Power of Runes Chapter 5 5: Flame Empress

"For the moment, it's secure," she declared, looking over her shoulder at Melissia, who was already attempting to glance past her.

The girl's eyes grew wide as she advanced, absorbing the sight before her. Her eyes initially landed on the Shadow Fang, its corpse half-buried beneath the debris blocking the mine's opening.

A shattered blade pierced the creature's throat, its rough tip marked by thick, dark gore.

Next, her focus turned to the youth lying close to the slain beast.

"Who's he?" Melissia murmured, her words faint as she edged nearer.

Nyra stayed quiet, yet she proceeded toward the youth.

Melissia cocked her head a touch, her prior thrill gradually giving way to a subdued curiosity.

"Sister Nyra... is he asleep?" she inquired gently and cautiously, as if her utterance might rouse him all by itself.

Nyra's keen eyes scanned the boy's form methodically. "I'm uncertain, Miss," she replied steadily, her voice reflective but watchful.

"Yet the odd, thick mana we detected before—it's clearly emanating from him. Apparently, he has just completed the awakening ritual…"

Melissia inched forward warily, her interest now surpassing her wariness.

"Can awakening truly create such chaos around?" she wondered, bending down a bit and tilting to peer at him more closely.

Nyra's forehead creased, her frame tensing naturally. "Miss, stay back a little," she cautioned softly yet resolutely.

"We can't foresee what comes next, and regarding your query—no, an ordinary awakening wouldn't stir up this much turmoil."

Except if one gains a mighty trait... The thought stayed unspoken in her mind, her gaze sharpening subtly.

Melissia let out a quiet breath and rolled her eyes, obeying by retreating, though her steps showed obvious hesitation.

"Fine, fine," she muttered softly.

"Truth be told, he doesn't appear threatening... aside from his frightening look, smeared with blood and grime."

"Plus… his mana—it's incredibly pure. I've never felt mana so pristine and concentrated, particularly from one so youthful-looking."

She halted briefly, concentrating on him intently, her face gentling as insight dawned in her gaze.

"Plus, it's evident he blacked out after battling that feeble beast. Nothing indicates he's pretending. His injuries likely mended amid the awakening…"

Nyra's eyebrows knitted as she scrutinized the boy's state thoroughly, her thoughts linking the clues she noticed too.

"Likely some Trait is causing his mana to surge like this. Perhaps his class is mage-like... though examining the area closely reveals the battle traces point to him starting with a sword."

Their hushed conversation persisted, their stares fixed on the boy.

However, as though an inner sense detected their nearness,

The youth began to rouse gradually.

His lids quivered before parting, unveiling sky-blue eyes unusually serene for his condition.

He stayed still, yet his eyes fixed on them, deep in contemplation.

A thick quietness filled the space until he uttered, his tone raspy yet firm.

"...Who are you?"

**

'Feels nice.'

Ash sensed himself drifting, body feather-light and thoughts sharp. An eerie, calming peace enveloped him, as if all weights had lifted.

No ache, no fatigue—only tranquility.

Then the voices intruded.

'Sister Nyra… is he asleep?'

'I'm unsure, Miss, but the peculiar—'

Irritating.

The sounds broke the calm, sparking annoyance inside.

The serenity he held onto faded, compelling him to shift.

Struggling, he forced his lids apart, exposing tranquil sky-blue eyes.

His sight was fuzzy, but he discerned two shapes close by.

He regarded them steadily, body immobile, eyes piercing through the mental haze.

'Who might they be?' he pondered,

A dense hush lingered before his hoarse, even voice broke it.

"...Who are you?"

"What?! How dare you, you lowly peasant! Do you not recognize me?!"

He concentrated where the noise originated,

Ash blinked, his unclear view sharpening as a child yelled at him.

He willed his form to rise and stand, battling the mental mist.

As he stood, an odd feeling coursed through—a lightness, enhanced strength.

He clenched his fingers, probing the fresh vigor.

The prior agony and weariness vanished. Scars from wounds that ought to linger were fully mended.

The Rune of Stability succeeded, I suppose, he mused.

Ease crossed his features, a subtle grin forming unexpectedly.

That grin held not only ease but a glimmer of victory, silently celebrating his improbable survival.

All the torment to reach this point seemed justified—

"See this jerk disregarding me!"

The harsh tone sliced his reverie, yanking him to the present.

"No, Miss, avoid casting spells! Your father will be furious!" another voice urged desperately.

"But couldn't you witness that idiot snub me?! And that grin—he's ridiculing me!"

"Miss, your father will surely rage if he learns of your swearing once more!"

The tones grated, as his sight cleared further.

The speaker was a small girl, around twelve, with blazing red locks and scarlet eyes aflame with fury.

She appeared completely endearing.

Her chubby cheeks enhanced the charm, lending a dollish appeal.

It was obvious this child would blossom into a beauty capable of shaking realms.

Unthinkingly, the observation escaped his mouth.

"Cute."

Quietness.

The term lingered, stirring the calm like an unforeseen wave.

The woman beside the girl also stiffened, her face showing astonishment and incredulity,

The woman's mouth quirked, her look revealing the struggle to stay straight-faced.

