"We really need to have a serious talk with you! Blowing little Dei's hometown sky-high and turning it into a... a 'major archaeological site' is one thing, but have you thought about a very, very, *very* important question?!"
She jabbed a small finger almost into Phaethon's stomach. "Nikador's Coreflame?! That's one of the most critical elements of the Re-Creation Process! While it's theoretically not something easily shattered, what if it was?! What if your 'big firework' blasted it into some remote corner?! Or worse, shattered it into dust?! Where would we even begin to look?! Do you have any idea how important that thing is?!"
"Er... well..." Phaethon was left speechless, instinctively scratching the back of his head as his eyes darted around. It seemed... he had completely overlooked the issues of "loot recovery" and "important artifact preservation." Tribbie's rapid-fire questions struck a chord, making him instantly feel rather guilty.
By sheer luck!
Just as Phaethon was about to be pinned down by Tribbie's stare, a figure sped over from the nearby ruins. It was Phainon! After sprinting several laps around the shockwave-flattened outskirts of the old Castrum Kremnos site, he came to a steady stop before the group. In his palm—lay the Coreflame of Strife!
"Teacher Tribbie, I found it about five kilometers southwest, under a cracked foundation. The shockwave pushed it there. It's completely intact," Phainon explained concisely, handing the Coreflame to Tribbie.
Tribbie carefully accepted the all-important Coreflame, examined it closely, and finally let out a long sigh of relief, most of her anger dissipating. She looked back at Phaethon, her tone much softer now, though still carrying a note of admonishment. "Alright, this time you got lucky, with Snowy here to clean up... to retrieve it for you. But next time, you mustn't act so rashly! Understood, little Phaethon?" (Note: Little phaethon to be more strict rather than the usual little snowy which is more affectionate)
"Mhm, mhm! Yes, yes! Understood! I'll definitely prioritize Coreflame recovery next time!" Phaethon nodded vigorously, his attitude as sincere as could be.
A minor crisis was finally averted. The group prepared to return to Okhema with this precious Coreflame of Strife.
However, at that moment, a thought stirred within Phaethon.
His consciousness sank once more into the folder named [Nikador].
*Hummm—!*
Not far away, the enormous Blade of Fury, embedded in the scorched earth, emitted a deep, powerful hum!
The dust and debris covering it cascaded down. Then, the colossal weapon slowly, of its own accord, lifted from the ground and hovered in mid-air, its blade adjusting slightly as if awaiting its next command!
Tribbie, about to leave, snapped her head around. Her eyes went wide, then she sharply turned her gaze toward Phaethon, who wore an "innocent" expression. Her eyes darted between Phaethon and the Blade of Fury twice.
Finally, she muttered under her breath, "...Little Snowy is just too overpowered! Completely, utterly overpowered!!"
With that, she didn't spare another glance at the others. Clutching the Coreflame of Strife, she stepped into the Infinity Gate leading to Okhema without looking back.
Phaethon, unfazed by Tribbie's reaction, even stretched leisurely, loosening his muscles. Deep within his consciousness, he was happily organizing files.
He carefully separated the fragments parsed from the Nikador folder—Courage, Honor, Reason, Tenacity, Sacrifice—each shimmering with different lights and qualities, and categorized them into five newly created sub-folders.
As the last trait was successfully filed away, the deepest, most fundamental permissions of what was once Nikador's core folder opened themselves completely to him.
The Immortal Body, acquired!
...
"Wha... what? Have me... take on the Coreflame of Strife? Become... a Demigod of Strife?"
When Aglaea calmly proposed this suggestion to Phaethon, he was utterly stunned. For a moment, he thought he was hallucinating from drawing too many "Skyfire Judgement" blueprints lately and instinctively scratched his ear, his face a mask of disbelief.
Phaethon looked at Aglaea, who now possessed a somewhat more human understanding, trying to find any hint of jest on her face.
Seeing his utterly confounded expression, Aglaea sighed helplessly, rubbing her temples with her fingers as she explained. "Originally, the most ideal candidate was naturally Mydei. As the Crown Prince of Castrum Kremnos, his bloodline has the highest compatibility with Strife, and his will is sufficiently resilient. However..." Aglaea's tone grew even more helpless. "He has very firmly refused."
"Refused?" Phaethon was taken aback. That was a chance to become a Demigod!
"Yes," Aglaea nodded. "He said he is not yet prepared to bear such a heavy divine authority. His heart still harbors confusion and attachments. Forcing a fusion might lead to unforeseen consequences, and he fears failing the expectations of his clan and companions."
She looked up at Phaethon, her gaze turning complex. "Moreover... he specifically pointed out that the Strife Titan, Nikador, was slain by you alone. According to the ancient traditions of Castrum Kremnos, you inherently possess the highest priority claim to its authority."
"Furthermore, the Kremnoan people's greatest treasure, the Blade of Fury, has already submitted to your control with ease... All this, from various perspectives, proves that you share an... extraordinary degree of compatibility and potential with the Authority of Strife."
"Emotionally, logically, your attempt to fuse with the Coreflame and succeed in the 'Trial' might have the highest probability of success."
Aglaea concluded, "While your... operational methods are often unpredictable, considering the uniqueness of your abilities, I also acknowledge this... idea of his that sounds somewhat absurd, yet is not without reason."
"..."
Phaethon fell completely silent. He opened his mouth, momentarily at a loss for how to refute this.
Mydei... he really thinks that way? It's not because of something else?
Phaethon's thoughts involuntarily began rewinding at high speed, recalling every interaction since he first met the Crown Prince of Castrum Kremnos:
Their first proper meeting, if he recalled correctly, was on the wasteland outside the city, where he, not quite grasping the situation, ended up blasting him apart several times? Literally "killing" him a few times.
The second time, wasn't it in the arena? Where he beat him to his knees, forcing the proud Crown Prince to... uh, partake the Droma's red clay?
And then, just recently... he had just slain the Titan his Kremnoan dynsasty revered, a being that was, in a sense, their spiritual totem, using a method that was tremendously loud and not the least bit subtle.