Chapter 98 - 15 Minutes of Flame

----- SOME TIME EARLIER--------

[What kind of abilities does this guy have, My Goddess?] he asked, kneeling in the dim glow of his cave. His voice carried a reverence, as if he dared not question her authority, yet his words pressed for answers; and though no one stood before him, he spoke as if she were right there.

The reply came swiftly, her voice laced with unwavering confidence. [There's one ability worth noting first: a newly acquired [Seed of Darkness]. It's still in its early stages, so it shouldn't pose much of a problem for you. The other is a passive called Dark Soul, which is tied to his immortality. It's a bit more unfair than your version, but with your skillset, you should have no trouble obliterating him—body and spirit.]

The voice lingered, cold and calculating. [He essentially revives every time he's killed, returning in perfect condition. That's the only thing you need to account for. Break his will to live, and even that will become null; as I'm certain you know. Aside from that, his skills are... how do you say it? "Utter trash" compared to yours.]

He furrowed his brow, his voice soft but insistent. [...Anything else I should know about, my Goddess?]

A sigh, filled with exasperation, echoed in his mind. [Very well,] she relented, her tone sharp and dismissive. [He only has one Active Skill; one that makes him swing his sword harder than usual. I haven't bothered to recall the specifics; it's that redundant. That's all. Get it done.]

Her presence faded, leaving the cave silent once more.

------------- PRESENT ----------------

'So, any sword he swings becomes a devastating force because of that skill?' Unicus's mind raced, 'It pierced my passive mana shield—500 stat points strong. That means it must multiply his strength by twofold... maybe more. Just how hard does he swing?'

He took a slow, measured breath, his posture relaxing as clarity washed over him. 'No need to overthink this. All I have to do is watch out for his sword. He, on the other hand, has to watch out...'

A smirk crept onto his lips. '...For far too many things.'

'You'll lose,' His thoughts darkened, sharpening into resolve. 'And then, I will take my rightful place by her side.'

Unicus then wiped blood from his face, [She underestimated you a little, Hellix.] His tone carried the weight of confidence, though his eyes narrowed as he regarded his opponent.

[Though, only a little.]

'No time to delay the inevitable,' he thought, raising his arm with purpose. The group instinctively stepped back as Unicus began to rise, flames roaring beneath him like a fiery tempest, propelling him effortlessly into the air. Heat radiated from his body, thick and suffocating, pressing down on those below as he aimed his hand at them.

'Compared to me, you're nothing. I am the strongest fire wizard this world—or any world—has ever known. My skills are beyond anything you could even comprehend. You're already dead, Hellix.'

"UNICUS!!!" Sylva screamed, her voice breaking, tears streaming down her face. "FIGHT!!! FIGHT WHOEVER'S TRYING TO CONTROL YOU!!! THIS ISN'T YOU!!!"

[Silence, girl,] Unicus replied coldly, his voice devoid of humanity. [I see this as an act of defiance. I thought of keeping you around as a plaything, but this seals your fate.]

His palm began to glow ominously as he spoke. [Turn into skeletons,] he declared.

Vaelthir's eyes widened, his long ears twitching. He understood immediately. Something devastating was coming.

They all felt it.

The way Unicus's voice echoed in their minds, bypassing the air itself. That dead, unyielding stare in his eyes left no room for doubt. He wasn't jesting. He wasn't bluffing. In mere seconds, they would all turn into skeletons, and there was nothing they could do about it.

Vaelthir moved without hesitation, leaping to Sylva's side and pulling her into his arms.

Yes.

Even the proud elf, known for his unshakable skill and confidence, did the only thing he thought possible. He shielded her with his body.

Because the truth was, he had respected Unicus—as both a man and a warrior. For someone as noble and proud as Unicus to speak with such malice, to wield such a foreign and twisted tone, was unthinkable. And now, they were trapped in the same cave that had already claimed sixteen lives—Unicus's own included.

What more could be done?

"Vaelthir...!!" Sylva gasped, her voice trembling.

Arnolt looked at the elf, his shock evident. Why? Why are you shielding her like that? Fight him! he wanted to yell. Do something, ya' arrogant prune! But deep down, he could feel it too.

And in the dwarf's eyes, there was no sentiment left—only inevitability. Yet, as a dwarf, there was one thing he knew how to do. He gripped his axe tightly and raised it, pointing it at the figure once called Unicus.

"YOU BASTARD!!! THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!!!" one of the human warriors suddenly screamed, his voice cracking in desperation.

