NOVEL WEB Chapter 25: The Red Flame and the Broken Crown
The Hall of Fire
Ash still hung heavy in the air, a memory refusing to fade.
The walls groaned, blackened by magic and screams.
Aaron moved like a shadow slipping through smoke, a low, pulsing flame glowing in his palm—not weakness, but absolute control.
His pale blue eyes burned with unbreakable resolve.
Beside him, Mirell gripped a short blade, her breath calm as the sea before a storm.
Their steps reached the heart of the burning hall.
There he stood.
The Captain of the Royal Guard.
But no longer a man.
His armor blazed cursed red, fused to flesh—cursed fire writhing like an open wound that refused to heal.
> "Skyborn," the captain muttered, voice heavy with ancient rage, "You burn with stolen truth."
Aaron raised his head, steady and unwavering.
> "And you burn with a lie that isn't yours."
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⚔️ Clash of Flames
The captain surged forward—a storm of wrath, his sword coated in red flame, hissing like a serpent whispering betrayal.
Aaron answered with a surge of blue fire, slicing through shadows.
Their flames collided—not just fire, but legacies clashing.
Aaron's flame was like thought itself: twisting, bending, branching like lightning.
The red flame struck like blind fury—brutal, raw, and voiceless.
With each blow, dark echoes bit into Aaron's mind:
Falling cities, children buried beneath banners, and a whisper searing his thoughts:
> "Burn them before they question."
Aaron staggered, footing faltering.
The captain smiled coldly.
> "Now you see the truth. Fire was never truth. It was fear set aflame."
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🔥 Breaking the Curse
Aaron's breath caught—then steadied.
The journal pressed to his chest, a heartbeat alive with his mother's words:
> "Fire is memory. Fire is voice."
He stood tall, eyes narrowing in defiance.
> "No. Fire is what you choose to make of it."
He unleashed a flame from his palm—not forward, but into the earth beneath them.
Ancient glyphs flared to life around them.
Skyborn runes glowing bright.
The red fire screamed, twisting and thrashing—but the memory-born flames of the runes sliced through the curse, unraveling it like silk beneath torrential rain.
The captain's armor cracked, and he collapsed to his knees.
Beneath the helmet… a broken man.
Terrified. Tears melting into ash.
> "They said I'd become stronger…"
Aaron's voice was ice.
> "You were just quieter."
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👁️ The Survivor with the Cracked Mask
From the rubble emerged one—the Cracked Mask, one of the few councilors left alive.
She stared at Aaron, torn between awe and fear.
> "You… burned a king's guard."
Aaron's voice was steady.
> "No, I burned a lie."
She stepped closer.
> "You could claim the throne now."
> "I don't want the throne."
She asked, curious:
> "Then what do you want?"
Aaron looked at her—and smiled for the first time, clear and genuine.
> "A kingdom that does not forget."
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🕯️ Final Scene
In a secret chamber beneath the palace, Lucien stood beside a throne made of ash.
In his hand, a torn page from Elira's journal.
He whispered:
> "He found it."
A shadow beside him replied:
> "Good. Now let's see… if he will burn with it—or because of it."