and dropped 1,500 glowing red stones on the desk. They clinked with heat.
Even the scribe blinked.
"…Approved."
She turned to them. "You're welcome."
Yuji stared. "You just spent that much for us… why?"
Yumi shrugged. "I'm investing in you."
Soon, three floating crystal cards appeared before them—burning red, displaying glowing text in mid-air.
---
RYEN SYLVAN
EB: 10
FE: 1
ADM RING Level: Unknown
Skills: 3 Common, 2 Rare
---
AIKA MIYAWAKI
EB: 10
FE: 1
ADM RING: ★★★
Skill: Freezing Ice (Intermediate Martial)
---
YUJI KAZEHAYA
EB: 0
FE: 1
ADM RING: ★★ (recent upgrade)
Skill: Speed Up Allies (+5% team movement speed)
---
Yuji blinked in confusion. "I got… no EB?"
Yumi glanced at him. "Your ring is unique. I noticed it during the fight in the pink forest. It doesn't accept normal EB conversion."
Yuji looked at his hands. "Then how the hell am I supposed to fight?"
"You're not," Yumi said simply. "Wind is a support element. Not offensive. Not defensive. Only used to assist."
Her voice was matter-of-fact—but it shattered something inside him.
Yuji's breath caught in his throat.
His mind spun.
Wind… is weak?
"…What?…"
Ryen turned toward him.
Yuji's voice trembled as he whispered,
> "Wind is a weak element?… Means… I've been using it the wrong way… all along…"
His heart sank.
The weight of every fight—every moment of desperation—crashed into him. He remembered the arena, the missions, the look in Aika's eyes when he fought Vernakar, the shadow arrows he had fired from instinct. All this time… he had thought Wind was his power. His strength.
But it wasn't even made for battle.
He turned away, fists clenched, trying to breathe through the sting.
Aika reached for his shoulder—but Ryen gave her a glance.
Let him process.
Then Ryen looked at Yumi.
> "Alright. You've helped us. But why?"
Yumi's gaze didn't waver. "Because I need help in return. Dangerous help."
She took a step forward, voice lower now, serious.
> "Tonight you rest in the Pink Village. But tomorrow—you help me on a mission. I'll pay you. Crimstones. And if you survive long enough… maybe I can help you find a way back home."
Aika crossed her arms. "What kind of mission?"
Yumi's lips curled slightly. "You'll see."
Yuji's mind still echoed with the word weak.
He didn't look back.
The world around him was built for strength, cultivation, and control.
And he was a support.
In a war of flame.
---
THE MAN IN THE BLACK COAT
The fire was almost out. Only dying embers remained, glowing faintly under the moonless sky.
A small encampment stood on the edge of a scorched valley, hidden between collapsed cliffs and twisted trees. Wooden crates stacked with stolen tech, crates of gunpowder, and corrupted EB bottles littered the ground. Criminal cultivators sat around oil-burning lanterns—laughing, sharpening swords, chewing cooked meat. Their red sashes marked them as outlaws.
And each of them was powerful.
Level 5 cultivators—mid-tier in this Flame World. More than enough to kill a hundred untrained men.
A woman in a brown cloak walked through the tents, her face half-hidden, hands shaking slightly as she approached the main hut. Her breath was quick, panicked. Sweat clung to her skin despite the cold air.
She entered the canvas doorway.
And froze.
There was someone sitting in the dark.
A figure—unmoving.
Long black coat. Sleeves buttoned to the wrist. Pants tight. Polished boots resting silently on the wooden floor. A sleek black mask covered his face, only his lips barely visible beneath. His hair was hidden by a hood, and at his side, two customized guns lay holstered—silver-edged, rune-burned.
The air around him was… still. Not tense. Not hostile. Just still.
But something inside the woman screamed.
She opened her mouth to cry out—but it was already too late.
She staggered back through the entrance, screaming:
> "INTRUDER!!"
Dozens of red-sashed criminals burst from their tents, weapons drawn—blades, whips, fire gauntlets. Energy surged through the camp.
One of them shouted, "Who the hell—?!"
Then they saw him.
The man in the black coat stepped out of the hut.
He didn't run. He didn't attack.
He walked.
Calm. Focused. As if he had all the time in the world.
> "Who are you!?" one of them barked.
Another raised his sword. "You lost, rat?!"
The man stopped in the middle of the campfire circle.
Then—with a flick of both wrists—his twin guns were in his hands.
> FFFT-CRACK!
The first shot rang like a whip of thunder. A red-sashed soldier's head snapped backward—the bullet piercing his brow cleanly.
Before anyone could react—
> CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!
Three more fell. Bullets spun in the air like shadows wrapped in silver.
The remaining six lunged, roaring. "GET HIM!!"
One fire cultivator sent a wave of flame.
> Whoosh!
The man leapt sideways, twisting his body in midair with impossible precision. His coat flared. He landed low, slid beneath the fire, and shot upward through a gap in the flame with perfect aim—
> CRACK!
Another fell—his shoulder shattered.
But now the others were adapting.
They closed the distance. Swords began slicing the bullets mid-air.
They weren't amateurs.
And the man in the coat—
> He was struggling.
The momentum shifted.
The guns weren't enough now.