The outburst startled them all. He turned, pointing an accusatory finger at Van.

"IF IT WEREN'T FOR YOU, WE WOULDN'T HAVE RETURNED HERE!!!" he bellowed, his voice filled with rage and despair.

The sight of the strongest warriors in the group losing faith had broken something inside him.

Savathon, towering above the others, could only watch silently. His height allowed him to see beyond the chaos, beyond the panicked faces. He saw him.

At the front, at the vanguard, Van stood firm, gripping his greatsword. The impossible odds before him didn't shake him. So like the dwarf, Savathon readied himself, gripping his last remaining khukri, prepared to strike at whatever came next.

Unicus watched them all, his lips curling into a smirk.

[Hmph,] he sneered, drinking in their despair.

'Intercept this, Hellix,' he thought, his eyes narrowing. 'This is one of my most overpowered skills. No one can see it. No one can stop it. And when you burn to cinders, the only thing left will be the ashes on those steel-covered arms of yours—the ashes of those you swore to protect. The ashes of those you swore never to leave behind.'

His smirk widened.

'And once you despair, I'll find you again. And I'll do it all over again to everyone you care about. My flames burn hotter than even the Demon Lord's. And maybe... maybe I'll fool around with The Demon Lord while I'm at it. After all, isn't that what Varolia wants? To break you?'

He chuckled darkly. 'No... After all, only Varolia is on my mind. I said to that elf girl I'd keep her just to break her spirit,' He thought, as if the Goddess can read his mind, 'When I return to Varolia after this, I'll ditch this body too. I'll be who I really am: Kota Kintaro, her one and only summoned hero.'

His eyes glinted as he raised his hand, his breath steady. The attack began to form, imperceptible, invisible, and near-instantaneous—the same spell that had wiped out Unicus and his entire expedition.

'Either way...' he thought, releasing the spell with a flick of his wrist.

'Die.'

"SKILL: [SKELETON HELL]."

"HARD SWING!!!" Van roared, his voice filled with defiance as his greatsword cleaved through the air with blinding speed. The swing struck with an audible force, almost as if it cut through something unseen.

[Hmph, how futile...] Kota mocked aloud, his tone dripping with disdain as he watched, expecting to see the group reduced to ashes.

The others shut their eyes tightly, bracing themselves for the inevitable. The weight of despair hung heavy in the air.

But nothing came.

No fire. No screams.

Just the fading echo of Van's shout. His skill versus Kota's.

Slowly, one by one, they opened their eyes, their faces twisting in confusion and disbelief.

'...What?' Kota thought, his brow furrowing as he glared at Van.

Van stood there, his chest heaving as he subtly huffed and puffed. His greatsword was still held firmly in place, its blade pointed downward, resting against the settling dust. The force of his swing had stirred the ground beneath them, leaving faint cracks where the air itself had been cleaved.

'I saw it,' Van thought, his eyes narrowing. 'Something black... it appeared from his hand. It looked like some kind of forcefield. Dark energy... The same type that warned me not to go into the cave earlier.'

Van's thoughts turned inward, instinctively recalling his newly acquired passive skill: [Seed of Darkness]. Its description had been vague, mentioning that it allowed him to interact with the energy of the arcane.

'So this is considered arcane, then?' Van thought, gripping his greatsword more tightly.

[Psche,] Unicus scoffed, his voice shattering the silence. His usual confidence was still there, but a faint edge of irritation crept into his tone.

Kota's expression hardened, his eyes narrowing into dangerous slits.

A wave of frustration rippling through him. 'That was supposed to take care of all of them. Damn it. Just fifteen more minutes until I can release the next wave.'

He sighed deeply, exhaling as his piercing gaze locked onto Van with growing intensity.

'Alright. You pissed me off.'

[I will say this,] Kota announced, his voice cutting into Van's thoughts like a sharp blade. His tone was unnervingly calm, almost casual. [In 15 minutes, I'll be able to use my skeleton skill again—it has this pesky cooldown time. And during those 15 minutes, I won't attack your... 'friends.']

Van's eyes slowly shifted upward from his status window, fixing on Kota.

A low grunt escaped his lips as he took in the unsettling honesty reflected in those words. The look in Kota's eyes wasn't mocking, nor cruel—it was disturbingly sincere.

'Why would he reveal his own weakness?' Van thought, his instincts on edge.

[Do you know why I'm giving you the courtesy of telling you this, Hellix?] Kota continued, his voice sharp, as if he could read Van's mind.

Van didn't reply, his expression darkening.

