NOVEL WEB Chapter 16. Flame Unyielding
Quest name: Camplight.
Hey kid it's your favorite Archdemon of Blood here and I got a quest for you here since you haven't started resistance training yet fire. If you can get the skill Heat resistance Lv5/10 within the time limit I will send you two new skills that will help you out in the future guaranteed. Put up a good show I have some guests watching you with me.
To help you get started after you accept the quest I am temporarily lending you a magical tool to help you start fires, control them, and watch the temperatures. Even though you can see heat signatures you can't tell how hot it is. If you manage to get great results during this first trial I may even through in something special for you.
Do you accept?
Yes/No
The time limit is one week starting after you accept the quest. Rewards: Two H-ranked unknown skills of your choice.
As I sat in the quiet depths of my cave, surrounded by the faint glow of magic my mind buzzed with newfound knowledge and the weight of a pending decision. The quest from the Archdemon of blood, a being with whom I had forged a pact, beckoned me with promises of power and rewards.
The task seemed deceptively simple on the surface—raising my lesser heat resistance to a specific level—but the implications of the quest extended far beyond its apparent simplicity. The Archdemon's gaze, ever watchful and calculating, added a layer of unease to the situation. Initially, my instinct was to refuse the quest outright. The idea of being scrutinized by powerful entities, their intentions veiled in shadows, stirred a sense of caution and reluctance within me. Yet, as I mulled over the potential benefits and consequences, a determined resolve took root within my mind.
I made preparations with meticulous care, clearing space in my cave for the elemental energies I would soon harness. Fire and air, essential elements for survival and manipulation, required a controlled environment to prevent disaster. Gathering a plethora of wood, sticks, and bark, I ensured a ready supply for the coming trial. The decision to accept the Archdemon's quest weighed heavily on my mind, but with the preparations complete and newfound confidence in my abilities, I resolved to embrace the challenge. The allure of potential rewards and the opportunity to uncover unknown skills spurred me forward, even as caution whispered warnings in the back of my mind.
As I rested briefly before accepting the quest, I thought about whether doing this would have any benefit to me really or was just some sick game by the whisper and the demon. I slapped my face and accepted the quest.
Accepting the quest from the Archdemon of blood was a decision not made lightly, but as I committed to the task, a strange and unsettling transformation occurred within my cave. The wood and materials I had gathered for elemental preparations vanished in an instant, replaced by an ominous object that sent a shiver down my spine—an imposing chair crafted from molten rocks, adorned with chains intended for restraining someone.
Approaching the chair cautiously, I observed its details with a mix of fascination and apprehension. The molten rocks glowed with an inner fire, pulsating with raw elemental energy that seemed to respond to my presence. The chains, though solid and foreboding, held a certain allure, whispering of ancient rituals and tests yet to be undertaken.
Infernal Ascension Throne: The chair, crafted from molten rocks and adorned with ominous chains, served as more than a simple seat—it was a device designed for torment and trial. Its primary function lay in torturing enemies while keeping them alive throughout the entire process, a grim testament to the depths of magical manipulation and cruelty. However, what set this chair apart were its adaptable abilities, allowing the controller to set it to different stages tailored for specific ranks and levels of endurance. This customization hinted at a sophistication beyond mere torture; it spoke of precision and control over the ordeal inflicted upon those bound to its fiery embrace.
The being wielding control over the chair held immense power, not just in inflicting pain but also in determining the extent of suffering based on the victim's resilience and endurance. The ability to halt the chair's operations existed, a mercy of sorts, but with the caveat of a two-day cooldown period, emphasizing the gravity of its usage. Yet, hidden amidst the darkness of its intended purpose, lay a glimmer of opportunity for those daring enough to tread such perilous paths. By subjecting oneself to the chair's torturous embrace, a person could gain resistance in two specific skills. It was a dangerous gamble, trading agony for empowerment, and it required a strong will and a clear understanding of the risks involved.
The options available to fuel the Infernal Ascension Throne showcase a range of strategies and costs, each offering unique advantages and considerations.
Fire MP: Directly channeling fire mana into the chair provides the most efficient and potent fuel, ensuring optimal performance and output. However, it also depletes your magical reserves, necessitating careful management and consideration during prolonged use.
