Ember Reborn: The Flame That Defied Fate

Crunch!

Crack!

Snap!

The sickening sound of bone fracturing echoed like thunder in the hush that followed.

The chicken skewer merchant's body ballooned grotesquely, his limbs twisting at unnatural angles. Flesh split and reknit, skin stretched taut like canvas over something monstrous growing beneath. His head snapped back, eyes gleaming an ominous purple as veins—black and pulsating—webbed across his face like cracks in porcelain.

"D-Dale! This isn't the time to be ordering chicken skewers!" Iris shouted, horror flickering in her widened eyes.

"I'm aware," I replied, stepping back smoothly.

Even if I tried to laugh it off, there was no pretending anymore.

'This isn't normal.'

My instincts flared as I extended my senses.

There it was—a revolting, sticky pressure that clung to the air like wet cobwebs.

Demonic energy.

Visible now through the ragged tears in the merchant's shirt was a glowing black sigil—one of the demon's marks, etched into flesh like a brand.

'He's transforming... no, he's already lost control.'

Demonic Beastification.

A cursed fate for those who couldn't suppress the corrupting power of the demon's mark. Overcome by unstable energy, their minds and bodies twisted, mutating into feral, mindless beasts.

'But the Demon God's seal hasn't been broken... this shouldn't be happening.'

Since the Great Sealing, the residual marks left in the world had been inert, dangerous only in proximity to massive surges of demonic influence. Even when awakened, they rarely led to full beastification.

Which meant only one thing.

'Someone forced this rampage.'

Before I could investigate further, the thing that had once been a man let out a guttural snarl.

"GrrrRAAA!"

The vendor lunged, smashing through his own stall in a frenzy, sending skewers and wood splinters flying. His massive arm swung toward me like a wrecking ball.

"Watch out, Dale!" Iris cried out.

"Yes," I said calmly, stepping forward instead of back.

"It's dangerous—for him."

Berald Martial Arts. Technique Four: Heaven Flip.

I caught the beast's arm mid-swing, twisted my waist, and used its own momentum to slam it headfirst into the ground. The stone cracked beneath the impact, dust spraying out.

Before it could rise, I grabbed a fallen skewer, channeled mana into it, and hurled it straight into the back of its head.

Crack!

The crude weapon pierced the skull cleanly, embedding itself into the flagstone beneath.

"D-Dale, was that…?" Iris stammered.

"A demon," I confirmed, brushing dust off my cloak. "Or rather, a demon-turned-beast. Someone triggered the transformation."

"But why—"

BOOM!ROOOAAARR!

Screams. Shouts. The crackle of fire. The festival exploded into chaos around us.

"Aaaahhhh!""What's happening?!""Demons! Demonic beasts!"

One after another, grotesque figures burst forth—once-human vendors, spectators, and even a few cadets, all bearing the same cursed sigil, succumbing to beastification.

'So it wasn't an isolated incident… It's a coordinated attack.'

"Damn it."

I looked around. Magic flared indiscriminately, cadets—half-drunk, unarmed—scrambled to respond.

"Hey! You can't use fire magic here, there are still civilians—!"

"I don't have a choice!"

"Where's my sword?! I left it back at the dorm!"

Misguided heroism was everywhere. Some fought valiantly, some blindly flailed, and others ran.

Panic.

Absolute chaos.

And in the center of it all, demonic beasts rampaged through the academy grounds like predators in a pen of sheep.

"Dale!" Iris pointed toward the crowd. "The children—they're at the main gate!"

"Camilla's with them," I replied. "But she won't be able to protect them all alone."

We turned and sprinted.

The main gate was a battlefield.

Dozens of children were huddled together, crying, while Father Antonio stood in front of them, trying to maintain order. Camilla slashed at incoming beasts, bloodied but unyielding.

"Camilla!" Iris called.

"Lady Saint?!" Camilla gasped in relief before blocking a charging beast's claw with her sword. "Get behind me!"

A massive arm swung at her like a club.

But Camilla ducked low, and with a precise upward slash—

Slash!

—severed the arm clean off.

"GRAAAGH!"

The creature reeled back, shrieking. But the scent of blood only drew more.

They weren't just after Camilla anymore.

They were headed for the children.

"N-No—!" Iris cried.

I stepped forward, mana surging in my veins.

"Camilla, cover the left side. Iris, guard the children!"

"Got it!""Yes!"

The nearest beast pounced.

Berald Martial Arts: Moonfall Palm.

I leapt, palm glowing with red-orange light, and struck the beast midair. Its bones caved under the impact, sending it flying into a tree, which split in half.

I landed in a crouch, scanning the battlefield.

Too many.

There were at least six demonic beasts closing in from all sides, and dozens more causing havoc inside the festival grounds.

I clenched my fist.

'No more holding back.'

I had been careful—too careful—to hide the power of the Primordial Flame. But if I didn't act now, these children wouldn't survive.

I reached deep.

Into the part of me that had once burned everything down.

Primordial Flame—First Embers.

My heart shuddered, the world dimmed—and then my aura burst alight in silent fire. It radiated not heat, but pressure. A sunless, suffocating blaze.

The beasts paused.

Even they could feel it.

I stepped forward, dragging my foot along the earth. A crescent trail of scorched grass marked my path.

"You monsters picked the wrong day to show up."

A beast lunged—and vanished in flame. I was already in front of it, palm still raised from the strike.

The next one roared and charged.

I ducked under its swing, twisted, and slammed both hands into its core.

BOOM!

It burst into ash midair.

Within seconds, the area around the children was cleared.

Camilla stared wide-eyed. "That flame… Dale, what—?"

"I'll explain later," I said, turning toward the festival grounds. "This isn't over yet."

Far away, a bell tolled.

Emergency protocols. Late, but not too late.

Reinforcements were arriving.

But as I scanned the chaos beyond the gate, I caught sight of a shadow moving atop the school walls. A robed figure, watching us with glowing eyes.

Then it vanished.

'So that's the one pulling the strings.'

This attack wasn't random. It wasn't meant to kill.

It was a message.

A warning.

I clenched my fists tighter.

If they wanted a war, I'd give them one.