[Forget the fact that you can't do anything to me with your shit-tier skills,] Kota sneered, his gaze briefly flicking toward Van's status window, using his [Investigation] Skill that allows him to open others' status windows.

He scanned Van's skills and stats, a smirk tugging at his lips.

'[Hard Swing]... really? Varolia was right—it's as redundant as it sounds,' Kota mused, a quiet chuckle echoing in his thoughts. 'And that description... it's like the system itself is mocking him. Pathetic.'

He shifted his gaze, dismissing Van's status window with disinterest. 'The only things worth noting are [Seed of Darkness] and [Dark Soul], just as Varolia mentioned. But let's be honest, neither is a real threat. He can't do anything if I strike from a blind spot where he can't block. All he's managed to do is stall the inevitable.'

[It's because I want to see you struggle. I want to see you suffer. I want you to realize just how futile and meaningless your fight really is. For making The Goddess so frustrated with you, and—honestly? For some reason, just seeing you pisses me off. It's like every misfortune that falls on you makes me feel... alive. Hating you is euphoric. Freeing, even—]

"Will you shut up?" Van's voice cut through the air, sharp and unyielding.

The sudden interruption caught Kota off guard, his smirk faltering for just a moment.

"None of this is something I haven't heard before," Van said, his tone steady. He lowered his greatsword slightly, locking eyes with Kota. "Yeah, you're kinda strong. But you still act like a kid playing God."

Kota's eyes subtly narrowed, his arrogance bristling. [Are you trying to insult me by calling me childish?] he hissed. [I am about to vaporize you and your spirit completely.]

Van shook his head, his expression calm.

"I am also childish," Van admitted, his tone softening slightly. "Magus—the guy who was transported to this world with me—was the same. Childish and cruel. I guess it's an aspect we all share, we transmigrators," he murmured.

Without another word, Van turned his back to Kota, his greatsword dragging slightly as he walked. He didn't even bother to look at Kota long enough to register his reaction.

"Van..." Ami called hesitantly from the group.

"Who... who are you?" she asked, concern etched on her face.

"Ami, stay back," he replied coldly, causing her to gasp. Yet, she complied silently, her lips trembling as Van addressed the rest of the party.

Sylva slowly emerged from Vaelthir's embrace, her tearful eyes fixed on Van as he spoke. She clung to Vaelthir's arm, not daring to let go entirely.

"If any of you get in the way, he will target you. And even if he doesn't, we've never—not once—coordinated attacks or fought together," Van said, his voice steady but firm. "If we all fight at once, our attacks will likely hit each other because of our inexperience as a group. And if it's my attack, you'll suffer serious damage."

'Why is he saying this... as if he's so used to situations like these?' Ami wondered, her concern growing with each word he spoke.

"Van," she finally said, her voice trembling but resolute. "I trust you."

"Once more, you make a point," Vaelthir added, nodding with quiet approval.

'A transmigrator... I see now,' Vaelthir thought, his sharp gaze fixed on Van. 'I'd heard rumors of another being summoned alongside Magus Veil. So it was him all along. If that's the case, he's the only one here capable of standing against whatever has taken over Unicus.'

His expression hardened with resolve as he turned to Sylva, who clung to him, her breaths uneven and tearful. Gently, he patted her arm.

"Please, Hellix," he said, his voice calm but firm.

Sylva didn't respond, too overcome with emotion. Vaelthir stroked her hair softly, holding her close as he spoke once more.

"Put him to rest," he said solemnly, his tone carrying both the weight of his respect and the hope of their survival.

"Though if ya' croak," Arnolt spat, his rough voice breaking the moment, "we'll beat 'im for ya'. So don't try too hard, noble brat." He turned away, his movements abrupt, concealing his expression from the others.

"...And try not to croak," Arnolt added quietly before stepping back to join Vaelthir and Sylva. He paused for a moment, glancing at Van. "I want to talk to ya' about yer sword and armor... after all this."

"Brat," Savathon called out, his deep voice resonating through the air. His draconic eyes locked onto Van with an unwavering stare. "I have misjudged you time and time again," he admitted, his tone softer now. He gave Van a subtle nod, his slit-like pupils momentarily and deliberately blinking at him.

"You're a warrior in my eyes," Savathon said quietly before turning away, his two human warriors falling into step behind him.

One by one, the others followed suit, disappearing out of sight—Vaelthir guiding Sylva gently, Arnolt walking with a sharp but silent gait, and Savathon leading the group. Finally, Ami trailed behind, glancing back at Van one last time before vanishing from view.