Burnable Materials: Utilizing natural resources like wood, sticks, and bark offers a sustainable albeit less potent alternative to fire mana. While it may not provide the same level of power as direct mana infusion, it can suffice for lower levels of operation and extend the chair's functionality without draining your personal mana reserves.
Non-Fire Magic Conversion: Harnessing non-fire magic to power the device offers versatility but comes for 5 MP for every two points of fire MP generated. While it allows for conserving fire mana, it requires careful management of resources and may pose a challenge for practitioners less proficient in non-fire magic.
Absorption from High Fire Elemental Areas: Tapping into ambient fire elemental energies in specific locations offers a potentially limitless and sustainable source of power for the chair. However, it requires venturing into dangerous or inhospitable environments and may not always be feasible depending on circumstances and accessibility.
Utilizing the high fire elemental energy in your surrounding area emerges as the recommended option for fueling the Infernal Ascension Throne. The ample availability of such energy significantly extends the chair's operational time, offering 19 days and 5 hours for continuous usage. Additionally, your proactive gathering of burnable materials has proven beneficial, augmenting the chair's fuel reserves and increasing its operational time to 19 days and 16 hours. This strategic approach ensures a reliable and sustainable source of power for the chair, mitigating concerns about energy depletion during critical tasks or extended sessions. With these preparations in place, you can approach your tasks with confidence, knowing that the Infernal Ascension Throne is fueled adequately to support your endeavors.
This is a cautionary note about higher stages consuming more fuel from the Infernal Ascension Throne underscores the importance of strategic usage and conservation. Starting with stage 1 Level 3 is a prudent approach for a being with your level of resistance to heat. To begin please sit on the chair open the menu and select stage 1 level 3. Each stage and level has a certain amount of time before it can be ended without incurring a two-day penalty cool down.
Made by Demonic Smith Rank A. Name???
The heavy silence of the chamber enveloped me as I settled into the ominous embrace of the Infernal Ascension Throne. Doubt and determination warred within me, the gravity of potential failure weighing heavily on my mind. With a resigned resolve, I bypassed the recommended starting point and initiated Stage 1 Level 1, bracing myself for the ordeal ahead.
As the chair's mechanisms hummed to life, an unsettling message about a safe word flashed briefly, leaving only the initial letter visible to me "O" etched in my memory. I sighed, a mixture of apprehension and determination coloring my thoughts. The path ahead was clear—endure, succeed, or face dire consequences.
The metallic clink of chains echoed through the chamber, snapping into place with an ominous finality. My limbs were ensnared, immobilized by the chair's unforgiving embrace. A sudden, searing pain shot through me as the chains tightened, and I gasped, my breath hitching in my throat. The sensation was beyond description—wicked needles digging into my flesh, each point a reminder of the trials ahead. The chair's infernal magic coursed through me, amplifying the heat around me with relentless intensity. Sweat beaded on my brow as I clenched my jaw, refusing to yield to the torment.
The initial surge of heat was bearable, a precursor to the inferno building within the chair's enchantments. But it was the insidious injection from the needles that brought torment to a visceral level. Fire, metaphorical and yet agonizingly real, seared through my veins, igniting every nerve ending with white-hot intensity. Something had just made my lesser heat resistance turn off.
Minutes stretched into eternity as I endured the crucible of pain and heat, each passing second a testament to resilience and desperation. Through gritted teeth, I focused on the task at hand, channeling determination to withstand the onslaught and emerge stronger. As the torment of the Infernal Ascension Throne intensified, my mind raced with desperate thoughts. The timer's merciless countdown to Stage 1 Level 2 loomed over me like a specter of impending agony. Sweat-soaked and trembling, I struggled to maintain focus amid the searing pain and confusion.
Every minute felt like an eternity as I wracked my mind for the elusive safe word, a lifeline amidst the fiery ordeal. Panic threatened to overwhelm reason as I grappled with the realization that time was slipping away, carrying me closer to greater torment. The infernal needles continued their merciless assault, injecting waves of searing agony that threatened to unravel my resolve. Each heartbeat synchronized with the ticking of the timer, marking the dwindling moments before the chair's mechanisms would escalate the torment to unbearable levels.