He ducked under a blade—but a second one cut across his chest. Sparks flew as his coat's inner armor deflected most of it. He staggered. Blood trickled from his lip.
He dodged left—a hammer came from above.
Blocked it with his gun—but the weapon cracked under the impact.
One cultivator grabbed him by the arm—another slammed a kick into his back.
He flew forward, hit the dirt, rolled.
His body was shaking now. His mask cracked.
> "He's alone!" one shouted.
> "Crush him!"
The man in the black coat got to one knee.
His breathing was sharp now. Hurried.
He wasn't trying to win.
He was stalling.
Waiting.
From the edge of a nearby cliff—hidden in the dark—
A woman stood.
Long blue hair glowed faintly under the stars.
Eyes like frozen oceans. Calm. Piercing. Calculating.
She watched him fall, then—
She raised a hand to her mouth like a signal amplifier, and screamed:
> "Silas Reign—NOW!!"
In a split second—
The man in the black coat—Silas Reign—sprang upward like a shadow unchained.
His body twisted in the air, guns vanishing into their holsters.
Dark energy—thick, vibrating—began swirling around him like a storm.
His ADM Ring, hidden beneath the coat's cuff, pulsed with dark veins.
From his back—a bow of black mist formed—crooked and violent.
His hand reached back.
A single arrow of shadow coalesced in the air.
It vibrated like it was screaming.
He drew it. Aimed it not at his enemies—
But at the ground.
> BOOM!!!
The explosion shattered the center of the camp, kicking up a cyclone of smoke, dirt, flame, and cursed energy.
The enemies were blown backward, screaming, some caught in the aftershock.
When the dust began to settle, Silas stood at the center of a crater, panting, his coat torn, arms bleeding.
But alive.
The woman with the blue hair stepped forward into the clearing.
Slow. Graceful.
Her expression unreadable.
One of the injured enemies gasped, eyes wide. "Y-You're with him?"
She didn't answer.
Silas looked up at her, coughing once. "Got the ingredients?"
She nodded.
> "We found them. The last three. The cure is possible now."
He gave a tired nod.
Then turned his back to the battlefield—shoulders low.
"Then let's go. Before I pass out."
The two of them vanished into the trees.
Silas Reign didn't kill for sport.
He killed to survive.
And tonight—he had done just enough to do that.
But in his bloodstream, the poison still swirled.
And the clock was ticking.
--
THE POWER SYSTEM OF THE FLAME WORLD
The room was warm—lit by a floating ember lantern swaying gently above them. The walls were carved from polished pinkstone, etched with symbols Yuji didn't recognize. Outside, the forest glowed faintly beneath a twilight sky that never turned black. But inside, for the first time in hours… they could breathe.
Aika sat by the window, her leg still bandaged but her sword across her lap. She hadn't let go of it since they'd arrived.
Yuji sat cross-legged on the floor, glancing now and then at his new ID card.
Ryen stood with his back to the wall, arms crossed, but even he seemed to lower his guard just a bit.
Yumi sat in the center, legs folded, her long black hair draped over one shoulder. Her red-inked nails tapped against the table as she spoke.
> "This world operates on a different foundation than yours," she began calmly. "We don't channel elemental energy through metal gear. We cultivate our flames—our essence—from within."
She gestured toward the lantern above.
> "Every living being holds a potential flame. But it must be awakened, fed, and refined through the Ten Realms of Cultivation."
Yuji leaned in, his brows pinched.
> "Ten realms?"
Yumi nodded. "Each Realm has Ten Levels. Each Level has Ten Stages. The climb is long… and cruel. Most die before crossing Realm Three. Right now—" she paused, looking at each of them, "—you're all at Realm One, Level One, Stage One. The very beginning."
Ryen's voice was quiet but sharp. "So no shortcuts."
"No," Yumi said. "But you have potential. That much I felt the moment I saw you."
Aika narrowed her eyes. "What about Flame Energy?"
Yumi explained, "We call it FE—Flame Energy. It fuels growth. Just like your Energy Bottles, but for the inner flame. One FE lasts for thirty days. You can craft it—if you have beast cores, beast souls, and EBs… or buy it."
Yuji looked at his ID card again. "So this number here… is how much FE we have?"
Yumi nodded. "Exactly."
Then Ryen stepped forward.
> "In our world," he said, "we used ADM Rings. They had levels—1-star to 5-star. We mastered elemental control through them, and EB powered them. Our combat was external."
He looked at his own hand.
> "But here… power is internal. Layered. Cultivation is more than battle. It's breathing, healing, surviving."
Yumi smiled faintly.
> "You're quick learners. And one more thing—this."
She held up a smooth red coin that shimmered.
> "Crimstones. Our currency. You'll need them for everything—from scrolls to potions to travel."
Yuji sighed, eyes wide.
> "We really are… at the bottom."
Yumi stood. Her silhouette against the window was almost royal.
> "You'll stay here tonight. But tomorrow, you help me with something important. In return… I'll help you find a way home."
None of them objected.
Not because they trusted her—
But because, for now… she was the only thread of clarity in a world of flame and confusion.
And outside, the strange forest waited—alive with creatures, secrets, and the weight of cultivation yet to come.
---
END OF CHAPTER 15.
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