Thanks to Arthur's pull, Scar had avoided duels since Isaac's death. He knew that would catch up to him eventually in ways he'd regret.
The silver lining of this grace period, though, was replaying that hug with Haven in his mind. He'd cried. God, it was good. He wanted more.
He'd been eager for the autopsy report on Isaac. Arthur was still waiting for it. But before any of that mattered, he needed to master the Flames of the Unknown.
He'd been training, putting his flames to use, trying to balance the regular flames against the flames of decay.
Still, it was nearly impossible, he could barely sustain normal flames for a moment before decay broke through to sear his hands.
All six of his predecessors used decay without its flame-like form. Sure, if Scar used the flames, his enemies might have trouble recognizing it was him, but not at the cost of his body decomposing.
And if that happened, they'd figure it out regardless. The thought was as darkly amusing as it was terrifying.
Now, Scar was seated on his bed, attempting to calm himself and channel the dark flames without decay seeping through.
He'd learned that focus improved his control, but with his restless mind, it was like pushing a mountain. To make matters worse, Julien and Purple were present.
"It's worse than possession. They're being sold something… something meant to make them stronger."
Purple said, while enjoying a card game with Julien.
"Scar fought one of them recently… and I don't think strength is the only price they pay. They go insane as well." Julien added.
Purple sighed, playing with her braids.
"I think I have a fair idea of what it could be. If that's the case, then someone is definitely aiding them."
Scar leaned into their conversation more as time went on. The day Isaac died, he'd fought someone who reeked of bloodlust.
Hell, even Amell, the first person he'd fought at this academy, had reeked of it. But recently, the number of students with that aura had increased.
People acted normal before duels, then went completely berserk the instant they entered the arena, becoming furious and desperate for blood.
When they won, they became animals, tearing into the corpse with disturbing excitement. But the moment they left the arena? Gone. They'd completely lose all memory of what they'd done.
But the most brutal part came when they lost. They acted like their pride had been irreparably damaged, went on a rampage, and attempted suicide by any means possible the instant they left the arena.
The investigation had been going on for weeks despite more than ten cases, and as far as students knew, there were no answers yet.
"If my guess is correct, the one behind this could never have done it alone. Someone has been in contact with him, and now he's using them as vessels for victorious souls."
Julien frowned.
"Souls? Soul manipulation? Is he one of your family's enemies?"
For the first time, Scar saw Purple actually laugh. He didn't know when she and Julien had gotten close, but apparently Julien was now serving the Vey family.
"If he were our enemy, the family would've fallen already. Until we have proof, this remains speculation, and a Dreamwalker could just as easily be the culprit."
That wasn't possible. The academy existed far in the depths of Barbados, nearly reaching the Fifth District, Durban.
Scarlet Kins don't attack indiscriminately. Each has a goal determined by its origin: Generic-origin creatures go after fundamentals like scent or desires, while Manifestations like Quagmire are born from natural phenomena.
For a Dreamwalker to project that far, it would need to be on the human continent or be at least Catastrophe-level. But if that were the case, ordinary citizens would have been caught in its traps as well.
The only exception would be if the creature had some unusual ability to specifically exclude normal humans from its hunting. But that seemed extremely unlikely.
None of that mattered to Scar, though. He had more urgent concerns.
His flames flickered in his palms. He had to stop them periodically, reflexively, whenever the decay bled through.
Mid-practice, someone knocked. A staff member stood there with a summons from Scar's uncle, Arthur Rover.
He wasn't registered as a Rover at the academy. Apart from Arthur and Haven, his childhood friend, everyone believed he was a Hide. But Arthur's enthusiastic, frequent summons meant it was only a matter of time before his identity came into question.
On the way to the Sun Phoenix's office, Scar spotted something. Adisa. That bastard was struggling like something was crushing his lungs—dragging his feet, leaning on walls, trembling. The pain on his face made Scar smile.
Seeing his enemies in pain just satisfied him. Adisa's state went beyond simple pain, but it was equally satisfying to witness.
In Arthur's office, though, the man spoke as though he loathed Scar's presence.
"Your final duel is tomorrow, the one that determines whether you live or die. I hope you remember. The two weeks given by the Supreme Council are nearly over. Only three days remain. Come to me after your victory."
He got kicked out of the office immediately after that. He was actually relieved, though, because he knew he was screwed. He'd completely forgotten everything that happened, with Isaac's death, all of it, made him forget. He hadn't realized the deadline was so close.
Tomorrow? He can't even control his flames for a second.
His mind spun through every possibility. If decay broke through during his fight and someone reported it to the Supreme Council, Lotus would find out. Since he was allied with Dain, Scar's worst enemy would definitely come for him.
And that… that meant death for him.
If he held back on the flames, the Supreme Council would kill him instead.
Even so, nothing left to lose. The one person worth living for was gone. Now he just had to survive long enough to get revenge.
Disoriented as he was from the news, he still knew he had to act… do something, anything, to save his head.