Chapter 119: Fire and Water
For a heartbeat the heat hit a level no living thing should survive...then it collapsed. All of it. The inferno folded inward like a lung pulling one last breath.
"I've succeeded, Broodfather."
Pain stepped out of the dying glow, and whatever he'd been before was gone.
He stood eye-to-eye with Seo-jin. A full six feet, built like a siege engine. None of the hunched broodling posture remained. His frame matched a human fighter's, thick and balanced, but packed with corded muscle that looked carved rather than grown. Black hide wrapped him in plates—heat-cracked, dense, shifting with every breath.
A mane of fire hung from his skull, long strands of living flame crackling between two horns black as tar. Each inhale dragged molten air. Each exhale leaked heat through a stretched bear-like maw lined with fangs dripping something that hissed on the stone.
'He's huge. Built like Min—only meaner.'
[Say something.]
Seo-jin realized he'd been staring. But even through the surprise, something else stood out to him.
Pain hadn't knelt. He hadn't bowed.
A slow grin cut across Seo-jin's face.
"Good. Impressive."
Pain straightened further from what he thought was praise. His aura bled out in waves, no bloodlight, just raw heat that warped the air.
Seo-jin's smile held as his own skin darkened. Cracks split across him, horns grinding free with a sound like stone scraping stone. Muscle swelled. His tail snapped behind him. Bloodlight seeped outward in heavy ropes, sizzling as it pushed through Pain's heat, then drowning the room in red.
Azakh-Tur stepped forward until their chests almost touched, eyes locked.
"Do you wish to test yourself?"
Instinct detonated. The fire behind Pain's eyes blew out, replaced by a cold, primal terror. The bloodlight hitting his skin felt like execution, his aura pressing against it like sacrilege.
His aura died. His knees hit stone, the thud echoing like a dropped anvil.
"Apologies, Broodfather! I—did not mean—!"
Seo-jin moved and Pain's voice broke. A single step from his father. Close enough for the weight of it to crush thought.
Azakh-Tur's tone stayed level.
"Now you assume you offend me? How much you've grown. How did this happen without my notice? Have I raised a son bold enough to meet his father's eye already?"
Bloodlight thickened.
"Do not confuse a father's pride for anger. Stand, Pain. Meet my eye and show me your strength."
Boom!
Pain's forehead slammed the floor hard enough to shake soot from the ceiling. His whole body trembled, voice scraping out raw.
"Broodfather… I'm sorry! I—please punish me for being stupid!"
Steam poured from his back as sweat flash-boiled off him.
Looking down at him, Azakh-Tur felt no pity. Pain needed this. The brood needed this. A reminder, constant and unbroken, of who stood at the top. Even small missteps had to be crushed clean.
"You've made me proud, Pain. You've proven your strength as my son. So I won't punish you harshly. Sever a hand."
Pain didn't blink.
He shoved his left hand into his own mouth and tore it free with a wet, meaty rip. Bone snapped. Tendons whipped. He swallowed the limb in one gulp, then slammed his forehead to the floor.
"Thank you, Broodfather! I will never forget!"
Azakh-Tur watched the stump hiss and cauterize under the heat of Pain's own blood. Satisfying, but enough. The punishment was done. Now came the correction.
"Stand, son. Show me your full glory. The past is dead. Lessons don't chain you. Stand and be proud."
Azakh-Tur let his aura fall away, the oppressive weight collapsing like a shattered illusion. Kneeling, his hand shifted to human flesh as he set it on Pain's head.
"Stand. You are forgiven."
The broodlink pulsed, Pain's relief flooding through in raw waves. Muscles unknotted. Breath steadied. He rose to his full height, eyes downcast, posture respectful.
'Much better.'
[You're getting disturbingly good at this. Just a reminder—actual relationships exist. Constant psychological chokeholds may cause long-term personality—]
"Show me your aura. Don't hold back."
He moved around Pain like a butcher appraising a perfect carcass, his fingers brushing through the broodling's blazing hair as he ignored the system.
"Yes, Broodfather."
Heat detonated off Pain in an instant. Muscles inflated. Flames roared up his spine. His hair flared like a bonfire forced upright. The air pushed outward with each pulse, heatwaves hitting like invisible strikes.
Seo-jin smiled.
"That's enough."
As Pain powered down, Seo-jin lifted his panel and checked his updated profile.
His eyes widened.
'Every stat jumped by five. Not bad. Without my armor he hits harder than I do.'
