The Third Use of the Residual Flame

"I am the strongest person in the world."

Lude said earnestly, "Although it's not yet the case."

"Hahaha..."

Moke couldn't help but laugh. He wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth:

"Good, then you have to work hard, so that I can tell others that my teacher has taught a good student who can fight the strongest person in the world for a minute!"

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

"[Voodoo Kingdom · Child of Adulthood], if you stab the same enemy three times in a row with this sword, the enemy will suffer a serious injury that can kill a mortal."

"Be careful, if you stab someone else, the count will reset. Remember..."

"Cough cough..."

Moke coughed twice more and waved his hand: "Pull out your sword."

Smiling calmly, he stopped Lude, who was about to speak, and Moke said softly, "I have an adrenaline pump, Professor Beshe installed it for me. It's no problem to support me to live for a few more minutes. In the last moments, let me be alone with my teacher, please."

"...I respect your choice." Saying that, Lude pulled out the Dragon Tooth Sword.

Watching the blood gush from Moke's wound, Lude took a few steps back to the stairs and lit a cigarette.

He listened intently as Moke's heartbeat and breathing gradually faded, finally falling silent.

"...?"

Lude frowned, looked back at Moke, a hint of vigilance and confusion in his eyes.

Moke was undoubtedly an Arcanist.

When an Arcanist is killed, they will definitely drop Residual Flame.

Matos's Residual Flame had already been dropped when he committed suicide earlier; it was a light red flame.

But Moke hadn't dropped any Residual Flame yet.

What was going on? A faked death?

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

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

Something was wrong. Lude frowned tightly.

Logically speaking, even a spellcaster should not survive with a broken neck.

Unless...

Lude was stunned, then looked at the Nail Sword he was holding in his left hand.

I remember this thing was the materialized product of Moke's secret art?!

Thinking this, Lude swung the Nail Sword in the air a couple of times. The weapon felt quite obedient.

So, Moke's Remnant Fire didn't drop because it had been completely handed over to Lude?

"Oh..." Lude looked at Moke, who was lying on the ground, with some apology.

Sorry, old man, for taking a few more bullets...

I don't know if the cemetery in Blackwater Town is expensive. If the price is within my means, I will definitely help you and your teacher to be buried.

But then again...

Lude weighed the Nail Sword in his hand. If this was formed from Moke's complete Remnant Fire...

Then, could the third use of the Residual Flame stored in the Heart of the Furnace be to forge alchemical items with some of the original owner's pre-death secret art effects?!

The more Lude thought about it, the more he felt this was not impossible.

After all, the Heart of the Furnace was named after a furnace and was a treasured alchemical relic valued by Professor Beshe.

Therefore, the core function of this thing might really be to smelt alchemical items!

As for why this third function had not been activated yet... Lude guessed it was due to a lack of raw materials for alchemy. After all, no matter how versatile a smelting furnace was, it couldn't violate the law of conservation of mass. Even a skilled cook can't cook without rice!

Moke's Nail Sword was intact because he had directly given it to Lude with his obsession.

This meant that although his [Remnant Fire] was titled [Remnant], it was actually complete. Therefore, the spiritual energy in the Remnant Fire directly helped this Nail Sword stabilize its existence, allowing it to remain in the material world for a long time.

However, for those Remnant Fires whose power had partially dissipated, they had to be forged into a form that could remain in the material world through alchemy.

Perhaps this was the method for creating alchemical items with unique abilities—every alchemical item produced meant a spellcaster was brutally slaughtered. No trade, no killing?

What was he thinking? It definitely wasn't like that. Not everyone had a Heart of the Furnace that could collect Remnant Fire!

However, it seemed that Lude felt he might have to go find the Collector.

After all, the Collector was the only person Lude knew of who explicitly collected a large number of extraordinary items.

There might be alchemical items among them, or there might be spellcasting materials. The latter was Lude's goal.

Lude guessed that if he could collect certain specific spellcasting materials, he might be able to trigger the initial awakening of the Heart of the Furnace's power. Although this guess had no basis, the guess itself was the basis.

After all, the Heart of the Furnace was lodged within Lude's mind; it was entirely possible that this very thought had originated from the Heart of the Furnace itself.

This world was truly too metaphysical. The fact that Sally's sixth sense had previously detected a gaze that even Lude had failed to notice was already a testament to that.

Just then, with a sudden bang, the front door of the restaurant was violently kicked open by a figure.

After crashing through the door, the figure rolled across the floor and took cover behind a damaged table, then poked his head out, waving a double-barreled shotgun around the room as he roared:

"Nobody move! You are all surrounded! Surrender immediately, it is your only way out! You lot, you, you, you..."

As the Tribune caught sight of the uniform Lude was wearing, his tongue suddenly tied itself in knots. After stuttering a few "yous," he fell completely silent, his face turning deathly pale.

Lude stood amidst the wreckage, straightened his Obsidian Hall uniform coat, then walked over to the dumbfounded Tribune and patted him on the shoulder.

"Rapid response, and your tactical movements were quite standard. Keep up the good work, and you will be promoted."

"Yes, sir!" The Tribune's face flushed red as he flipped his palm upward to deliver a military salute to Lude.

Lude grimaced inwardly; he didn't like this Rhine Kingdom salute at all. What was the point of flipping the hand up like that? It lacked spirit—do it again!

However, on the surface, Lude maintained a stern expression. He spoke, "Mr. Tribune, spies from the Khalid Sultanate had infiltrated this place. They have now been captured, and my colleagues have already sent them to Vienna, but I will have to trouble you with the follow-up work."

"It is no trouble at all!" the Tribune said hastily, which made Lude feel that this tiger skin was becoming increasingly useful.

Next, Lude pointed to Matos and Moke lying on the ground: "Those two were my colleagues. They were ambushed by the enemy and died heroically here."

"I still need to track the leads on the spies, so I don't have time to take them back. Could I trouble you to select two decent burial plots in town for me? I can pay."

As he spoke, Lude reached for his wallet, but the Tribune hurriedly pressed his hand down: "Sir, it's just a burial plot; there is no need for you to pay!"

"Just wait, I will contact the church immediately and ensure the best possible funeral is arranged for these two honorable gentlemen!"

Having successfully gotten a freebie, Lude nodded with satisfaction: "I appreciate the trouble."

Watching the officer go off to explain the situation to the onlookers gathering on the street, Lude let out a slight sigh of relief. He knew the matter here was concluded, so he stepped onto the stairs and headed toward his private room.

However, the moment he pushed open the door to the room, he couldn't help but stop in his tracks.

Sally's small frame was curled tightly in the corner, her pretty face filled with terror and hatred. She clutched the pistol Lude had given her, the muzzle trembling as it pointed directly at Lude.

"Oh my, oh my." Lude raised an eyebrow: "This is truly..."