The air within the mountain was alive.
It pulsed like a great heart, each beat echoing through the stone corridors that led Ryo and Caro deeper into the hollow. The faint orange glow of molten rivers beneath the glass floor flickered against their faces — a dance of light and shadow that made everything feel both sacred and forbidden.
Ryo walked ahead in silence. The mark upon his chest glowed faintly beneath his torn shirt, responding to every whisper of power that moved through the cave. Caro followed close behind, her eyes darting nervously from one glowing wall to another.
Every step they took seemed to hum with ancient energy. The very air pressed down on them, heavy and hot, as if the mountain was testing whether they were worthy to breathe within it.
The Descent
The staircase behind them had already sealed. Only one path remained — forward, into the heart of the mountain.
Caro's voice broke the silence.
"Master… this place doesn't feel alive. It feels like it's watching."
Ryo glanced back at her. His face was calm, but his eyes carried that quiet storm that had followed him ever since he remembered the truth of his blood.
"Maybe it is," he said. "The Flame was born from the eyes of the gods. If they ever looked upon this world again… this is where they would begin."
The cavern opened wider the deeper they went, revealing bridges of stone suspended over rivers of glowing magma. Above them, the ceiling shimmered faintly like the inside of a vast crystal dome. The sound of their footsteps was swallowed by the endless hum of energy beneath.
Then, they saw it.
At the far end of the cavern stood a colossal gate — obsidian carved with veins of gold, alive with light. The sigil on its surface pulsed in rhythm with Ryo's heartbeat, responding to him as though it recognized its master.
Caro whispered, "It's the same mark… the same as yours."
Ryo nodded slowly. "The Flame is calling."
The Chamber Opens
He stepped forward, placing his hand upon the black stone. The symbol on his chest flared in unison. For an instant, the whole mountain seemed to inhale — and then exhale.
The gate split open with a thunderous sound, flooding the cavern in pure, golden fire.
Caro shielded her eyes. "Master—!"
Ryo took a single step inside. The heat didn't burn him; instead, it wrapped around him like light that remembered his name. When Caro followed, she gasped.
The chamber of the First Flame was beyond anything she had ever imagined.
It was vast, almost endless — walls covered in spiraling runes, each glowing with the soft radiance of creation. In the center stood a towering brazier, holding a flame not of gold or red, but something older — shifting between crimson, silver, and divine white.
The light didn't just shine; it breathed.
And with every breath, Ryo felt his veins respond.
The Flame's Voice
He stepped closer, the mark on his chest now glowing bright enough to cast shadows on the walls. The air trembled. Then, a voice filled the chamber — neither male nor female, but both, ancient and vast.
"Ryo Asskar… blood of the lost flame."
Ryo froze. Caro instinctively knelt, trembling under the weight of that voice. It wasn't just sound — it was command, the kind that could unmake worlds.
"You have walked through betrayal, through blood, and through the ashes of gods," the voice continued. "Do you seek to reclaim what was taken from your house?"
Ryo raised his head. "I don't seek vengeance. I seek truth — and the strength to end this curse."
The flame flickered brighter.
"Then step forward, heir of fire. Let your blood remember."
The Trial
Ryo took one step closer. The ground beneath him flared with light — a circle of divine symbols surrounding his feet. Caro tried to move to his side, but an invisible force pushed her back.
"Master!" she cried, struggling against it.
Ryo turned his head slightly. "Stay back, Caro."
"Ryo, please—"
He smiled faintly — tired, resolute. "If this is what I was born for… then I have to face it."
The flame roared to life.
In an instant, it leapt from the brazier, swallowing Ryo in fire. The heat was unbearable, yet he didn't scream. His mark flared so brightly that it outshone the flame itself.
Caro fell to her knees. She could see him through the inferno — his silhouette shaking, burning, changing.
The air split with a sound like a heartbeat turned to thunder.
Inside the fire, Ryo saw visions — his father's face, his mother's dying smile, the blood-soaked marble halls of Asskar. And through it all, King Deros's laughter echoed like poison.
The pain became memory; the memory became fire.
He shouted, voice raw: "I am not your curse!"
The flames turned white.
Caro's Sacrifice
Then the fire shifted. It began to spread outward — toward Caro.
"Ryo!" she screamed, as the wave of divine heat rushed toward her.
Without thinking, she ran into it.
The force threw her back, but she pushed forward again, her arms shielding her face. The light was blinding, but she didn't stop. She reached out and grabbed Ryo's hand.
The moment their fingers touched, something changed.
Ryo's burning aura slowed. The fire's rage softened, dimming to a trembling glow. The mark on his chest stabilized, its frantic pulse steadying into rhythm with hers.
Through the flame, he heard her voice, faint but clear.
"Don't leave me, Master… You promised."
Her tears evaporated as they fell, turning into sparks that merged with the light.
Ryo's eyes widened. He realized the truth — the Flame wasn't testing his strength. It was testing his heart.
He clenched her hand tighter, pulling her close.
"No more sacrifices," he said through gritted teeth. "Not for me."
He turned toward the core of the flame and thrust his hand into it.
The Awakening
The chamber erupted in light.
For a moment, everything dissolved — time, pain, even sound. Only light existed, wrapping around both of them, gentle and infinite.
When the brilliance faded, Ryo stood in the center of the chamber, unharmed. The mark on his chest was no longer crimson, but gold edged with white. The fire in the brazier had vanished — absorbed into him.
Caro lay on the ground nearby, breathing weakly. Ryo knelt beside her, his hands trembling.
"Caro…?"
She blinked, dazed. "Did… we survive?"
He smiled faintly, helping her up. "You did more than that. You saved me."
The mountain was silent now — not dead, but at peace. The molten rivers below flowed slower, calmer, as if bowing to him.
Ryo looked down at his hands. They glowed softly, the divine fire pulsing within his veins.
The Flame's Oath
Then, once more, the voice of the Flame echoed — softer now, almost reverent.
"Bearer of the First Flame… the world burns and bleeds in your absence. Let your fire cleanse it — or consume it."
Ryo lowered his gaze. "I will not be like him."
"Then prove it."
A sudden wind surged through the chamber. The runes on the walls faded, leaving only darkness. A single ember floated upward, landing on Ryo's palm. It pulsed once — and vanished into his skin.
Silence returned.
Caro looked at him, still pale. "What now, Master?"
Ryo turned toward the gate, his expression unreadable. "Now… we go back. The world will feel this flame soon enough."
As they began to walk toward the exit, the mountain behind them trembled — not in anger, but in acknowledgment. Far away, in the capital of Salmara, the skies briefly flickered gold, and King Deros felt the echo of a power he thought he had buried forever.
He rose from his throne, hand trembling slightly over his scarred face.
"The boy…" he whispered. "The fire answered him."
Outside, the dawn broke again — crimson and gold spilling across the horizon.
Caro leaned on Ryo's shoulder, exhausted. "Was it worth it?" she asked softly.
Ryo looked at the rising sun — the same color as the mark burning faintly on his chest.
"Yes," he said. "Because now… the gods will remember their heir."
And as the wind swept over the mountain, the faint voice of the First Flame lingered in the air, ancient and eternal:
"The fire of Asskar burns once more."