Chapter 287: Eerie Blue Flame

Wu Ermu had no mother at birth, and his adoptive father told him that he was found beside a charred corpse.

His adoptive father said that the curse he was born with had burned his mother to death at his birth.

Wu Ermu's name means "the Gift of Scorching Pain" in the ancient Gebai language.

He wanted to tell Wu Ermu that the scorching curse might one day become a deity's blessing.

As a child, he still didn't know what that meant.

It wasn't until after he could remember that the strange flame erupted for the first time.

That night, when he was awakened by the surrounding clamor, the world before his eyes was covered by endless blue‑white flames.

What followed was unending agony and the mournful screams of his adoptive parents.

The tribe's shaman was startled by the flames and prayed to the gods to summon the power of water elementals to extinguish the fire.

But the blue‑white flame consumed everything; the Divine Spell's power was devoured the moment it touched, feeding the flame.

The flame kept burning until it killed his parents and the shaman outright, while his older brother, who lived alone, escaped.

Later events had become hazy in Wu Ermu's young mind; he only heard his older brother say that after the disaster, the tribal chief expelled the brothers from the tribe.

His older brother didn't hold it against him for killing their biological parents; instead, he devoted himself to caring for the brother his parents had rescued.

To prevent another night like that, his older brother and he kept experimenting, trying to discern the pattern of the flame's eruptions.

Later, they discovered that as long as they offered a "tribute" to that terrifying power, everything would remain peaceful.

The problem was that tributes were precious; most of the time, Wu Ermu had to use his own willpower to hold back the flame's eruptions.

Drinking copious water to try to suppress the imagined flame was a measure he had to take to reinforce his self‑suggestion.

"Kid, what's wrong, kid!"

Wu Ermu, trapped in a memory illusion, snapped awake, gritting through the excruciating pain to open his eyes, and through the blue‑white flames saw an elderly man trying to approach.

"Stay away, stay far from me!"

Panic seized Wu Ermu's mind; he feared his curse would again kill innocents, and he thrashed on the ground, desperately trying to evade the elder's approach.

"Enough, human, do not approach him," a thunderous voice granted Wu Ermu's wish, and the boy let out a sigh of relief.

"What—what's wrong with this kid?" Old Akbar had to stand still, watching the struggling boy with concern.

How horrifying, this kid shouldn't have to be burned alive! Aren't silver dragons supposed to be the kindest of great dragons? How could they watch such a small child be burned?

Old Akbar muttered a silent curse under his breath.

Naimi Xisi didn't notice Old Akbar's resentment; he wore a solemn expression, his full attention fixed on the boy.

"What... what kind of power is this?" Naimi Xisi's face showed startled uncertainty.

His eyesight was naturally sharper than Old Akbar's; although the blue‑white flame seemed to torment the boy, it posed no lethal threat to him.

Moreover, within his Arcane Power vision, he could see the boy's body gradually changing, becoming more attuned to magic and to that strange flame.

"No—ahhhhhh!" The boy let out a fierce scream and then, unable to endure, blacked out.

Naimi Xisi shook his head; although the flame caused no physical harm to the boy, such suffering in a child could likely cause mental paralysis.

In other words, it would leave him numb with pain. He tried to summon frost, but the ice spreading over the sand failed before reaching the boy.

The frosty mist began to boil three steps from the boy; the sound of the cold current being devoured by the flame resembled millions of glass scorpions gnawing moonlight. Then the flame burned even more fiercely, as if fueled.

Naimi Xisi stared in shocked anger; the flame was actually devouring the magical energy that formed the spell!

His spell went out of control the instant it touched the flame! Even a scholar as learned as Juan Ce Long had never heard of such power.

Fortunately, after the flame consumed the magical energy, it seemed to calm, retracting into the boy's body with not a single spark left, and even his clothing remained intact.

It was as if everything that just happened had been an illusion.

Naimi Xisi hurried to the boy's side, his expression grave as he scanned up and down.

No problem; he could see no issues.

Naimi Xisi's Arcane Power vision detected absolutely no abnormal magical presence in the boy's body.

But that was the strangest part.

!

Within the boy's body, like a black hole, it continuously absorbed external magic, only for it to vanish without a trace.

"Oh dear, poor kid, what a fate," Old Akbar rushed to the boy, cradling him and carefully checking his vital signs.

The boy's wrist was exposed, and several fiery red threads had already crawled up his entire arm, disappearing somewhere inside his clothing.

—

In the southeastern part of the Eno Oak Desert, at the border between the Black Desert and the Great Sand Sea, deep within Iron Jaw Fortress.

When the gear gate of Iron Jaw Fortress thundered open, the moonlight first fell on the metallic gleam of the man's right arm— not an ordinary mechanical prosthetic, but a Naisier relic pulsing with eerie blue energy.

Dark‑purple, vein‑like patterns pulsed across the metal surface, as if the entire arm sealed a raging thundercloud. With each step he raised a humming of meshing gears, while desert heat warped and steamed over the lava‑like scar on his left cheek.

His right eye still held a human amber pupil, like a dust‑covered sulfur gem. The hourglass‑shaped prosthetic eye in his left socket stared at an extremely intricate ancient device before him, tiny Naisier runes flickering intermittently on its glass surface.

When he curled his mouth into a cold grin, uneven teeth flashed with metallic sheen—sharp fangs forged from a defeated foe's armor, the tongue bearing the Santanlin Society's coiled‑snake emblem.

His breathing followed an irregular rhythm: three short human gasps followed inevitably by a hiss of steam venting, like the dying gasp of a dying lizard.

When the man's metal index finger of his powered gauntlet unintentionally tapped his thigh, every slave in the fortress shadows shivered— that rhythmic ticking was the cadence of an execution countdown.

"Has that thing appeared again?" A chilling voice emanated from the man's throat.

From the shadows behind him, a Mage cloaked entirely in a black robe replied in an unwavering tone: "To the northwest of the fortress, Naisier instruments have detected that creature's energy fluctuations."

The man clenched his fist, a fierce glint in his eyes: "That monster has ruined too many of our chances over the years. Order them to investigate, find out exactly what happened there. I don't care how precious your prophecy Scroll is, I will get the answer!"

"Understood." The Mage retreated into the shadows.

The man rose, walking toward the dilapidated ancient device, where the faint emblem of the Mystra holy seal could be seen.

"All‑knowing, all‑powerful Sole God, I will fulfill your mission."

The man produced a badge, reverently placing it on his chest; his fingertips faintly revealed a jaw‑less Skeleton head emblem, hovering within violet mist.

That is the Holy Emblem of Huangyan Wangzi—Xirui Ke.

(End of chapter)