Thorn Of A Black Rose

Silence.

A drape of silence had fallen over the dimly lit room, heavy and unshaken. Jack Blazespout sat still, his fingers curled loosely around the phone in his hand. The glow of the screen cast sharp shadows across his face, illuminating his ashen hair and piercing black eyes.

The words on the screen were simple. Unavoidable.

Arthur Nightingale—Rank 1.

Jack exhaled, slow and controlled, his thumb idly scrolling through the global announcement.

"Rank 1, huh," he muttered.

The boy who had once threatened him, who had stood beneath him just a few years ago, had now ascended to the pinnacle of humanity.

Across the room, Evelyn Blackthorn stood in silence, her midnight black hair framing her sharp features. Unlike Jack, she had already known. But watching him process it now, she saw something flicker across his face—something not quite surprise, not quite anger.

It was acknowledgment.

And that made her uneasy.

"Evelyn," Jack spoke without looking up, his tone even, measured. "Is he stronger than me?"

Evelyn hesitated.

Not because she didn't know the answer—but because she wasn't sure if Jack was ready to hear it.

Jack Blazespout had once been considered a future calamity in his own right, a prodigy destined to bear the title of Heavenly Demon. He had grown from being merely talented to being a genuine threat.

Even at peak Immortal-rank, his power was overwhelming.

But Evelyn had seen Arthur's transformation with her own eyes.

That winged form. That golden radiance.

'Impossible.'

The word had echoed in her mind even then.

It wasn't just a gap in power.

It was a chasm.

She exhaled softly, her stoic expression cracking slightly before she finally gave him the truth.

"Yes," she said.

Jack was silent for a moment, then leaned back into his chair, exhaling through his nose.

"He's going to come for me soon."

Evelyn's brow furrowed slightly. "How do you know?"

Jack scoffed. "He thinks I can't detect the movements of the guilds? I am not that incompetent."

His gaze darkened. "It's time to move forward with the plan."

Evelyn stiffened. "But it's too early," she argued. "You haven't reached Radiant-rank yet."

"I'm aware," Jack admitted. "And there's a monster sitting at the top of the Tower of Magic, too." His voice was sharp, edged with calculation. "So we change the plan. We won't target Slatemark Academy anymore."

Evelyn didn't respond immediately.

Her mind ran through the implications, recalculating everything, shifting pieces on the board.

It was reckless.

It was dangerous.

But Jack was not someone who acted without reason.

After a long silence, he finally spoke again.

"Is Alyssara still that undetectable?"

Evelyn pressed her lips together.

"She absorbed all remnants of the Savage Communion into the Red Chalice Cult," she admitted. "They couldn't stop her."

Jack hummed, his fingers tapping absently against the table.

"Not just that," Evelyn continued. "She reversed the position of the cult and the black mana species."

Jack's eyes narrowed. "So she's not just a Cult Leader anymore."

Evelyn exhaled sharply. "That bitch is now sitting atop the Savage Communion, the Red Chalice Cult, the vampires, the ogres, and the orcs."

A long silence stretched between them.

Jack's expression was unreadable. "How did she absorb them?"

Evelyn let out a dry, humorless scoff.

"She just walked to the borders and threw out her threads. She stopped the entire army of the Western continent like it was nothing."

She clicked her tongue. "Seriously, it's like she's cheating at this point."

"It would take even me quite some time to reach her level," Jack admitted, exhaling slowly. His fingers tapped against the desk, his ember-red eyes narrowing. "She's stronger than the Heavenly Demon of the past."

Evelyn's eyes widened. "She's that strong?"

The thought alone was enough to unsettle her. To Evelyn, the Heavenly Demon—the one who had formed the Heavenly Demon Sect two centuries ago—was a legend, an untouchable being.

If not for the emergence of Liam Kagu, if not for one man standing against him, the world itself would have been conquered.

The Heavenly Demon Sect would have never been destroyed, never been forced to become the Order of the Fallen Flame.

Jack's lips curled into something resembling a smirk, though there was no amusement in it.

"Yes," he murmured, brushing his fingers against his chest, as if recalling something deeper. "He told me."

Evelyn frowned. "Who?"

Jack's expression darkened.

"The one who reached the peak of destruction with fire… and still couldn't overcome the absolute control she represents."

Evelyn went still.

"Control," she muttered under her breath. "Is that her concept?"

"It is." Jack nodded.

