Wielding Flame

In the Sky Divine Domain, Uranus stood in midair.

His hand slowly opened, the cluster of flame divine nature pulsing in his palm. Orange-red light seeped from it. This was the weak divine nature he had extracted from Nairmis.

But in his hands, everything was different.

Uranus lowered his head to look at his palm, a cold smile tugging at his lips. He remembered seeing the flames in Proeon last night, and then a thought struck him like lightning.

If this flame were large enough, if it fell from the sky and covered the earth.

He wanted the world to know the God King's majesty once again. He wanted everyone to know that the God King was not to be provoked.

The Goddess of Night thought she could control the fate of all living beings just by giving birth to three Goddesses of Fate, so he would use a fire to tell them who truly controlled fate.

Let the night know no peace, let the earth wail amid the flames, let the divine powers of sleep and death fall into disorder because of it, and let the entire Underworld be thrown into turmoil.

He would make Gaia and Nyx know the price of defying him.

Uranus raised the flame divine nature before his face, frenzied golden light surging in his eyes.

The laws of the King of the Gods thundered within him, granting this tiny piece of divine nature power beyond its original limits. Though it was only temporary, though it was only a rain of fire, it was enough.

"Burn."

He opened his palm, and flame divine power turned into countless orange-red fireballs that shot out from the sky and poured down toward the earth.

On the banks of the River of Fate, Clotho turned her spindle, silver threads of fate flowing out endlessly. Those threads hung from the spindle, were gently measured as they passed Lachesis's winding ball, and were then guided into the distance.

Atropos sat at the very end, her scissors resting on her knees, unused for the moment. She watched her elder sisters work, her gaze calm.

"It has begun," Clotho suddenly said.

The spindle in her hand paused slightly. A newly spun silver thread slipped from it, but instead of drifting into the distance like the other threads, it dropped straight onto the river, lightly touching its surface.

Ripples spread, and an image appeared on the water: orange-red fire rained from the sky, crashing onto the earth, while living beings wailed and died in the flames.

"Uranus has made his move." Lachesis glanced at the markings on her winding ball. The length of that silver thread matched the node of fate exactly. "Just as we arranged."

The three goddesses exchanged glances and smiled at the same time.

They sat on the banks of the River of Fate, holding the course of every living being's thread of fate in their hands. Uranus thought he wielded fate, thought a rain of fire could prove that he was the one who controlled everything.

What he did not know was that, from the moment he raised the flame divine nature, he had already stepped into the net fate had woven.

In the Earth Divine Domain, Gaia sat on a stone couch, her hands clasped on her knees. She could feel the impact of every fireball landing on the earth. She was in pain.

Her face was pale, fine beads of cold sweat seeping from her forehead, but she did not collapse.

Of course she knew what Uranus meant. This was his revenge. Gaia turned her gaze toward Proeon. Now it was up to that golden-haired god.

On the earth, the rain of fire was so dense that there was nowhere to flee. When it struck a forest, it ignited the entire woodland; when it struck a river, it evaporated the entire waterway. Elves and beasts fled from their caves.

Falling fireballs blasted fish in the sea belly-up, and vast stretches of the sea's surface filled with cooked marine creatures.

Wails rose from every corner of the earth. Living beings ran, rolled, and died in the flames.

Some were burned to charcoal, some suffocated in the thick smoke, and some leaped into rivers in despair, only to discover that the entire river was boiling.

It was pure pain, pure despair, a pure torrent of emotion.

And at that moment, in Proeon, Nairmis was at the center of that torrent of emotion.

He sped through the rain of fire, dodging. He saw the woods to his left catch fire and the grassland to his right burn black. The stream ahead had already dried to its bed, where several fish lay roasted dry.

He heard the elves' cries faintly coming from the direction of the cave. Those little ones must have been terrified.

He heard living beings farther away, all across the earth, wailing in the flames, those lives giving their final, heart-rending cries.

Nairmis clenched his fists. This was the fire he had brought.

That first flame of light he had brought to the world's night by drilling wood to make fire-he had once been proud of it, had once used it to bring warmth to Proeon, had once watched the elves sit around the fire, singing and dancing.

Now it was burning everything down.

"...My fault."

His voice caught in his throat. A fireball whistled over his head, and he instinctively twisted aside to dodge, only to stumble over a broken stone underfoot.

In that single instant of hesitation, another fireball came from the side, hurtling straight toward his face. It came too fast for him to dodge.

Nairmis raised a hand to shield his face, and the fireball stopped before his palm.

The orange-red flames split apart on their own, scattering into the surrounding grassland. They ignited a few clumps of bushes, then went out.

Nairmis froze. He lowered his hand and looked down at his palm, only then noticing that those flames seemed unable to hurt him.

He stood up. A spark of wisdom flashed deep within his consciousness, and he suddenly understood something.

He looked up at the sky again. This time, he carefully sensed the power at the source of that rain of fire. He sensed the aura of that cluster of flame divine nature, burning in Uranus's palm.

Though it had been extracted from his body, that divine nature had already grown powerful enough to reach a critical point, and it remembered him.

It remembered who had brought it into the world. Uranus's power was forcing it to burn, but at its very core, a glimmer of light was still calling to its master, Nairmis.

When he sensed this, a scorching current surged into his chest. It was the pain and despair of the living beings in the sea of fire, transformed into divine power. At that moment, his emotion divinity shook violently and advanced to a third-class divinity.

Nairmis could feel the flame divine nature's call even more clearly. He drew a deep breath and shot into the sky.

The fireballs falling from the sky scattered on their own as he passed. He rose against the rain of fire, finally stopping in midair.

He saw Proeon burning, saw the earth burning, saw countless living beings struggling and rolling in the sea of fire. Then he spoke.

"I am Nairmis, master of emotions, born from the feelings of all things."

"By drilling wood to make fire, I brought the first flame to the world. That flame lit the dark corners and brought living beings sleep with full bellies."

"Flame was born because of me, burns because of me, and should also be revered and cherished because of me."

"Therefore, I shall be the God of Flame, wielding authority over all flames in the world!"

As the final sentence fell, the laws trembled. In the Sky Divine Domain, the flame divine nature in Uranus's hand suddenly leaped.

The God King looked down. That orange-red cluster of divine nature was trembling wildly. He instinctively closed his hand, trying to grip it, but the divine nature broke free between his fingers, turned into a streak of light, and shot toward the earth.

Uranus reached out to seize it, but caught nothing. That cluster of flame divine nature plunged straight into Nairmis's chest.

Nairmis's body jolted violently as that divine nature merged with him once more. It burned within Nairmis, and then a second-class flame divinity appeared.

Nairmis was dazed for a moment, but that daze lasted only an instant. His gaze returned to the earth, to those living beings still struggling in despair amid the flames.

Nairmis raised his head, meeting head-on the pressure bearing down from the sky. Uranus was coming, his killing intent pouring down without concealment.

But Nairmis did not retreat. He stood where he was and continued speaking, his voice resounding throughout the world.

"I am Nairmis, God of Flame, wielder of authority over all flames in the world."

"From tonight onward, no flame that is to be born in this world may appear without my consent."

"Now, all flames, heed my command. Go out at once."

The instant the final word fell, a wave of flame divine power spread from Nairmis's body. Wherever it passed, the flames silently curled inward, finally turning into wisps of smoke and dispersing.

All the flames went out, and night shrouded the world once more.

In the sky, a golden figure was rapidly approaching.

Nairmis sensed the terrifying power bearing down on him, but he did not panic. He had already thought of a countermeasure.