Roderic05

In a world where every human is granted flames that decide their fate, society is divided between those sworn to the White Flame of the Gods and those who embrace the Red Flame of the Devils. The flames govern power and status, even personality.

But Ren Kaizen is different. His classmates woke their flames while young, but he was still powerless, a “Flameless”—an outcast. Branded as weak, he was ridiculed, overlooked, and fated to lead a mundane existence.

Until one fateful night.

Ren unwittingly signs a contract in a moment of desperation, and in doing so resurrects the forbidden Blue Flame — an impossible thing, a cursed union of divine and demonic power. His fire doesn't reach its truest potential until he enters a state of absolute rage, though it tends to appear calm on the surface, much like more familiar flames.

Whispers claim the Blue Flame is a curse, a flame birthed by an ancient war between gods and devils. Those who use it are doomed to ruin — or glory.

Now on the run from both divine knights and hellfire cultists, Ren must uncover the truth of what his flames mean, the contract he signed without knowing it, and the dark history buried under the world’s immaculate equilibrium.”

Will he become a savior? Or will the blighted fire consume him entirely?

Infernal Fate

The sky of the grand city of Solara, where marble towers reached out like hands of the faithful, and obsidian fortifications loomed like fists of their foes, were filled with swirling embers of divine and infernal flames. There were people everywhere on the streets, their hands crackling with White Flames of the gods or Red Flames of the devils, markings of power, status, and identity.

But amongst them a one walked with nothing.

Ren Kaizen padded through the school gates of Pyron Academy, gazing at the ground, his fists clenched in his pockets. Students conjured their flames in casual conversation around him, testing their abilities or flashing their talents. He was impervious to their sneering looks, their whispers cutting into him like daggers.

"That's the guy, right? The one with no flame?"

"Yeah, what a joke. How did he even manage to get into Pyron Academy?'

"Probably some mistake. I had heard his parents weren't even strong either."

Ren didn't react. He was used to it.

Seventeen years he'd been Flameless. No White Flame. No Red Flame. Nothing. Unlike others, who awoke to their powers at age 10, he never did. He trained, he meditated, he begged the gods for a blessing — but nothing came. His parents were minor users of the White Flame themselves and had done their best to encourage him, but he could see it in their eyes.

He sighed as he entered the academy grounds. Pyron Academy was no ordinary school—it was a school for the most powerful flame wielders, trained to be warriors, leaders, legends. And yet, he was nothing more than an outcast, the bottom of the totem pole, the punching bag for his classmates.

Ren barely had time to register what was happening when a fist wreathed in crimson flames, slammed into his gut, making him double over clutching his stomach and stagger back.

Laughter erupted around him. Dante Raines, the academy's most dominant Red Flame user, smirked as he drew back his fist, smoke coiling up from his knuckles.

Ren bit his teeth together, unwilling to fall.

Dante clicked his tongue. "What's wrong, Flameless? Did I hit too hard?"

Ren didn't answer. He knew it was futile to resist. Ren thought that without a flame of his own, Ren had been just another weakling in Dante's eyes.

"Tch. You're boring," Dante said with a sneer. "You should just withdraw already. Boy without flame, man without place in world."

He turned his back, and the crowd lost interest, murmuring as it broke up.

Ren stayed on his feet, heart racing with muted anger. It wasn't the pain itself that hurt — it was the humiliation, the powerlessness. He hated it. He hated being weak.

"Why? Why am I the only one that was born without a flame?"

It was a dark and stormy cloud-filled sky. He sighed and walked home with his hands in his pockets. But he was out in the lower district, just wandering through alleys, when he saw—something was blowing on the wind, a piece of parchment, and it fell at his feet.

It had silver markings on a black surface, ancient in appearance, the letters dimly glowing.

Ren frowned, picking it up. The letters moved about on the page before his eyes, stringing together into one sentence.

"Sign this contract, and awaken the flame that no god or devils can hold."

"A scam?" He wanted to throw it away — but something, deep within, beckoned. He reached right for the inked quill affixed to the parchment, not even knowing he did so.

When he put his name down—the world went black.

He felt a piercing pain in his chest. His veins felt as if they had been poured full of molten lava, his vision was a blur, and for the first time in his life —

And from that moment on, the world was never the same.

The Flameless Outcast