[Broodling // Pain]
[Classification // Demon Spawn]
[Subclass // Scorchclaw Mutant (Ember Beast)]
[Rank // C]
[Level // 19]
[HP // 800/800]
[EXP // 26260/27694]
[Core Stats]
[STR // 40 // C]
[VIT // 35 // C]
[AGI // 28 // D]
[INT // 28 // D]
[AP // 2]
[Natural Weapons]
[Claw // E // Slashing + Burn Damage 225–229]
[Crit Chance // 10%]
[Bite // D // Piercing/Crushing Damage 238–244]
[Crit Chance // 15%]
[Notable Traits]
[Absolute Fire Resistance // S]
[Dark Vision // S]
[Wall Crawler // C]
[Stealth // D]
[Racial Abilities]
[Feed (Passive)]
[Brood Link (Passive)]
[Mutation Skills]
[Name // Inferno Rend]
[Type // Active]
[Rank // D]
[Cast Time // Instant]
[Cooldown // 4s]
[Effect]
[160% claw damage / Ignite Wound: -10% Max HP over 5s // If Burning: triggers explosion → +8% STR as AoE burn // Burn stacks independently]
[Note]
[Burn does not refresh duration; stacks separately]
[Name // Emberplate Hide]
[Type // Passive]
[Rank // D]
[Cast Time // None]
[Cooldown // None]
[Effect]
[-18% physical damage taken // Melee attackers take 20–30 burn // +5% blunt resistance // When struck: +3% claw damage for 3s]
[Name // Scorching Rush]
[Type // Active]
[Rank // D]
[Cast Time // Instant]
[Cooldown // 7s]
[Effect]
[Dash 90 ft / Impact deals 150% STR // Knockback 2–4m vs smaller targets // 35% stagger vs equal-size // Leaves heated trail: 3% Max HP burn on contact]
[Name // Predator's Lock]
[Type // Passive]
[Rank // D]
[Cast Time // None]
[Cooldown // None]
[Effect]
[Heat detection active // +20% accuracy vs fast targets // Tracks heat trails for 10s // Predicts movement within 10 ft → increases strike alignment]
[Name // Thermal Conversion]
[Type // Passive]
[Rank // D]
[Cast Time // None]
[Cooldown // None]
[Effect]
[Standing in heat/fire: +10% claw damage, +1% HP/sec // When hit by fire: +5% STR for 3s (max 3 stacks)]
It was a lot to take in. As he scrolled, his brow suddenly twitched. He leaned behind Pain to double-check.
His tail was gone. He didn't know why that irritated him, but it did. He ignored it and kept reading.
Pain didn't move. He stood like carved stone, heart punching through his ribs, the heat at his stump still glowing. Newfound power surged through him like a cooling tide, his dread from earlier fading as he reveled in it.
Seo-jin flicked a hand, stepping close.
"You've surpassed my expectations. Your very touch will scar anything that stands against you. Tell me—what do you want to do with this power?"
Pain didn't think.
He roared, voice shaking the walls.
"To kill the Broodfather's enemies! To be his fire and burn the world to his purpose!"
Seo-jin's grin sharpened as he let system-light pour over him, pulling on his clothes and armor in a quick flash.
"With you beside me, nothing will stand. Burn everything in our way. Well said, son. I can't wait—"
A deep, rolling groan ripped out of Pain's stomach.
"I—I beg forgiveness, Broodfather, I didn't mean—"
"Hush. Hunger isn't a crime."
Seo-jin waved him off with a faint chuckle.
"After that kind of refinement your guts should be screaming. Go check if any snake meat survived the night. And, enjoy the look on your brothers' faces. Remember everything so you can tell me later."
Pain couldn't hide the smile breaking across his warped muzzle. His bow was eager.
"Thank you, Broodfather! Shall I save—"
Seo-jin waved him off again.
"Just go. Eat until you stop shaking."
Pain's aura flared once, an excited pulse, then he launched himself through the doorway.
"Panic's gonna kill himself!"
His voice vanished down the hall as he barreled toward the forge. Seo-jin pictured the scene already and snorted. Panic would absolutely try to kill something.
Still chuckling, he turned to sit—then stopped.
"Oh. Right…"
He sighed.
"Whatever."
He'd deal with it later.
Dropping onto the scorched floor, back against warm stone, he opened his panel and keyed into the Network.
"Let's see what these guns can go for."
System-light flared across his lap as the twin S+ pistols materialized. Seo-jin lifted them, admiring every line of steel and crystal, waiting for the connection to stabilize.
