Chương 318: Consort of Hell

Hell stretched endlessly in every direction. It was not merely a place of flame, nor a realm of punishment born from mortal imagination. It was older than such simplistic ideas, a primordial abyss where destruction and preservation coexisted in violent contradiction. Rivers of molten ruin flowed beside mountains frozen solid by cold. Crimson lightning tore across blackened skies while storms of ash and frost devoured entire horizons.

The very ground groaned beneath the weight of imprisoned divinity, and throughout that endless inferno stood countless demonic creatures, silent now, their monstrous eyes fixed upon a single figure. The Cowardly Flame stood over the corpse of his heir. The burning hole within his chest glowed like a living furnace, radiating waves of orange light through the darkness. His charcoal-like skin cracked constantly beneath the pressure of the divine heat trapped inside him, revealing molten veins beneath the surface.

Yet despite his horrifying appearance, there was gentleness in the way he held the small Bloodscale within his hands. The little dragon stared down at Eskar's lifeless body. Its tiny claws trembled faintly. The Cowardly Flame slowly stroked the creature's crimson scales, his burned fingers surprisingly delicate against its body. Around them, the countless demons of Hell waited in absolute silence for the awakening of their future lord. Then the Founder finally spoke.

"Do you wish to become his spirit, little Bloodscale?" The small dragon looked up, its slit eyes uncertain. Conflict stirred within the young creature's gaze. Though its mind was still immature, instinctively it understood the weight behind those words. Slowly, after several moments of hesitation, it nodded. The Cowardly Flame's glowing eyes softened.

"I see," he murmured.

"You wish to continue protecting the one you consider your father." The dragon let out a low growl in response.

"Then listen carefully before you decide." The Founder's tone deepened slightly as the flames surrounding them shifted.

"If you become his spirit, your souls shall be permanently bound together. You will become his weapon, his companion, his guardian… but your body shall never again leave this plane until I myself am freed." He paused briefly, ensuring the dragon understood.

"You would exist within Hell while he walks the worlds above. He would summon your power, call upon your strength, wield your existence in battle… yet he would never again carry you beside him as he once did." The little Bloodscale lowered its gaze.

"That," the Cowardly Flame finished quietly, "is the price of keeping him safe." Silence followed. The dragon slowly turned, staring once more at Eskar's corpse lying motionless upon the black stone. His body was broken beyond recognition. One arm was gone entirely. His ruined eye remained a scarred hollow across his face. The wound through his chest still pulsed faintly around the divine heart now beating within him. The Bloodscale trembled. It understood.

If it accepted this path, it would no longer remain what it currently was. Its essence would evolve. Its body would change. Its soul would be forever tied to Hell itself. Yet through that sacrifice, Eskar would never again stand alone. Finally, the dragon lifted its head and released a small roar. A faint tongue of crimson flame escaped its jaws. The Cowardly Flame chuckled warmly.

"A spirited little thing." He slowly extended his hand toward the creature.

"I believe you shall become… something truly special." Then he dragged his clawed fingers across his palm. Bright orange blood spilled from the wound, not normal blood, but molten divine essence. The heat alone caused the surrounding demons to recoil.

"Drink," the Founder commanded softly.

"Drink my blood and become one with this plane." This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. The Bloodscale obeyed. It drank greedily, consuming every drop of the molten essence poured into its jaws. The divine blood burned through its tiny body, and the moment the final drop slid down its throat, the transformation began. The dragon screamed. Its body convulsed violently as its spine burst outward in jagged ridges resembling shredded blades.

Flames and ice erupted across its scales simultaneously, consuming its form before rebuilding it again and again in endless cycles. Bone cracked. Flesh tore apart. New limbs forced themselves into existence. Two additional wings erupted from its back. Its horns spiraled outward from its skull like twisted crowns. Its tail lengthened violently, covered now in rows of sharpened spikes. Its claws expanded into monstrous talons sharper than any forged weapon. The dragon continued growing. And growing. And growing.

Its agonized roar echoed throughout Hell as its body evolved beyond the limits of ordinary draconic existence. The transformation was unbearable, yet the creature endured it all through sheer instinctive devotion. The demons surrounding the valley watched in awe. Even the Cowardly Flame smiled wider with each passing moment. Eventually, the transformation slowed. Then stopped. Where once a tiny crimson hatchling had stood now towered a colossal dragon over one hundred meters tall at the shoulder alone.

Its scales had shifted into a magnificent blend of pale blue and blazing crimson, frost spreading endlessly across its body only to melt again beneath the unbearable heat radiating from within. The opposing elements clashed constantly upon its flesh in an eternal cycle of destruction and rebirth. Its four slit eyes moved wildly at first, unable to properly focus as its new existence stabilized itself. Then finally, slowly, the dragon lowered its massive head toward the Cowardly Flame and growled deeply.