'I had it all wrong,' Sylva thought as tears welled in her eyes. 'That man isn't Van Hellix's son. He... he is Van Hellix.'

Her fists tightened as she trembled, struggling to make sense of it all.

'There has to be more to what happened with my mom. I...' Her thoughts spiraled as her vision blurred with tears.

'I'll talk to him about it later. So,'

Her chest heaved as she took a deep, shuddering breath.

'He has to survive.'

"I-I don't know much about Van, but he is strong!" Ami called to Sylva, noticing her quiet sobs. "He will beat him!"

[...13 minutes left, Hellix,] Kota grimly reminded him. His voice was steady, cold. [And I hope you haven't forgotten—the entrance is still sealed. Once those minutes are up, I will drag you back to them before I kill you.]

Van turned slowly to face him, his expression unreadable beneath his helmet. "There's something I still don't get," he said, his voice low. "Just answer me this before we begin."

Kota raised a brow, his tone dismissive. [... Alright. Since you'll die anyway.]

Van paused, his eyes narrowing as he stared into Kota's cold gaze—still wearing Unicus's face.

'I... What exactly was I going to ask him?' Van wondered, his grip tightening on his greatsword.

How did you mimic pain so well? Why did you have it in your eyes earlier?

The questions lingered in his mind, but he dismissed them almost as quickly as they formed.

'No. those are just excuses for what I really feel. I honestly don't care how he did it, or who he is as a person. What I really want to know is...'

How did he fool me into believing that so well?

Van's expression darkened. 'I guess I'm no less susceptible to emotional manipulation than anyone else. Just like the girls. Just like everyone.'

A bitter realization swept over him, unrelenting, as the faces of Amoria, Lalyn, Marcy, Mika, and Rika flashed in his mind.

'And what I'm feeling right now—this anger, this humiliation—is what they'll feel if Magus ever truly dies and his mind-control passives fade.'

"Never mind," Van said aloud, his voice colder, sharper. Slowly, he raised his greatsword, pointing it directly at Kota.

'I'm furious about being played like a fiddle,' he thought, the bitterness twisting deeper with every passing second; though his eyes couldn't help but linger for a moment on the wedding ring still adorning Unicus's finger.

"I've wasted enough time," Van said, his tone hard as steel as he steadied his stance, shifting his gaze to Kota's eyes. "Let's do this."

Before Kota could respond, Van disappeared, reappearing in front of him in an instant, his greatsword raised for a devastating vertical slash.

[Hmph,] Kota grunted mid-air, unfazed by the sudden attack.

"[HARD SWING]!" Van roared as his blade descended.

In response, Kota lazily cast [Fire Shield Armament], encasing his sword in fiery mana to block the incoming strike.

CLANG!

The clash echoed through the cavern as Van's greatsword slammed into the flaming shield. Sparks erupted, and the sheer force cracked the energy barrier, but it didn't break.

Hovering mid-air, Kota looked at Van with a bored expression, his sword still pressed against the flaming shield.

[Boring. Are you really going to rely on that pathetic skill over and over?] Kota sneered, glancing briefly at the cracked shield. [Sure, it increases your strength and speed significantly—but only during the swing. And now, I've blocked it. [Fire Shield Armament] is one of my weaker shields, by the way. I can cast them endlessly, as long as I have mana.]

He smirked, his voice turning condescending. [Speaking of which, I also have a passive that refills my mana by 70% every five seconds. You can't beat me—]

Kota's monologue was cut short by another ferocious shout.

"[HARD SWING]!" Van roared once more, his greatsword pressing down with sudden, overwhelming force.

'Wait, what...?!' Kota's eyes widened in shock as the intensity of Van's strike tripled without warning.

The shield shattered.

The force of the blow sent Kota flying backward, crashing into the cavern wall with an earth-shattering impact. A dust cloud erupted, filling the air as the wall cracked from the collision.

Kota coughed, his body slamming against the unyielding rock. Flames flickered around him as he hovered, propelled by the fire beneath his feet.

From below, Van landed with quiet precision, his movements calm and deliberate. Dust swirled around him as he began to walk toward Kota, his greatsword gripped tightly in hand, its blade scraping against the ground with a low, ominous drag.

Kota emerged from the dust cloud, his face twisting in frustration as he glared down at Van.

'That bastard... He can chain that skill from any position?!' Kota thought, his flames flaring with newfound rage.

Van's steady, deliberate steps exuded a quiet confidence, his gaze fixed unwaveringly on his opponent from the shadowed depths of his helmet.

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