A fresh prompt flashed in front of him, the words searing into the blackness beyond his vision.
[Soul Artifact detected.]
Leon’s sneer widened—slow and angular, like the shine of a blade picking up firelight.
[Soul artifact detection process initiated...]
[Soul Artifact: Soul Flame detected.]
[Soul Artifact integrating into host body... Integration start.]
His brow furrowed. "Soul... flame?" he said, the word not familiar in his mouth, like it belonged somewhere else. His voice held a whiff of interest laced with distrust. He had no idea what the devil it was—yet—but the moment the system talked of integration, the air about him changed.
Out of nowhere, space in front of him warped, like heat ripple.
Then it materialized.
A flame—no, not red, not orange, not anything mortal eyes are meant to behold.
Not dark—black so complete that it consumed the light that surrounded it. It burned with an inhuman quiet, each flicker choreographed, as if the fire itself were animate and sentient of him. It was lovely in a manner that made the flesh creep, terrifying like seeing a star implode in slow motion.
Not smoke. Not shadow. Flame. Actual flame—although its hue was the void, an all-consuming chasm. It lapped at the air without warmth, without heat, without compassion.
Leon’s breath was caught in his chest. Muscles contracted involuntarily, each nerve tightening like a predator catching wind of death. A chill ran down his spine, twisting within his belly. He’d never known such fear—not in combat, not even on the precipice of death itself.
It was not a thought—it was instinct. A primal, old warning howling through his blood: you must not be here.
It seemed as though that dark fire could crawl inside of him, snag into his soul, and tear it right out of his chest to satisfy its hunger. If he looked too long, he knew he’d be drawn into it, consumed whole, lost forever among the fires between the flames.
The flame writhed slowly through the air, its path hypnotic.
Then—suddenly—it attacked.
It burst forward like a striking snake, a bolt of darkness hurtling straight for his chest.
Leon’s eyes went wide. Panic hit him, raw and smothering, instincts shouting move. But there was no time to yell, no time to catch his breath—
The black fire hit him straight in the chest. The blow took his breath, a hard spark that caused his hands to dash down instinctively. His head jerked down, fear flaring in his eyes as he frantically searched for burns—blistered skin, charred flesh, any indication of damage. He tensed for pain. But nothing came. Not even a mark.
A chime sounded within his mind.
[Soul Flame successfully integrated with host body.]
Leon froze, rooted to the spot, still trying to process what just happened. Integrated with his body? He didn’t feel... anything. No pain, no warmth, no change. Just the hollow shock of not understanding.
What the devil...?" he growled. Then his voice turned hard. "Hey, System," he drawled, each word laced with suspicion, "what the devil do you mean? I don’t notice anything different. And what the devil is that abominable thing you just jammed into me? And what the devil is this Black Flame? You got me some horror story crap—"
The system replied, smooth, almost like a human.
[Host, you requested something outside of rules. Something potent. I provided you with it.]
Leon’s eyebrows furrowed. "What do you mean outside of rules?"
[The Soul Flame is the strongest flame in the entire universe. Fifth place on the Flame Chart.]
His face tightened immediately. ".What the fuck do you mean ’fifth on the chart’?"
[It means what you’re thinking.]
He pinched his eyes together. "So why don’t I feel any different? Don’t speak in riddles—"
[The same reason that you don’t feel your own blood circulating. If you try to attune yourself to it, you will. If not, it will stay silent.]
Leon’s face contorted. ".That is not a response. Attempt to express it in human language."
The system literally sighed. [Host, attempt to call it the same way that you call your regular fire element.]
For the first time, Leon heard frustration in its tone, but he didn’t pay attention to the tone—just the response. He opened his hand and called upon the flame element of the air.
A dancing fire erupted on his palm... red and orange. Warm. Ordinary.
He frowned. "This? This is just a normal flame! Not the black terror you stuffed into me."
[Host, sometimes you need to be more mature.]
His gaze narrowed perilously. "Repeat that—"
[Think on your heart. Then access the fire element once more.]
He looked at the interface for a very long time, then slowly breathed out and closed his eyes. His perception dropped inward—beneath the thud of his pulse, beneath the familiar flow of energy—until it brushed against something cold. Something foreign.
Fire erupted to life once more, but it wasn’t like it had been. No red. No yellow. No white. It was black—raw, choking black. A darkness so profound it would appear to swallow the light it surrounded, sucking on the edges of his mind like a whirlpool driving them below.
Leon’s eyes went wide. He sensed it—something intangible in the air being devoured, taken away. It wasn’t mana. It wasn’t stamina. It was something so much more personal.
A chill ripped through him. His knees weakened, sending him crashing to the cold stone floor. His breathing shook with the increasing pull, each passing second stripping something essential from within him.
[Host—kill it. Now!] The system’s voice barked, crisp with desperation.
His body responded before his mind did. The flame disappeared in less than the time it takes to beat a heart.
Leon fell forward, both hands against the chilled stone. He gasped for breath, each inhale rough and irregular. Sweat plastered his skin, trickling down his temple.