Through gritted teeth, I uttered fragmented words, testing them against the pain-addled haze in my mind. "Oblivion... Oath... Oracle..." The words echoed hollowly, devoid of the relief I desperately sought. With each passing second, despair gnawed at the edges of my determination. The flames licked hungrily at my resolve, testing the limits of my endurance and resilience. In the crucible of agony, clarity seemed a distant dream, and the weight of failure threatened to crush me.
As the timer ticked relentlessly towards the inevitable escalation, I closed my eyes, delving deeper into the depths of my consciousness. Images and memories flashed by in a blur, fragments of experiences and words intertwined in a desperate quest for the elusive safe word.
The sting of failure hung heavy in the air as the Infernal Ascension Throne's torment ceased abruptly, granting me a brief respite. A bitter taste of defeat mingled with the lingering ache of the infernal needles, a testament to the price of uncertainty and hesitation in the face of adversity.
The chair's message offered a grim choice: a mere ten-minute break before the next level's torment or a prolonged continuation of the first level, affording more time to recuperate before facing the escalating trials. Exhaustion weighed heavily upon me, both physical and mental reserves depleted by the ordeal. Each breath felt labored, each heartbeat a reminder of the precarious balance between perseverance and collapse. With trembling hands, I considered the options before me. The allure of a longer rest beckoned, promising a chance to gather strength and focus for the challenges ahead. Yet, the specter of time loomed large, a reminder that every moment of respite carried a cost in the relentless progression of the chair's torture.
In a moment of clarity amidst the haze of pain and fatigue, I made a calculated decision. The first level would continue, but this time, I would steel my resolve and endure beyond previous limits. The price of failure had been paid, and the lesson learned, but surrender was not an option. As the chair recalibrated for the extended trial, I braced myself, drawing upon reserves of determination and resilience forged in the crucible of adversity. The countdown to the chair's next phase began anew, each second a measured breath, a whispered vow to persevere and overcome. The break, though brief, offered a chance to center my thoughts, to reaffirm my purpose amidst doubt and fatigue. The flames of determination flickered anew, fueled by the recognition that the journey ahead demanded unwavering resolve and decisive action.
With the timer ticking down once more, I steeled myself for the next wave of torment, knowing that within the crucible of fire and pain lay the potential for growth, mastery, and the elusive safe word that would grant a reprieve from this infernal trial.
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The passage of time blurred into a relentless cycle of agony and fleeting relief as I traversed Stage 1 Level 3 repeatedly. The chair's mechanisms, honed to perfection in their cruel design, exacted a toll that tested the very limits of my endurance and sanity. Each increase in level brought with it a doubling of pain, a relentless onslaught that threatened to consume both body and spirit. The looming uncertainty of what awaited in higher stages cast a shadow over my determination, a fear lurking at the edges of my consciousness.
Yet, amidst the torment, the promise of rewards whispered seductively, a beacon of hope amid suffering. It was a fragile thread of motivation that I clung to fiercely, a reminder of the sacrifices made and the goals yet unattained.
As hunger gnawed at my senses, the appearance of the feeding tube became a welcome ritual, punctuating the grueling trials with moments of culinary delight. The subtle improvement in taste after each level was a small mercy, a testament to the chair's intricate design and the unseen hands orchestrating this infernal dance. The respite provided by the delicious blood offered a reprieve, a bittersweet distraction from the unrelenting heat and agony. Each sip brought a modicum of comfort, a fleeting moment of pleasure amid the crucible of pain.
With each passing cycle, I found resilience in adversity, and a stubborn determination to endure and succeed despite the odds stacked against me. The chair's torment became a crucible of transformation, shaping not just physical endurance but also mental fortitude and unwavering resolve.
Yet, beneath the veneer of determination lay a growing dread—a fear of what lay beyond the known thresholds of pain and suffering. The thought of higher stages and their potential horrors threatened to erode my resolve, a silent menace that lurked in the darkest corners of my mind. But for now, as the cycle repeated and the taste of blood offered solace, I steeled myself for the inevitable escalation, knowing that each step brought me closer to the coveted rewards and the elusive safe word that promised respite from this infernal ordeal.