His mind churned with all the things he could buy once they were sold.
----
Three days. Three long days of drinking, brawling, contests, and bullshit stories. Seo-jin was glad to finally be done with it.
He pulled a lungful of cold sea air, the mist stinging his face. For a second he watched the horizon roll in slow, endless waves, until a shiver crawled up his spine. The memory of the giant sea-beast hit without warning. Then that first rotten boat. The crawl across the water. His luck had carried him then. He shivered again at the stupidity.
Stepping back from the rail, he leaned against the wall, shaking off the feeling. Another sound dragged him out of it, a wet, choking gurgle from the cabin behind him.
Pain burst through the doors, staggered to the railing, and vomited smoke and rot straight into the sea. Panic shrieked with laughter from the roof, pointing down at his brother like it was the funniest thing he'd ever seen.
They were finally heading back to the mainland.
After he demanded a break in the mourning rites so he could depart, Thragdur finally relented. The Forgemaster understood the weight of command. To soften the exit, and to keep eyes on the island, Seo-jin left Snare behind. Only until they returned with food and supplies for the dwarves.
It didn't take long for the craftsmen to tear apart the boat they'd built underground and rebuild it on the surface. It wasn't large, but compared to the deathtrap he'd first arrived in, it was a huge upgrade.
And this one had rune-work. Proper masking sigils. When he admitted he crossed the ocean without anything like them, the dwarves went white. Their hatred of open water ran so deep even the bravest dwarf shrank at the idea. But they could build a damn boat. And this one didn't even need handling, it moved on voice command. Dwarvish commands, sure, but that wasn't a problem for him anymore.
One cabin. One sail. A cramped storage bay below deck, one that wasn't empty. Weapons. Armor. Tools. The dwarves called it scrap; Seo-jin called it free equipment. And one chest, heavy with the spoils Thragdur and Seo-jin divided. Snake-tribe and Lilid's loot.
A wave slammed the bow, shaking him back into the moment. Water sprayed across his face. He wiped it off, turned, and headed inside.
"How much further?"
[At our current speed, we'll reach land within the hour.]
"Good. I've been gone too damn long. The gorilla's probably ready to scream my ears off."
He shut the cabin doors behind him and swayed a little as the ship rolled, still getting used to its rhythm. He crossed the cramped space and dropped into the carved stone chair, dragging his fingers across the cold surface.
"If they slacked even a little just because I wasn't there, I'll deal with it the second we dock."
[I doubt Gregor slacks at anything. But it won't matter. Your plans have changed.]
"They haven't changed—they've adjusted. Bringing the dwarves on slowed the timeline, nothing more. Once we outfit them with resources and the Dead Hands with proper gear, the push into the city will go faster than before. Dwarven equipment alone should double their efficiency."
[You might want to rethink that.]
Scratching along the base of a Twinback Growth against the chair's backrest, Seo-jin winced as it tugged.
"And why's that?"
[You roll into the city suddenly taking territory while your people walk around dressed in dwarven steel—Woon Corporation is going to notice. You expect them to sit still while another power forms under their nose?]
"By the time they notice, it'll be too damn late. Even without the armor I'm creeping toward B rank. Once I evolve again, the gap only tightens. We move exactly how I planned, the big man in the tower won't realize he's got a snake in his garden until it bites out his throat."
[Taking this lightly won't conjure victory. This luck streak is starting to rot your brain.]
"As Panic would say—blah, blah, bla—"
The cabin door slammed open.
The broodling himself shoved his head through, panting hard.
"Land, Broodfather! Rocks and docks and all the yummy souls gettin close! Come see!"
He yanked himself back out, door hanging open on its hinges.
[He's excited.]
"We all are."
Seo-jin rose and stepped outside.
"Been too long since we ate well."
He walked to the bow. The sun knifed down from above, irritating and bright, but he shaded his eyes and squinted past the glare. Panic wasn't lying, Shatterbay sprawled across the horizon like a rusted wound.
His heart hammered like it was trying to break the ribs holding it in. Excitement surged hard enough to give him a buzz. A surprising feeling.
Then—his pulse dropped.
His eyes narrowed.
'That's my dock, isn't it?'
[Unless they moved it while you were gone—that's your dock.]
A pit opened in his gut.
"So much for luck."
Sitting right on the shoreline...right on top of the Dead Hands' main base, was a dungeon cube.
A small one.
B-rank.
[End of Arc 3....Initializing Sequential Memory Sequence...Loading....]