What the... fuck..." he croaked, his own breath jagged and coarse. A sheen of fine sweat coated his skin, his chest heaving as if he’d crawled out of a war-torn battlefield. "I haven’t been this exhausted since before I consumed the Aqua Silver Flower. My endurance’s not supposed to be finite. What in the world did you administer to me?"
The system’s voice entered his mind— serene. Too serene.
["Host, the Soul Flame can incinerate the soul itself. It can murder immortals. It is infamous for a reason."]
Leon’s head jerked up hard, eyes narrowing. "...Infamous?"
["Its previous holders were all... troublesome. Heart-core villains of the universe, and all of them ended up dying in a terrible way."]
His eyes snapped up even harsher this time. "...Huh?
["The power is great, but the price of harnessing this flame is high—it devours all. Stamina. Mana. Energy. And ultimately. even the user’s soul. Use it without control, and it will suck you dry to death."]
["I suggest you not try to wield this flame until you can harness it completely."]
Leon’s jaw tightened, his knuckles going white as he clutched his knee. "You complete and utter bastard. You gave me something that makes me either a Krailech overpowered... or a corpse. I wanted power—not a ticket to becoming a criminal or a corpse."
["If you control it, you will have one of the most powerful weapons in existence. You’ll have a weapon dreaded throughout worlds."]
"...And if I don’t?" He sounded flat, gutted to the core.
The system stalled. [..."Then you will join the list of names who failed."]
Leon was looking at the lighted-up interface, wide-eyed. "You mean all the people who’ve ever laid hands on this thing all ended up tainted... became criminals? So it taints its user."
["Perhaps. Perhaps not. It’s up to you. The wielders of Soul Flames were oftentimes those who held revenge, dark depths in their hearts, or desires that they were unable to contain. The weak-willed are devoured. If you don’t wish for that to be your end. never allow your will to falter. Weak wills fail. Strong wills persevere."]
His lips compressed into a hard, thin line. Inwardly, his mind cursed the system repeatedly for giving him this double-edged death warrant. But after a moment, he let out a slow breath, his tone firm.
"...Fine. If I do have it, then I’ll master it. I’m not here to die to some accursed fire. I’m here to live my new life to master... and live completely."
["Good."] There was a faint suggestion of confidence in the system’s tone.
Leon nearly disliked saying so, but this—this subtle change of personality, this nearly human manner in which the system had begun to speak—it was becoming somewhat endearing. Even if it remained a pain in the butt.
["One more thing, Host."]
He blinked cautiously. ".What?"
["Don’t use the Soul Flame more than ten seconds per hour."]
His forehead furrowed. "Why?
["In a 24-hour period, your overall safe time is 240 seconds—four minutes. If you go over ten seconds in any one hour when you’re fighting, you’ll fall down. This flame requires more discipline than any other element. The less discipline you have, the quicker it destroys you... saps all from you."]
["Then, I suggest you don’t use it until you’re a master—and don’t go over the time limit."]
Leon glared, his golden eyes tightening, face frozen somewhere between surprise and frustration. "...You actually gave me a tool... and then slapped a timer on it?"
["I’m keeping you from killing yourself, Host."]
His throat emitted a dry, humorless grunt. "...Good. I’m finished speaking with you. But I promise—one day, I’m going to dance with this fire until I hold it utterly."
The system didn’t even bother to dispute.
Leon exhaled slowly and let himself fall backward, the back of his head hitting the cold stone floor with a muted thud. The surface was unforgiving, yet grounding. He stared at the ceiling in silence, letting his muscles loosen after days of tension. His thoughts drifted, unbidden.
"By the way... how many days have passed while I’ve been going through all this? The bloodline, the physique, this flame."
Ten days. Heavy. Interminable. But for each bruise, each ache. During which time, he had taken the line of the Ancient Human for himself, awakened the Velvet Tyrant Physique, and struggled with a flame so deadly that the majority would shy from it before they would even try to hold onto it.
A small smile played on his lips.
He whistled low, the note almost a laugh. Ten days of pain and change. Ten days which had made him not only stronger, but something much more deadly. In his possession now seethed a force which most in the universe would kill to have—or die in a desperate attempt at avoidance.
A smirk ghosted across his mouth. Maybe Rias is already in Blackthorn City... or Nastha. Maybe Mia’s mother is free by now. The war...
His gaze refocused on the stone above him, slow and certain. "Now... it’s time to end this war. And start something new. A kingdom. Nagareth. And I’ll be Leon Nagareth."
[New name registered in database. A nice surname, Host.]
Leon’s grin deepened, sharp and sure. "Damn right."
With a slow, regulated breath, he pressed himself upwards, his legs folding crosswise across the chilly floor. The black flame remained within him, not burning, but quiescent, like a shadow poised to move. His hands were on his knees as he started to extend through the link, touching Nova and the others.
For the moment, the war might wait a few minutes longer. With his wearily smiling face that didn’t quite succeed in concealing the cutting edge in his eyes, he was ready to listen to what message they brought.