Torchbearer

Their talk about life came to an end, and Nuen turned to the crisis facing White Cliff Town.

"This boundless Grey Fog is woven from Chaos and Source Energy spilling out of the Spirit Realm. Caught between reality and the Spirit Realm, it's what we call the Interstice Gray Domain."

Nuen handed Xilian a telescope and began pointing out the stars scattered across the land.

"In the darkness, every point of light represents a city-state.

The largest and brightest Torchlight Lighthouse in the Civilized World is the Second Sun of Daylight Holy City. It shines day and night, and scholars use the reach of its light to divide the Civilized World into concentric regions."

A corner of the world slowly unfolded before Xilian's eyes.

"The area at the heart of the Second Sun's light is called the Flamecore Inner Ring. No Chaos power can arise there.

Beyond it lies the Inner Flame Outer Ring. The Second Sun suppresses Chaos power across that entire region, weakening it severely even when it emerges at night."

"Beyond that is the Outer Flame Frontier, where we live. Here, the Second Sun serves only as a landmark. It has no power to suppress Chaos."

Nuen gazed into the night, his voice bleak. "A dozen years ago, I could still see the Second Sun of Daylight Holy City clearly at night. It was like a twinkling star on the horizon. But over the years, its light has grown dimmer and dimmer.

It isn't that the Second Sun has weakened. The Interstice Gray Domain is growing stronger, eating away at the Outer Flame Frontier bit by bit. Before long, it may swallow White Cliff Town entirely and make it part of the Dark World."

"Look there, Xilian. See that tiny point of light?"

Nuen pointed in another direction, toward a light on the verge of going out.

"That light is Confluence City Hel, the closest city-state to White Cliff Town."

Nuen explained the task he wanted Xilian to undertake. "More than rebuilding the Clan, I hope you can reach Her City and bring back supplies and support for White Cliff Town."

"This is an age when city-states stand isolated from one another. But only by standing together can we survive."

Confluence City Hel.

Over the past ten years, Xilian had heard the name countless times. As the closest city-state to White Cliff Town, it had always represented the town's hope of enduring.

But Nuen had been White Cliff Town's only Torchbearer. He could not bear to leave its safety behind and make that distant journey alone, so the plan had remained on hold.

Until tonight, when Xilian had truly become a Torchbearer.

"There's no need to rush. You still need time to grow accustomed to your strength and learn more combat techniques."

Nuen smiled. He had smiled more tonight than he had in years.

"Many of the Sunflower Clan's records were lost in that siege, and others vanished during our escape. What remains is in my head, so you'll have to put up with my clumsy explanations."

"I didn't manage to save much," Nuen said apologetically. "Apart from that vial of blood and the sword in my hand, everything else is stored together."

"In that Iron Chest in the Armory?"

Xilian remembered the Iron Chest hidden deep in the Armory. A heavy chain was wrapped around it, and he had hardly ever seen Nuen open it.

When they were young, Tim had grown curious about what was inside and tried to pry open the lock. Nuen had caught him and given him a beating so severe that Tim had nearly lost half his life.

After that, no one had touched the Iron Chest. It had lain there undisturbed, almost forgotten.

"Yes. It's all the Clan has left, and you'll inherit it."

Nuen stepped onto the high wall and stood at its dangerous edge, as though he might fall at any moment.

"Want to try, Xilian? When you get a new sword, your hands itch to swing it. Don't you want to find out what you can do now?"

Nuen leaped from the wall. Seeing a body of flesh and blood drop among them, the Demons let out hoarse cries of hunger.

But before they could rake him with their claws, a crimson flash of sword light swept through them, severing heads and cutting bodies in half.

Nuen held his sword in both hands. Burning patterns covered his arms, and even his longsword looked red-hot, its edge gleaming with deadly crimson light.

With that single strike as he landed, Nuen carved a clearing through the mass of Demons.

An ordinary army would have lost its nerve and fled screaming from him. But Demons had no morale, and no minds. They kept coming like an endless tide.

Xilian had no intention of turning down Nuen's invitation. He gathered his courage, took a running start, and jumped from the wall.

Normally, a fall from that height would have broken his bones. With the power of the Resilient Body Trait, his legs merely went a little numb.

Unlike the Soul Marrow Trait, which belonged exclusively to the Torchbearing Path, the Resilient Body Trait was common to many Fated Paths.

There were many other shared traits like it. The Fated Paths crossed and intertwined, weaving a vast web that led toward godhood.

Xilian did not deliberately burn the Soul Marrow within him for a brief surge of greater power. He simply fought as he had trained to do: swinging his sword, cutting down enemies, taking their heads.

But this time, Xilian was several times faster, and his strength had plainly grown as well.

His sword wove a flurry of fierce, flashing arcs.

When the speeding blade struck a Demon's head, its hard, misshapen bones no longer trapped the steel. The blade sliced clean through. The body split open down both sides, spilling still-pulsing organs across the ground.

Bodies that had once terrified him burst apart one after another. Limbs and blood flew, then fell to the ground in streams that would burn to ash at sunrise.