As the timer inexorably reached zero, signaling the transition to Stage 1 Level 4, I faced a pivotal choice. Despite the looming dread of increased torment, I steeled myself and accepted the challenge, driven by the promise of rewards and the unyielding determination that had carried me thus far. With the chair's mechanisms recalibrating for the next stage, I gratefully embraced the one-hour respite granted to rest my weary mind and body. Each moment of reprieve was precious, a chance to steel my resolve and fortify myself for the trials ahead.
The cave echoed with a somber stillness as I took stock of my physical and mental state. Fatigue weighed heavy upon every limb, the accumulated pain a constant companion that whispered doubts and fears in the recesses of my mind. Yet, amidst the shadows of uncertainty, a flicker of determination burned bright—a resolve to press forward, to confront the unknown with unwavering courage. The rewards promised tantalizingly on the horizon served as beacons of hope, driving me to endure and overcome.
As the hour passed in measured breaths and silent contemplation, I drew strength from within, drawing upon reserves of resilience forged through trials endured and sacrifices made. The taste of blood, though fleeting in its distraction, lingered as a reminder of the fleeting pleasures amid adversity.
When the appointed hour had elapsed, I braced myself for the impending escalation. The chair's mechanisms hummed to life once more, a symphony of torment and determination echoing through the chamber. With a steadying breath, I settled into the familiar embrace of the Infernal Ascension Throne, steeling my mind and body for the crucible that awaited. The flames of determination burned bright, a beacon of defiance against the encroaching shadows of doubt.
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As the relentless trials of Stage 1 Level 4 pushed my body and mind to their limits, exhaustion finally claimed me, and I slipped into unconsciousness. The chair, attuned to the subtle shifts in my condition, responded with a merciful cessation of its tormenting heat and injections. In that vulnerable state of rest, a protective barrier materialized around me, a testament to the chair's intricate design and its guardianship over my well-being. Shielded from external threats, I slept soundly, unaware of the unseen forces at work, tirelessly sustaining and nurturing me even in slumber. The passing hours drifted by unnoticed, a respite from the relentless trials and agonizing pain. The chair's unseen mechanisms ensured a steady supply of nourishment.
When I finally stirred from my deep sleep, nine hours had passed—an interval of rest that felt both fleeting and profound. The protective barrier dissipated, leaving me with a sense of renewed vigor and clarity, the echoes of torment fading into memory. The protective barrier's existence remained shrouded in mystery, its intervention during moments of vulnerability hidden from my conscious awareness. Unaware of the chair's unseen guardianship.
As consciousness reclaimed me from the depths of slumber, a jolt of realization surged through my weary mind—the infernal trials of Stage 1 Level 4 had reset, plunging me once again into the crucible of pain and suffering. The chair's mechanisms, relentless in their design, offered no respite from the escalating torment. Pain, sharp and unyielding, clawed its way back into my senses, a grim reminder of the challenges that lay ahead. Each needle's sting, each wave of searing heat, bore witness to the unforgiving nature of the chair's trials, a testament to the resilience required to endure and prevail.
Hours stretched into eternity as I navigated the escalating stages once more, each repetition a test of willpower and endurance. The chair's intricate enchantments, honed through countless iterations, orchestrated a symphony of torment and challenge, pushing me to the brink of physical and mental limits. Yet, with each passing cycle, a subtle transformation unfolded—a hardening of resolve, a deepening understanding of pain and perseverance.
With each passing cycle of agony and determination, a transformation unfolded deep within me—a fusion of quiet determination and cold anger that steeled my resolve like tempered steel. The relentless trials of the Infernal Ascension Throne were not just tests of power but crucibles of character, shaping the very essence of my being amidst the fires of adversity. The chair's mechanisms, honed to perfection in their cruel design, pushed me beyond physical limits, delving into the depths of mental fortitude and resilience. Each needle's sting, each surge of searing heat, fueled a resolve that burned brighter than the flames that surrounded me.
As the hours stretched into three days within the relentless crucible, I had reached Stage 1 Level 9, a metamorphosis took hold—an evolution of mind, body, and spirit forged in the crucible of trials. The cold anger that simmered beneath the surface fueled a determination to not just endure but to conquer, to extract every ounce of knowledge and power from the harrowing ordeal.