Chapter 9: The Flame That Burns Twice
The skies above the shattered world turned red once more.
Long after his supposed death, Flameheart Drax returned — not as a man, nor even as the fire-wielding tyrant he once was, but as something far worse. He had become Flame Incarnate, a vessel fused with the stolen embers of the divine — resurrected through forbidden rites whispered only in the depths of the Void.
News spread like wildfire. Cities that had barely begun to rebuild after the last war trembled. The oceans boiled where Drax passed. Storms of black flame devoured islands overnight.
And in the heart of this chaos, Raizen stood alone atop the floating cliffs of Seraphel — a crumbling remnant of the old world — where Drax had chosen to make his stand.
The two locked eyes across a plain of scorched stone and ash.
Raizen's coat fluttered in the heated wind. The Crown of Shadows hovered behind his back like a silent sentinel, reformed but still unstable — a symbol of power he had claimed, but refused to wield recklessly. Inside him, a storm brewed: fear, anger… and duty.
Drax, now twice the height of a man, his body composed of molten obsidian and divine fire, laughed with a voice that cracked the earth. His eyes burned with madness — and purpose.
"You thought you ended me, Raizen. But fire that is true cannot be extinguished. I was reborn in the Abyss — not by gods, but by my own will."
Raizen drew his blade, already glowing with runes that pulsed in rhythm with his heart.
"And fire that burns too hot… consumes itself."
The world shattered in the first clash.
Their battle tore open the skies. Each strike Raizen landed scattered sparks that fell like meteors into the sea. Each blow from Drax melted stone and fractured mountains. Heaven and earth were mere witnesses to the carnage unleashed between these two titans.
Drax's flames were no longer elemental — they were sentient, alive with wrath. They twisted into shapes — dragons, serpents, spears of vengeance. Every time Raizen dodged, a village far away suffered the impact. He had to end this — fast.
But Drax wasn't just stronger. He was relentless. Reborn.
Raizen faltered, once, blood staining the edges of his vision. Drax drove a spear of black flame through Raizen's shoulder, pinning him to the stone.
"You are not a god," Drax spat. "You refused the throne. And now the world will burn for your weakness."
But Raizen's hand tightened around his sword.
"I don't need a throne… to protect what matters."
He activated the Vow Sigil — a forbidden technique engraved into his body during his Trial at the Hollow Throne. It drew upon the energy of his own soul, tearing away layers of his humanity for every heartbeat it remained active. Light burst from him, not divine — but pure willpower.
His aura erupted.
The flames of Drax were pushed back for the first time.
The battle shifted.
Raizen moved faster than thought, his blade carving through illusions and heat, his mind focused like never before. He parried a blow that could have split a continent. He struck Drax across the chest — and the god-flame bled.
Drax roared, not in pain — but in fear.
"You… you would burn yourself to stop me?"
"No," Raizen said, stepping forward as his form began to flicker, his veins glowing. "I would burn the sky itself… if it meant saving just one life from you."
Then came the final blow.
Raizen leapt high, higher than any man should, into the smoke-choked heavens. He raised his blade — now fused with a shard of the Hollow Throne — and channeled everything into a final, radiant strike.
The moment it connected, the world paused.
A column of light and fire surged upward like a volcano erupting into the void. Sound vanished. Time stilled.
When the explosion faded, only silence remained.
The battlefield was glass. The sea, vaporized. The ruins of Seraphel drifted in midair, caught between collapse and eternity.
And at the center stood Raizen — kneeling, breathing heavily, clothes scorched, bleeding from a dozen wounds… but alive.
Flameheart Drax was gone.
No ashes. No scream. Only a scorched crater where a tyrant once stood.
But Raizen could feel it — Drax's power wasn't destroyed. It had fled. Dispersed into the world, waiting for another vessel… another flame.
His victory came at a cost.
His body was fractured. His soul, dimmed. The Vow Sigil had consumed something he could never regain. And deep within, the Crown of Shadows pulsed — warning him that every triumph brought him closer to becoming what he fought against.
Zuri and the others found him hours later, unconscious but still breathing.
As they carried him away, Raizen dreamt not of thrones, or flames… but of a child crying in a burning village, and a hand reaching through smoke to save them.
The flame that burns twice, he realized, burns not just brighter — but closer to the edge of oblivion.
END OF THE CHAPTER9