Evidently, she suppressed chuckles, her eyes sparkling with humor and wonder.

"You—! You scum!" The girl faltered, gesturing wildly.

A flame orb formed and flew at Ash.

"Miss!" Nyra called sharply, cautioning. "No spells! Your father will—"

Observing their responses, Ash swiftly composed himself, returning to his typical poise.

He couldn't fathom why he'd voiced her cuteness—impulsive talk wasn't his style.

Yet somehow, the remark flowed out raw and true.

Ash's brow furrowed lightly.

This felt off.

He rarely let feelings slip unchecked like this.

'Something's amiss for sure.'

Absorbed in reflection, his frame reacted on reflex.

He shifted his head minimally, evading the incoming fireball just in time.

The girl stilled, mouth agape in shock, and the woman nearby seemed equally amazed.

The fireball lacked deadly force—it wouldn't slay him.

Merely Tier-0 Magic.

Still, it ought to have struck or brushed him. Instead, he sidestepped effortlessly, like instinct.

Their astonished stares validated his suspicion: an inner shift had occurred.

Yet he resolved to ponder it privately later.

"You... You... Who are you?" the girl pressed, her tone quivering as anger concealed her flush.

Ash eyed her, face shielding. "I ought to pose that. Why answer you? I don't know you," he retorted crisply, stance rigid.

His feelings were haywire, so he kept defenses up.

This time, the woman interjected, her speech even and composed. "We noticed odd mana fluctuations beyond the walls. Investigating led us... straight to you."

"Evidently, you experienced the awakening."

"Observe? Jerk, we safeguarded you while unconscious! Gratitude is due!" the girl barked, arms folded, scowling arrogantly.

The woman sighed, head shaking wearily, accustomed to the girl's behavior.

Initially, Ash found the girl's flare-up somewhat entertaining—childishly charming—but it soured to irritation.

He regarded her briefly, tolerance thinning, then strode by without comment.

"Hey! Where to? At least express thanks!" she yelled, frustration and surprise blending in her cry.

Ash halted, pivoting his head enough for a look back. His visage stayed neutral, serene, inscrutable.

"Prior to fainting, no one was near," he stated coolly. "So cease claiming unearned feats. Seeking praise for zilch… that's immature."

His retort cut like icy gusts, and he faced ahead, resuming his path to the city sans response.

Trailing him, the girl's cheeks burned with rage and bewilderment, her shaky voice echoing, "Do you not know my identity?!"

Ash paused deliberately and faced her squarely, demeanor steady, eyes placid as a pond.

"You're hardly a saint's heir or notable figure," he answered bluntly. "Quit behaving as an entitled kid demanding reverence."

His stare held firm as he added, "Even supposing you're kin to power—even if your lineage holds sway—what of it? Do you claim their glory? Their esteem? Don't presume their prestige is yours by birth."

A profound quiet ensued.

The girl stood rigid, eyes bulging, her bold stance fracturing. Her mouth quivered faintly, nearly tearful.

Nearby, the elder woman exhaled gently, her look blending sympathy and comprehension toward the girl.

She understood fully—the youth's harsh words rang true. Not all honored saints, not all accepted their supremacy. And truly, she couldn't lash out at every doubter, right?

Silent, Ash pivoted again and departed, trailing the oppressive hush.

yet,

Ash halted abruptly as the girl's cries rent the atmosphere.

He glanced back partially, seeing her gripping Nyra's cloak edge, tears flowing on her reddened cheeks.

"S-Sister Nyra!" she sobbed, voice quaking with outrage and pain. "He labeled me a pampered pest! I-I meant to assist!"

Briefly, a twinge of remorse stirred in Ash.

Then realization struck.

The woman's identity.

Nyra,

It nagged at his recollection's fringe, but the girl's next words sealed it.

Her auburn tresses, volatile nature, paired with her haughtiness and poise, formed an unmistakable image.

Flame Empress.

This weeping, fit-throwing kid flinging flames was the Flame Empress.

A future scourge of devastation, harem member to the lead.

Ash's breathing faltered, pulse racing as truth dawned.

He'd slighted no ordinary child.

He had slighted....

Chill sweat beaded on Ash's spine, form going taut under the epiphany's burden.

And Nyra too.

That moniker…

Nyra, the Radiant Valkyrie, legendary for unyielding devotion and might.

She guarded the Flame Empress devotedly.

United, they formed an invincible duo,

And he'd belittled one, dismissed the other.

What idiocy is this?

Terror gripped his core as connections formed.

'This whiny tot matures into a Saint-tier titan scorching legions, daughter to a Saint-tier giant besides.'

Ash sweated profusely.

He hadn't merely irked her—he'd provoked her outright.

Worse, his power lagged,

Should tensions rise, self-protection seemed doubtful.

His typically restrained sentiments surged wildly, unchecked.

What's befalling me?

Ash balled his hands, ire building.

He grasped his imprudence—far riskier than allowable.

The awakening disrupted his balance; control was urgent.

Yet foremost, address his error's fallout.

He inhaled deeply, seeking calm to devise next moves.

***

A/N: Ash's blunder is massive! 😬 Predictions for what's ahead?

Share guesses below, query if puzzled! And power stones fuel me—rain them down! 🚀✨