The Striking Cult

The air of the night was heavy with tension.

The streets around Pyron Academy were queit, the dim light exactly what Ren needed to numb the pain in his limbs after training with Sera. His shirt, damp with sweat, stuck to his skin, but he didn't care. His mind was too preoccupied.

For the first time since having awoken the Blue Flame, he had been able to reign it in somewhat. It wasn't perfect — not remotely — but he didn't for once feel that it would swallow him whole.

Even so… something felt off.

There were few people on the streets.

Too quiet.

Pyron Academy was based in a thickly populated area with not only markets and restaurants but also residential areas. At this hour, students and local residents should still have been out eating, drinking and leading their normal lives.

But tonight?

Not a single soul in sight.

A weird chill crawled down Ren's spine and his strides slowed.

"This isn't right."

He tilted his head to the side as if he felt something.

A presence.

No—multiple.

They were nearby. Watching.

Ren's fingers flexed, instinctual sparks preparing to summon his flames. Something was coming.

Then—

A whisper.

Soft. Faint. Barely audible.

"Found you."

Ren's eyes widened.

Before he was able to respond, the earth underfoot exploded.

A black shadow popped from the street made of cobblestone and moved faster than his eyes could keep up.

Ren barely dodged.

He contorted his body and tumbled to the side as a blade sliced through the air where his throat had been just seconds before. The weapon sliced through stone like butter and sent sparks flying.

Ren landed in a crouch, pulse racing. A sneak attack.

And that meant—

More were coming.

His instincts told him to take action.

He shot back, just as another attack bloomed from the shadows. A dagger sailed past his cheek, a hair from contact.

He caught a glimpse of his assailants — cloaked people whose faces were obscured by dark masks.

And then, it dawned on him.

The Hellfire Cult.

They had found him.

Ren forced himself to breathe at a normal rhythm, his muscles coiled as the cultists encircled him.

Five of them — perhaps more lurking nearby.

Their movements were deliberate, measured. These weren't ordinary thugs. Each one a trained killer, each one bearing a weapon imbued with dark power.

The biggest cultist stepped up, his voice low and warped by his mask. "You should not exist."

So did Ren's fingers, into fists. "Yeah, well, I'm a little hard to get rid of."

The cultist jerked his head to the side as if I had said nothing. "You are an anomaly. Step backwards in the balance of fire. The Blue Flame may be held by no mortal."

Ren's jaw tightened. "Then come and take it."

As soon as those words were out of his mouth, they pounced.

Three cultists lunged first.

Ren reacted on instinct.

He sidestepped the first hit — a curved blade directed at his ribs — then turned, narrowly missing a second dagger that sliced the air toward his neck. The third cultist swung a chain; Ren caught it mid-air, yanking the attacker toward him, and drove a knee up into the gut.

The cultist wheezed, staggering back.

Ren didn't hesitate. He twirled, smashing his elbow into the jaw of another assailant, then kicked the third in the chest.

But he wasn't quick enough to dodge them all.

His shoulder burst with pain as one of the masked assassins slashed and made him bleed with a dagger.

Ren gritted his teeth. "Damn it—"

Enough playing around.

He breathed in, and released the Blue Flame.

A burst of blue flame encircled him, crackling like a wild tempest.

The no-good-niks hesitated, cowering back from the supernatural flames.

Ren wiped blood off his shoulder, wincing but smirking through it. "What's wrong? Afraid of a little heat?"

The grip of the lead cultist on his weapon tightened. "You do not know what you wield." That flame will be your downfall."

Ren snorted. "That's funny. "I was just thinking that about you."

Then he moved.

Faster than before.

The Blue Flame flooded his veins, quickening him, empowering him, sharpening his reflexes.

The closest cultist hardly had time to react before Ren was on him.

He ducked under a slash, caught the attacker's wrist, then twisted. Bones popped like bad audio as the cultist screamed.

Ren didn't stop.

He stomped his foot and punched his flaming fist directly into the cultist's chest.

The blow sent the man airborne, smashing against an adjacent wall.

Another cultist charged at him, but Ren ducked, slamming his knee into the other's ribs before finishing with a spinning kick to the head.

Two down.

The other three hesitated now, moving less confidently.

Ren could tell from the way they held themselves — they hadn't thought he would push back like this.

Good.

His hand went up, the Blue Flame dancing around his palm. "You came here thinking you were the hunters.

The flame in his palm blazed whitehot, casting an other-worldly blue glow over the cultists' masks.

"But you just waltzed into a dragon's den."

For the first time, the lead cultist betrayed a hint of concern.

Then he surprised me—he opened his cloak and took out a peculiar black vial.

Ren's eyes narrowed. "What the hell is that?"

The cultist uncorked it.

The air weighed down, right away.

A cloud of dark energy burst from the vial like liquid smoke and coiled around the cultist's body. The shadows coiled and thrashed, surrounding him like chains of flesh.

Ren staggered back. His instincts shouted — something was very, very wrong.

The voice of the cultist came out low, inhuman growling. "If we cannot kill you as we are …

His body churned and writhed, stretching until he stood a few feet taller, his limbs bending in unnatural angles. His mask split open to expose a grotesque, demon face inside.

"Then we will be something different."

Ren's stomach dropped.

This was more than just a fight now."

This was a nightmare.

that sent tremors through the earth, and in an instant — he was rushing straight toward Ren.

Ren barely had time to defend himself before a clawed hand swung toward him.

He lifted his arms to shield his head — but the blow's force sent him slamming to the ground.

Damn it.

Ren coughed and attempted to rise, but the monster was above him, and its glowing red orbs showed nothing but sheer hatred.

For the first time that night …

"And I thought, okay, I probably won't win this battle.