The Third Use of Residual Flame

"I'm the strongest person in the world."

Lude spoke earnestly. "Well, not yet."

"Haha..."

Moke couldn't help laughing. He wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth.

"Good. Then you'd better keep at it. That way, I'll be able to tell people my student was taught by me, and could hold his own against the strongest person in the world for a whole minute!"

As he spoke, he patted Lude's right hand, which was gripping the Nail Sword. "Let this sword give you a hand."

"[Voodoo Kingdom · Child of Adulthood]. If you stab the same enemy three times in a row with this sword, they'll suffer a grievous wound fatal to an ordinary person."

"Be careful. If you stab someone else, the count starts over. Remember..."

"Cough, cough..."

Moke coughed twice more and waved a hand. "Pull your sword out, please."

He smiled calmly, stopping Lude from speaking, then said softly, "I have an adrenaline pump. Professor Beshe installed it for me, and it can keep me alive for a few more minutes. For the little time I have left, let me be alone with my teacher. Please."

"...I respect your choice." With that, Lude yanked out the Dragon Tooth Sword.

Watching blood gush from Moke's wound, Lude backed away a few steps and stopped by the stairs. He lit a cigarette.

He listened closely as Moke's heartbeat and breathing gradually faded, until at last there was only silence.

"...?"

Lude frowned and looked back at Moke, wariness and confusion flickering in his eyes.

Moke was undoubtedly an Arcanist.

When an Arcanist was killed, their Residual Flame was bound to emerge.

Matos's Residual Flame had appeared when he killed himself earlier. It had been a pale red flame.

But Moke's Residual Flame still hadn't appeared.

What was going on? Was he playing dead?

Lude didn't hesitate. He drew the pistol at his waist, aimed it at Moke's throat, and pulled the trigger six times in a row.

But even as Moke's throat was shot through, his Residual Flame still didn't float out.

Something was wrong. Lude furrowed his brow.

By all rights, even a spellcaster couldn't survive with a broken neck.

Unless...

Lude froze, then looked at the Nail Sword in his left hand, which he was gripping backward.

Wasn't this thing the tangible manifestation of Moke's Secret Art?!

With that thought, Lude swung the Nail Sword through the air twice. The weapon seemed quite docile.

So Moke's Residual Flame hadn't emerged because it had already been handed over to Lude, whole?

"Oh..." Lude glanced apologetically at Moke, who lay on the ground.

Sorry, old friend. I made you take a few extra bullets...

I wonder if the cemetery in Blackwater Town is expensive. If I can afford it, I'll make sure you and your teacher are buried together.

But then again...

Lude hefted the Nail Sword in his hand. If this was what Moke's complete Residual Flame had transformed into...

Could the third use of the Residual Flame stored in the Heart of the Furnace be to forge alchemical artifacts imbued with some of their original owner's Secret Art?

The more Lude thought about it, the more plausible it seemed.

After all, the Heart of the Furnace had "furnace" in its name, and Professor Beshe had regarded it as an Alchemy Relic.

So it was entirely possible that its core function was to smelt alchemical artifacts!

As for why this third function still hadn't activated... Lude guessed it was because he lacked the raw materials needed for Alchemy. Even the most versatile smelting furnace couldn't defy the law of conservation of matter. You couldn't make something out of nothing!

Moke's Nail Sword had remained whole because he'd handed it directly to Lude through sheer will.

That meant his Residual Flame, despite the word "residual" in its name, was actually complete. The Psionic Energy within it had directly stabilized the Nail Sword's existence, allowing it to remain in the Material Realm for a long time.

But for Residual Flames whose power had already partly dissipated, Alchemy would be needed to forge them a form that could remain in the Material Realm.

Perhaps that was how alchemical artifacts with unique abilities were made—one Arcanist had to be slaughtered for every artifact produced. No buying, no killing?

What was he thinking? That couldn't be right. Not everyone had a Heart of the Furnace that could collect Residual Flames!

Still, Lude thought he might have to pay the Collector a visit.

After all, as far as he knew, the Collector was the only person who clearly possessed a large number of supernatural objects.

There might be alchemical artifacts among them, or spellcasting materials. The latter were what Lude was after.

Lude guessed that if he could collect certain specific spellcasting materials, he might be able to awaken the Heart of the Furnace's power to some extent. He had no evidence for this theory, but the theory itself was evidence.

After all, the Heart of the Furnace resided in Lude's mind. Perhaps the idea had come from the Heart of the Furnace itself.

This world was just too mystical. Sally's sixth sense had detected someone watching Lude earlier, even though he hadn't noticed a thing. That alone proved it.

Just then, with a bang, someone slammed through the restaurant's front door.

After crashing through it, the figure rolled behind a broken table, then poked out his head. He waved the double-barreled shotgun in his hands frantically around the room and roared,

"Nobody move! You're surrounded! Your only way out is to surrender right now! You... you... you, you, you..."

As the Tribune recognized the uniform Lude was wearing, his tongue suddenly tied itself in knots. After stammering out several "you"s, he fell completely silent, his face turning deathly pale.

Lude stood amid the wreckage and straightened his Obsidian Hall uniform coat. Then he walked over to the stunned Tribune and patted him on the shoulder.

"Your response was quick, and your tactical movements were by the book. Keep up the good work, and you'll be promoted."

"Yes, sir!" The Tribune flushed and saluted Lude with a military salute.

Lude grimaced to himself. He didn't like the Rhine Kingdom's salute at all. What was with flipping the hand up like that? It looked so limp. Do it again!

But on the outside, Lude maintained a stern expression. "Tribune, spies from the Khalid Sultanate infiltrated this place earlier. They've been captured, and my colleagues have already taken them to Vienna. But I'll have to trouble you with the follow-up."

"No trouble at all!" the Tribune replied hastily. This only made Lude appreciate how useful this borrowed authority was.

Then Lude pointed at Matos and Moke, who lay on the ground. "Those two were my colleagues. They fell into an enemy ambush and died bravely here."

"I still have to follow up on the spies' trail, so I don't have time to take them back with me. Could you please pick out two good plots in town for them? I can pay."

As he spoke, Lude reached for his wallet. The Tribune hurriedly stopped him. "Sir, it's just two plots. There's no need for you to pay!"

"Wait here. I'll contact the church right away and make sure these two esteemed gentlemen receive the finest funeral!"

Pleased at getting it all for free, Lude nodded. "Sorry for the trouble."

As the police chief went to explain things to the gawking crowd that had gathered outside, Lude let out a small breath of relief. He knew things here were settled, so he climbed the stairs and headed for his booth.

But the moment he pushed open the booth door, he stopped in his tracks.

Sally's small figure was curled tightly into a corner. Terror and hatred filled her pretty face as she clutched the pistol Lude had given her earlier, its trembling barrel aimed at him.

"Oh my." Lude raised an eyebrow. "Well, this is..."