Xilian crushed one Demon's skull beneath his foot and drove his sword backward through another's chest.

It shrieked and grabbed his blade. Xilian answered with a heavy straight punch that caved in most of its face. The force knocked it backward, pulling his sword free of its chest.

Xilian held his breath and focused. Gripping the hilt with both hands, he thrust into another Demon's abdomen.

He bent his knees and turned, heaving his sword upward as though throwing the creature over his shoulder. Cold steel tore through its abdomen, chest, neck, and skull.

Beneath that cold arc of steel, the Demon split in two and broke apart on the ground.

"We aren't just killing without purpose," Nuen said as he strode forward, cutting down Demons. "These are only the most basic Chaos creatures. There are many deadlier kinds that someone has to seek out and eliminate."

"Like that one!"

Among the countless writhing figures, Nuen found his target: a wolf-like Demon. It moved so quickly that its shape was hard to make out through the night and Grey Fog.

But Nuen never took his eyes off it.

He did not give chase. He held his ground, gathering power in his longsword. The heat within him rose sharply until a small flame sprang up at its tip.

He stepped, turned, and swung. A Burning Wind surged outward, lifting countless flecks of ash.

In an instant, the Demons were torn apart by the scorching wind. Even the strange wolf-like Demon could only howl in frustration as its skin and scales burned away. Its exposed bones blackened at once, and it joined the others as ash scattered on the wind.

The lingering heat left a field of fire before Nuen. Pure white flames danced there, stopping the Demons' advance.

"Demons pour endlessly out of the Interstice Gray Domain. Torchbearers have to cull them regularly to keep their numbers down."

Nuen swept his sword through another swath of Demons, like a farmer swinging a scythe through wheat.

"Once the number of Demons in an area reaches a certain point, they start devouring one another until they form a giant or even colossal Chaos creature. A creature of that size poses a grave danger to any city-state."

Xilian thought of the eel and the tentacles he had encountered in the Origin Sea. Either one appearing beside White Cliff Town would bring disaster.

"That's a Torchbearer's basic work.

Compared with followers of other Sages or Giant Gods, those of us who walk the Torchbearing Path are naturally more resistant to Chaos and better able to kill it.

To put it bluntly, the Torchbearing Path was born to fight Chaos."

Xilian understood now what it meant to be born to fight Chaos. The Grey Fog surrounded him, but this time he saw no visions and heard no phantom voices.

The bone-deep chill was gone. The evening wind simply felt a little strong, the air a little cool.

That was all.

Out of habit born of years of training, Xilian lit a torch anyway. Pure white light rose from it, driving away the last trace of the night's chill.

As he raised the torch high, an image suddenly came to him.

At the end of the Dark Age, people had seen warriors set out into the Dark World. They carried torches and fought with swords.

No one had known where those warriors came from. People had named them for the sight before their eyes—

Torchbearers.

At the thought, an indescribable feeling welled up in Xilian's chest, as though he had forged a bond of blood and felt a resonance deep within his spirit.

Before Xilian could dwell on that feeling, the familiar burning sensation returned to his left palm.

The Ouroboros Mark appeared again, still glowing molten gold.

Xilian had roughly worked out when the Ouroboros Mark would appear. Whenever it sensed Chaos power, it warned him with waves of burning pain and granted him some resistance to Chaos.

And now, even though Xilian had become a Torchbearer and possessed resistance of his own, the Ouroboros Mark still activated.

Besides its fierce hostility toward Chaos, the Ouroboros Mark also had some connection to the Origin Sea. That feeling was not burning pain but a deep warmth.

Xilian believed the mark must have helped him rise safely to the surface after he lost consciousness in the depths.

At the end of his time in the Origin Sea, Xilian had even felt the strange illusion that the sea was his "mother."

What do you really mean?

Xilian stared at his palm, baffled.

"What's that?"

Nuen's voice cut in, nearly making Xilian's heart skip a beat.

This time, Xilian did not hide his secret. Instead, he opened his palm to Nuen, showing him the entire mark.

"Teacher, do you know what this Ouroboros tattoo means?"

Xilian had told plenty of lies, but he hated lying to Nuen.

"I left out some details about the Wilderness Night, and about what happened in the Origin Sea... Anyway, the power in this tattoo has saved me at least twice."

Nuen said nothing. The heat within him seemed to rise, and waves of hot air washed over Xilian as though he stood before a furnace roaring into flame.

"I see..."

Nuen's expression grew complicated.

Unease seized Xilian, and he blurted out, "What is it, Teacher? You look like you're staring at a patient with a dozen terminal illnesses that somehow cancel each other out and leave him bursting with life."

Nuen ignored Xilian's rambling.

"I'm sorry, Xilian. I've hidden things from you too... about where you came from."

Nuen drove his longsword into the ground. Blazing heat erupted from beneath it and spread outward in a fan, pushing the fire to its limits and clearing the area.

"I've seen that tattoo's design before. It was on the iron coffin you were found in."

"Iron coffin?"

Xilian blinked, wondering if he had heard correctly.

"Huh?"