"Alyssara Velcroix," he continued, "is Control itself. Her threads aren't just weapons—they are cages."

His voice dropped slightly, a near whisper.

"And it's even more terrifying because, like the Heavenly Demon, she's incomplete."

Evelyn stayed silent, letting him continue.

"As you know, I am the completed form of the Heavenly Demon in terms of base talent," Jack said, his tone steady, matter-of-fact. "I just need to grow, and I'll surpass him—because unlike him, I have both Abyssal Flames and Nirvana Flames."

He leaned back slightly, his ember gaze flickering with something unreadable. "But Alyssara Velcroix… she's the same as the Heavenly Demon in one way."

"Her control is also incomplete."

Evelyn exhaled, rubbing her temple as if the thought alone was exhausting.

"She needs a second Gift to complete her power," Jack continued, his voice heavier now.

Evelyn let out a dry chuckle, shaking her head. "At that point, wouldn't she even endanger the Demon Lords?"

As the Cult Leader of the Order of the Fallen Flame, Evelyn had insight into the power of the demons, especially the Seven Demon Lords.

And the idea that a human—even Alyssara Velcroix—could match them…

It was absurd.

But at the same time…

Evelyn wasn't sure she could laugh about it.

"Well then, you've done everything right for my father?" Jack asked, his voice even.

Evelyn nodded without hesitation.

"I fed them the Black Rose Poison long ago. I can kill him whenever you want."

Jack exhaled through his nose, rolling his shoulders slightly, as if shedding the weight of hesitation.

"Kill him after I give the signal," he said.

Then, he smiled.

But there was no warmth in it.

Evelyn merely nodded, disappearing like a wisp of smoke, leaving Jack alone in the dim light of his office.

He let out a slow breath, then turned on his heel and walked.

Each step measured. Each step steady.

He had always known this day would come.

And now, it was here.

The doors to Duke Blazespout's office loomed ahead, the golden insignia of his noble house etched into the dark wood, flickering under the glow of the lanterns.

Jack pushed the doors open without knocking.

Inside, his father sat behind an ornate mahogany desk, a thick tome in front of him, but his gaze lifted the moment Jack entered.

"Hello, Father," Jack greeted, smiling.

Duke Blazespout—one of the most powerful nobles in the Slatemark Empire—lifted his gaze, his amber eyes calm and steady as they settled on his son.

"Son," he said with a small smile.

A smile Jack was used to.

The kind of smile that felt more like an expectation than a show of warmth.

Jack stepped forward, lowering himself onto the seat across from his father, his movements unrushed, deliberate.

"You seem tense, Father," Jack noted, his eyes flickering over the half-filled glass of wine on the desk.

His father hummed. "Not tense. Just prepared."

Jack raised a brow. "Prepared for what?"

His father tilted his head slightly, studying him in that way he always did—as though he were analyzing, weighing every word, every movement.

"For you," Duke Blazespout said simply.

Jack stilled, his smile not faltering, but no longer reaching his eyes.

"That's interesting," he mused. "What exactly do you mean by that, Father?"

His father let out a quiet breath.

"You've come here to kill me, haven't you?"

The air shifted.

Jack's fingers twitched slightly at the words, but his father only smiled.

It was the same calm, resigned expression he always wore when lecturing Jack about responsibility, legacy, duty.

"You knew?" Jack asked, voice calm, but something uncertain flickered beneath it.

His father nodded. "Of course I knew."

Jack exhaled through his nose.

"Then why are you still sitting there?"

His father leaned back in his chair, folding his hands together. "Because it's too late to change things now. You are who you are. And I am who I am."

Jack's fingers curled into his palms.

"You're not even going to try and stop me?"

His father's lips twitched, but there was something else in his eyes now.

Regret.

"I should have raised you better," Duke Blazespout murmured. "I should have seen this coming."

Jack's breath hitched.

It was the first time in his life his father had ever admitted to a mistake.

For a moment, something in Jack's chest tightened.

Then—he let it go.

"Maybe," Jack said softly.

Then, without hesitation—he struck.

His Abyssal Flames ignited in an instant, devouring the air, surging toward his father with no chance for resistance.

Duke Blazespout did not move.

He simply closed his eyes.

The flames consumed him.

The room was silent.

Jack stood over the charred remnants of the man who had raised him, his expression unreadable.

Then, he turned.

And with a flick of his wrist—fire erupted throughout the entire Blazespout estate.

The sky burned red.

And Jack walked away without looking back.