Chapter 21
The next night, Nezutsu couldn't sleep.
Not because of the Hollow Womb.
Not even because of the shattered mirror.
But because of the voice.
It whispered inside him, not with words but with pressure — like a storm building in his blood, pulling at him from a place he hadn't noticed before.
A place under his heart.
The Flame That Watches
When Nezutsu placed his hand over his chest, it was no longer just the Amber Flame that answered.
Another pulse responded — colder, slower, more calculating.
"It's not just power," he muttered to himself. "It's alive."
Kaelith entered quietly.
"Still hearing it?"
"No. Now it hears me."
She looked concerned. "You're changing."
"Maybe I always was something else. Just… unfinished."
She reached into her coat and pulled out a sealed scroll.
"Then it's time you met someone who might know what you're becoming."
The Scarlet Duel Invitation
The scroll was made of living parchment — ink that flowed like blood, and a wax seal shaped like a burning serpent.
Thalven tensed when he saw it.
"This… this is from the Scarlet Duelist."
"Who?" Nezutsu asked.
"A legend. A flameborn who was exiled centuries ago for breaking the Trial of Purity. They say he burns without casting light. He challenges only those the Mirrorborn recognize."
"Mirrorborn?"
Velgrim answered grimly.
"A term for those whose flames echo other realms. You're one now. And he wants to test you."
The scroll unraveled on its own.
It read:
To the Ashless One who walks with stolen fire—Come alone, under moonless sky.Face the blade that remembers.If you win, I'll give you the first true truth.If you lose… your name is mine.
The Duel Begins
They met at the edge of the Wyrmglass Lake — a surface so still it reflected stars not yet born.
The Scarlet Duelist stood barefoot on the water, blade in hand, cloak made of crimson cinders.
He removed his mask.
His face was half-burned, but his eyes were piercing — silver, like shattered moons.
"You carry the Third Flame," he said. "But you don't own it. Not yet."
"Who are you?" Nezutsu asked.
"Your reflection. If you had chosen vengeance over mercy. Power over friendship. Control over chaos."
He stepped forward.
"Let's see which path burns brighter."
Fire vs Fire: Will Against Reflection
The Scarlet Duelist moved like fire itself — not just fast, but unpredictable. His blade split reality, leaving cracks in the air that hissed with ancient heat.
Nezutsu fought back — not with brute strength, but with willflame.
He bent the amber fire into a serpent, then a shield, then into words that burned midair:
"I am not what they made me."
"I am what I choose."
The Scarlet Duelist laughed.
"Then prove it."
Nezutsu's flame surged, but so did something else.
From within his chest — the Third Flame woke.
But not like the Amber or Skyflame.
This one spoke.
Not in words… but in a memory.
The First Memory of the Third Flame
In the blink of a second, Nezutsu found himself standing in a different time.
A battlefield of floating corpses and weeping stars.
He stood beside a version of himself — older, taller, cloaked in black — commanding armies of fire without lifting a hand.
And the people facing him… were gods.
"He is the Flameborne Curse," one of them shouted.
"He cannot be allowed to live."
The vision flickered.
Then he was back.
Face to face with the Scarlet Duelist — who was smiling.
"You saw it, didn't you?"
"What… was that?"
"That was who you were before your name was stolen. And that's who you'll become again… unless you change your fate."
Victory… with a Price
The duel ended with Nezutsu's blade at the Scarlet Duelist's throat.
But he did not strike.
"Mercy?" the Duelist asked, surprised.
"No. Choice. That's the difference between me and my reflection."
The Duelist bowed.
"Then take this."
He handed Nezutsu a piece of obsidian — within it, a frozen flame spun endlessly.
"This is the Echo. A piece of the Third Flame's mind. Use it when the flame tries to take over."
"Why are you helping me?"
"Because if you fall… I fall with you. We all do."
And with that, the Duelist vanished into smoke.
Final Scene: The Whispering Map
Later, back at their camp, the Echo pulsed once in Nezutsu's hand.
Then it cracked.
A map appeared in flame — drawn across the sky like constellations aligning.
Velgrim gasped.
"That's not just any map."
"It's a map of the Forbidden Realms," Kaelith whispered.
"No," Thalven corrected. "It's a map of where the gods buried the names they feared most."
Nezutsu stared at it.
And suddenly, the stars on the map rearranged into a word.
His real name?
No.
Just a message.
Burned into the sky in fire only he could see:
"HE STILL LIVES."
[TO BE CONTINUED...]