Chapter 309: Of Fire and Water

Ranni appeared on the brink of tears, the glassy shimmer betraying her inner turmoil. Azriel knew her character well; she was someone who would cry over the misfortune of others. Unable to bear it, he turned his face away.

"I’m sorry my selfishness hurt you. If you still blame me, I understand—"

"Ah... no... I... I—"

She suddenly collapsed to her knees, covering her face with trembling hands as sobs overcame her.

"I am sorry..."

"...."

"I am so sorry, Your Highness..."

Azriel’s eyes widened slightly.

’I didn’t expect her to cry so suddenly...’

Just how pure was her heart? Had the book downplayed it?

"What happened to you... you didn’t deserve it, no one does... I’m sorry... Gods, I’m a terrible instructor. I’m sorry for treating you this way...!"

Azriel watched her silently, then wiped the cold sweat from his brow.

"The reason I sought you out first in this scenario... is because I need your help, Instructor. Help me avoid repeating my mistakes."

At his words, she lifted her gaze, confused, tears streaming down her face. Even in sorrow, her beauty was striking—her tears only accentuating her natural elegance.

"The same... mistakes?"

"You said it yourself—participants here are already attempting murder. Instructor, survival is crucial, but I’m deeply worried about what comes afterward."

"What... do you mean?" Her sobs began to subside as she focused more intently.

"Do you remember the Mana Collar incident? It was orchestrated by the terrorist group FreeWings from the underground world. I don’t know their exact goal in unlocking the Mana Collar, but we’ve all witnessed that mysterious white beam from the sky. I doubt only 143 people were sent into this scenario. Many more, countless others, were likely sent to different scenarios. We’re not alone—and once this ends, the world will plunge into chaos, the perfect moment for underground organizations to rise and take control."

Hearing the gravity in his voice, Ranni gradually stopped crying, her expression becoming more solemn and attentive.

"I understand what you’re saying... Some participants I’ve encountered seem connected to these groups."

Azriel nodded firmly.

"That’s why I need your help—to stop them together and prevent another tragedy. FreeWings already has their sights on the Hero Academy. Instructor, help me avert another disaster."

Ranni wiped away her tears, her face troubled.

"I understand, but... my priority remains protecting the cadets trapped here. You’re among them. Hunting terrorists would endanger you—and possibly the others if I’m not there to protect them."

"But you’re here right now. That means you’ve promised to return by a specific time, correct?"

She slowly shook her head.

"In three days, I must return to the capital, to Cadet Lumine and the others."

"Then give me two days."

"What?"

"Two days of your help. Help me hunt down one of those terrorists. Even if we fail, we’ll stop after that."

His words made Ranni hesitate, eyes uncertain.

"...If I decline, you’ll go after them alone anyway, won’t you?"

Azriel didn’t hesitate.

"Yes."

He needed to cut them down before they grew too dangerous.

"Wait... Y-you... you’re an Expert!"

Her sudden exclamation caught Azriel off guard, her wide eyes filled with disbelief.

"Well... yes. I didn’t exactly spend my time in this scenario hiding or... sleeping."

"You... How can someone evolve their mana core so quickly? You must have even broken Saint Solomon’s record for evolving a mana core by two full levels in such a short span!"

Azriel turned away slightly, awkwardly scratching his cheek.

"You’re exaggerating... Solomon was probably just being lazy. He could have easily done the same back when he evolved from Intermediate to Expert. I’m sure others my age will catch up soon enough."

Ranni blinked a few times, droplets of tears still lingering at the corners of her eyes. Then she bit her lip decisively.

"One day."

"What?"

"Tomorrow we’ll hunt only one of those terrorists. But afterward, you’ll come back with me. You won’t act alone anymore."

Azriel was momentarily stunned by her firm statement.

’Well... perhaps she wants me to shoulder some of her burdens? I doubt the royals from the Four Great Clans have helped much.’

Maybe Celestina did though. Or Jasmine.

"Alright... I accept."

"Great."

"...Great."

Just as they finished speaking simultaneously, the door creaked open slowly. Both turned their heads sharply, locking eyes with a waitress who had frozen in place.

The waitress stared, petrified, at the two seated on the wet floor, clothes soaked, the room drenched, a feather drifting lazily through the air. Her gaze traveled nervously to the hole in the door.

Quickly averting her eyes, she stammered,

"I-I apologize for intruding..."

Azriel’s eyes lit up, noticing the tray she held.

’Food!’

He truly hadn’t lied earlier—he hadn’t eaten properly in days.

Quickly standing, Azriel took the tray from her hands. She avoided meeting his gaze, her cheeks slightly flushed. As she turned to leave, she hesitated and glanced back nervously.

"I-If you’d like, there’s a larger two-bedroom room available that might better accommodate your... needs."

Azriel stared blankly at her. Feeling his gaze, the waitress’s face flushed deeper, panic overtaking her as she quickly fled down the hallway.

