Chapter 21: Transfer of Ownership
From the tip of the heavy blade, an ember of fire lit up, slowly making its way around the blade, swirling like a vortex of flame. Jethro watched as a cold fist of fear tightened around his heart.
He hadn’t expected to go this way. Not when this expedition started, not even when the first high-rank Darcbeast appeared.
For whatever naive reason, he had believed he would survive and return to Nebulon, finish the single year in the Academy, and go back to his father.
Live the simple, predictable life of a mechvet’s son.
But now, all of that washed away in the blink of an eye— the very moment that ember of flame lit from the blade’s tip.
Facing certain death was an incredibly profound experience; the ragged and shallow breathing, the surge of fearful adrenaline that forced him to notice every detail of his killer; his slit-pupiled eyes, the curved edge of his boot, the crystal orb in the center of his helm.
Time slowed down unbearably, and seconds started to feel like eternity.
To think that he had transmigrated into this world, only to die. It was a bitter fate to accept. So he tried to deny the inevitability of his death, but when the flame charged to its fullest and the word, "Burn" left Decterion’s lips, Jethro knew it was his end.
Unbelievably so.
From the blade, fire burst forward in a gushing inferno that swallowed Jethro whole. His head snapped backwards instantly in blinding pain as fire wrapped around his body, crashing into him like a tsunami of hell.
Jethro’s lungs seized immediately. The heat clawed at his skin. His flesh began to sizzle like meat on a stove. His body convulsed under the weight of it, his fingers tightened like claws, and his muscles clenched inside of him.