The Founder applauded.

"Magnificent," he declared proudly.

"You have truly become a masterpiece worthy of the title of my strongest creation." The dragon stared down at him.

"My son shall be fortunate to possess you as his spirit." The Cowardly Flame smirked faintly.

"Now then… what shall your name become, O Beast of Hell?" For several moments, the dragon remained silent. Then ancient draconic words echoed throughout the abyss.

"Ishra Mistalish." The Founder raised an eyebrow.

"Consort of Hell…" he translated before laughing softly.

"A fitting name indeed." Yet before he could continue, something shifted behind him. Eskar's hand twitched. Every demon in Hell fell silent. The Cowardly Flame turned sharply, his glowing eyes narrowing.

"It is time." Then Eskar opened his eye. And Hell erupted. A colossal pillar of flame and ice exploded from his body, ascending endlessly upward until it pierced the highest reaches of the abyss itself. The infinite landscape trembled violently beneath the pressure of the awakening divine power. His missing arm reformed, not from flesh, but from living flame and frost intertwined into perfect balance. His ruined eye ignited similarly, becoming a burning fusion of crimson fire and pale blue ice.

The surrounding demons dropped to their knees. The Cowardly Flame smiled proudly.

"Can you feel it, my heir?" he asked.

"The true nature of the power you call Chasm." The Founder's burning gaze intensified.

"The God State." But Eskar barely heard him. His consciousness remained fragmented, trapped between death and rebirth. His body trembled violently beneath the overwhelming power flooding through him. Around him, the flames spreading from his awakening expanded rapidly, consuming the endless reaches of Hell itself and bathing the abyss in the presence of its new lord. Then slowly, finally, Eskar steadied himself. His remaining eye opened fully.

"This promise I made…" he murmured weakly. His gaze shifted first toward the Cowardly Flame, then upward toward the colossal dragon towering behind him. Toward Ishra Mistalish. His spirit. A smirk slowly crossed his face.

"It seems," he whispered, "that I may yet fulfill it after all… my god." The Cowardly Flame laughed softly, excitement burning within his molten eyes.

"Yes," he said.

"Very good." Then his expression hardened.

"But power beyond your control is merely another path toward destruction." He raised one hand. Immediately, the flames and ice surrounding Eskar recoiled violently. The divine arm and eye formed from pure elemental essence were stripped away from him and absorbed into the Founder's grasp. As they vanished, Eskar staggered slightly, his overwhelming aura stabilizing. His expression changed instantly. The unnatural calm and overwhelming divinity faded from his face, leaving behind confusion and awe.

"That power…" he whispered.

"What did you give me?" The Cowardly Flame chuckled.

"A gift you earned." He folded his arms behind his back.

"It resembles Chasm, yet unlike the corrupted version you inherited, this power shall not destroy your body merely for existing." His eyes glowed brighter.

"For now, however, you are capable only of wielding my flames. Such is the curse your dear friend placed upon me long ago." The Founder's expression darkened slightly.

"But in time," he continued, "even my ice shall answer your call." Eskar stared at him in stunned silence. Then confusion overtook him once more.

"I… don't understand," he admitted quietly.

"I thought finding you meant I could free you." The Founder blinked. Then laughed softly to himself.

"The answer is both yes and no." He extended his hand toward Eskar.

"But freeing me is no longer your duty." Flames gathered around his palm.

"There remains much for you to accomplish before you are worthy of awakening the fullness of our power." Eskar hesitated.

"So everything I believed in was false hope?" The Cowardly Flame's expression softened unexpectedly.

"No," he answered firmly.

"Never that." Then he grabbed Eskar's hand tightly.

"Listen carefully, my heir." The abyss trembled around them.

"Go forth and show this dying world the return of our flame." The Founder's voice echoed across Hell itself.

"Show them the hope we once represented." His molten eyes burned brighter than stars.

"For from this day onward, I acknowledge you…" Flames erupted violently around Eskar's body.

"…as the Flame of Conviction destined to guide this new era." Eskar's eye widened. Then the flames swallowed him whole. His body vanished from Hell entirely, returning him to the frozen wasteland above, to Frost, to the Tower, and to the world awaiting his return. Yet Ishra Mistalish remained behind. Bound eternally to Hell. Bound eternally to Eskar's soul. The colossal dragon watched silently as its master disappeared. The Cowardly Flame chuckled quietly beside it.

"He has grown considerably," the Founder murmured. Then his molten gaze lifted toward the endless darkness above.

"Now let us see," he said softly, "how long it takes my son to discover the true nature of the power I have entrusted to him."