Azriel leaned back against the bed frame in the small, shabby, single room, sighing deeply.

"I’m going to clean myself up," Ranni said quietly.

"You should as well."

"I will after I eat."

Ranni nodded before stepping into the bathroom. Left alone, Azriel exhaled softly.

’At least I’ve regained her trust... although she’s probably overwhelmed with pity and guilt.’

Whatever worked, he supposed.

Still, he reminded himself carefully:

In the end, he needed to weigh every word.

After all, one never knew who might be listening.

*****

In a village named Waterwheel, there was neither water nor a wheel—though once, there had been both. Once, water flowed gracefully, cascading down each spoke of the great wheel. Now, only fire remained. The wheel burned.

The sky was ripped apart by smoke—not gray nor white, but the hue of rotting ink, dense and thick, clawing toward the heavens like the desperate screams of a dying god. Embers drifted through the air, like fireflies intoxicated by blood, dancing amidst the wind’s lament as if mourning the past. Thatched roofs crumbled beneath flames, groaning as wood cracked and splintered in dreadful pleasure. Windowpanes shattered like gunshots, children’s toys melted into the earth, and a doll’s glass eye stared vacantly skyward, clouded by ash. Stones boiled; water shrieked as steam. Chickens trapped within coops flapped frantically, wings ablaze, their cries unheard. No one saved them—no one could. Bodies littered the streets—some still smoldering, others already reduced to ash. A mother clutching two children had turned to a charcoal statue. The Church of Sun’s bell tolled once as its tower collapsed, a rusted cry consumed by the inferno.

Above it all, the wind brought no salvation—only the scent of burnt flesh and smoldering timber.

In the center of the devastation stood two figures.

One was a young man with an eyepatch, messy hair slicked back by sweat, his body trembling slightly.

The other was a girl whose crimson eyes mirrored the surrounding flames, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders.

"You... you really don’t know how to give up, do you, wench!? Three months—three whole months you’ve been chasing after me! Don’t you get it!? It’s futile! I’m immortal! I can’t die! You can’t even scratch me! Yet you keep chasing me over and over again! Don’t you sleep!? I can’t even return to meet with the Supreme Leader because of you, slut! Wench! Bitch! Whore! Tart! Tramp!"

Pierre, the immortal with the eyepatch, screamed in utter frustration.

Despite his vile outburst, Jasmine’s lips curled coldly.

"I suppose I inherited my spitefulness from my father. You stabbed me in the eye, remember? There’s no chance I’ll ever stop until your cold corpse lies at my feet."

Pierre gritted his teeth.

"And for that, you’d let an entire village burn!? You’re truly unforgivable! First, the village of Keft destroyed because you wouldn’t surrender, and now this! Again you pursue me, refusing to let me have any peace! The few missions I manage despite your relentless stalking—you even interfere with those!"

"Yet you were the one who slaughtered these people," Jasmine retorted calmly. "I might have burned their homes afterward, but only after you killed them. You’re quite the hypocrite, aren’t you? Perhaps losing your eye affected your brain as well."

Pierre scowled.

"It was for the greater good! These people had to die—they would have stood in the way! The village had to drown in blood! It was the Supreme Leader’s will! Who am I to question him!? You vile prostitute, how dare you defy his will!?"

Jasmine sighed coldly.

"You’re truly mad."

The fire crept closer, yet despite its intensity, it left no mark on Pierre. Immortal, unharmed, his face contorted in rage, eyes betraying deep terror.

Suddenly, he vanished from sight.

Jasmine narrowed her eyes and moved instantly, walking unaffected through her own flames.

Eventually, she spotted Pierre atop the fallen church bell, untouched by the fire.

He spun around, his expression darkening upon seeing her.

"Just let me go!"

"Never," she responded flatly.

Pierre trembled violently, clutching his head, tearing at his hair.

"AAAHH! DIE! DIE! DIE! DIE! DIE! DIE! DIE! DIE! DIE! DIE! DIE! DIE! DIE! DIE!"

At once, Jasmine leaped aside as an invisible beam shot toward her, obliterating everything in its path—fire, ground, rubble—all crushed by the immense pressure Pierre unleashed.

"This is unfair! You must be cheating! You can’t even see it, yet you dodge everything! Unfair!"

Pierre lifted a massive slab of wall effortlessly, altering its gravity, and hurled it toward Jasmine. Before it could strike, it ignited, consumed instantly by flames. Fear flickered across Pierre’s face once more.

He fled again, and Jasmine pursued. Their chase stretched on for hours, cat and mouse through the ruined village until even the flames died out, leaving only scorched black earth. Neither gained ground, each desperately seeking even a single scratch on the other.

Only when a certain familiar figure appeared did Jasmine relent, momentarily backing down and allowing Pierre to escape.

...For now, at least.