CHAPTER 176: CH 176: OBTAINING A FIRE AFFINITY (PART 1) EDITED

A slow dread crept over Dave as he crouched beside one of the bodies, scanning their burnt body, their height, anything to indicate whether one of them could be Eric. But it was impossible to tell. The fire had stripped them of identity. Still, deep inside, Dave was praying and pleading, that Eric’s body wasn’t among them.

His jaw tightened.

Whatever happened here was no random wildfire, nor a meteor strike or beast stampede. This was targeted. Cold-blooded. The kind of thing someone does when they want to make sure nothing—no one—survives. But who could have committed something so cruel? And why?

A noise snapped him out of his spiraling thoughts.

A soft shuffle, like a foot pressing into loose debris, sounded behind him.

He didn’t turn right away, thinking it might be one of the girls returning. His mouth opened slightly as he called out. "Ella? Sun?"

But there was no answer.

A second later, just as he began to glance over his shoulder—

A thick, heavy log swung from the shadows like a battering ram, its velocity was sharp, fueled by murderous intent. It crashed against the side of Dave’s skull with a deafening CRACK! A sound loud enough to make birds scatter from nearby rooftops.

But it wasn’t Dave who buckled.

Instead, the log had shattered upon impact, splintering into two jagged pieces that clattered to the ground. The attacker stumbled back, eyes wide beneath his mask, disbelief etched in every inch of his posture.

Dave didn’t so much as flinch.

He rose slowly, the dim light of the ruined room casting ominous shadows across his expression. His neck rolled with a subtle crack as he straightened, then his gaze locked onto the figure before him; cold, unblinking, and heavy as steel.

The man who had struck him was clad in black, a tight-fitting outfit suited for stealth, and his face was hidden behind a smooth, expressionless mask. It was the same kind Dave had seen more than once now; three times to be exact. And he had also got to learn that they all belonged to the Tai faction.

The masked man’s confidence faltered. His stance shifted. He stared at Dave like he was staring at something inhuman, something unbreakable. Not a drop of blood, not a bruise could be found on his head. It was as if his skull were made of iron.

Dave took a step forward, his voice low and razor-sharp. "Who are you?" he asked. "And why the hell did you just try to kill me?"

"I... I..." The masked man faltered, momentarily overwhelmed by the sheer pressure radiating from Dave. He wavered, his breath hitching as if the very air around him had thickened.

But then he snapped back, steeling his nerves.

In one swift motion, he raised a single hand, and a flame sparked to life in his palm. It started as a flicker, harmless and small. But within seconds, it surged into a roaring ball of fire, the heat palpable even from several feet away. With a roar, the man hurled it toward Dave.

The flame whooshed through the air like a meteor.

But to Dave, it might as well have been moving in slow motion.

He sidestepped with smooth precision, the fireball narrowly missing him and crashing into the wall behind. The explosion blasted a gaping hole through the charred structure, revealing a clear view of the outside street as debris rained around them.

Dave’s eyes narrowed.

"I don’t know who’s pulling your strings," he growled, his voice calm but deadly. "But I’m going to kill your leader, whoever he is."

"If you want to do that," the masked man said, "then you’ll have to get through me first!"

He raised both hands now, and flames ignited on his command. They were much larger this time. Glowing, swirling spheres of fire burst forth from his palms in rapid succession. He began launching them with ferocious speed, filling the room with fiery death.

But Dave... moved like wind.

He twisted, ducked, and shifted with effortless grace, the fireballs missing him by inches, slamming into walls, furniture, and floorboards, sending up clouds of smoke and ash.

To the attacker, it was like trying to hit a phantom.

And then—!

A glowing notification flickered just above Dave’s line of sight, faintly visible.

[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]

[Drain the human’s energy to obtain a Fire Affinity]

Dave’s lips curled into a cold smirk.

The moment he saw the notification, a single thought burned through his mind like a lit fuse: IT’S TIME!

Time to unlock the third power that was said that Exus had. Time to finally close the gap between them.

And maybe, just maybe, if he succeeded in taking this god down, he might finally be able to put an end to the endless chain of killings, destruction, and bloodshed that had plagued the entire world.

His jaw tightened with resolve. The weight of every corpse he had passed, every ruined building, every tear shed by the innocent, all of it fueled the decision now forming in his chest like fire in a furnace.

His gaze snapped back to the masked man, who stood a few meters away, already preparing another sphere of fire in his palm. The air shimmered around the man’s hand, flames curling like serpents, eager to be unleashed.

Dave took a slow step forward, his tone calm but laced with scorn.

"You know," he said, voice like a blade being unsheathed, "you’ve been tossing those little fireballs at me for a while now... and you haven’t landed a single hit. If you were omeone with a brain, you would have tried something different by now."

But the masked man didn’t respond. He hurled another fireball with a grunt, the blazing orb cutting through the smoky air.

Dave shifted his weight and stepped aside with casual grace. The fireball slammed into the scorched wall behind him and exploded into embers.

A smirk ghosted across Dave’s face.

"You said I’d have to go through you first," he continued, circling slowly like a predator sizing up its prey. "But all I’ve seen is you throwing tantrums like a pyromaniac toddler. If your leader’s anything like you, I almost feel sorry for him. Almost."

The masked man let out a low snarl. "You fool," he spat. "I may not be strong enough to kill you, but our leader... he’ll crush you. With one attack. You won’t even see it coming."

Dave’s eyes lit with a glint of challenge. "Is that so? Then I hope I could meet him and find that out. But first..."

Before the masked man could react, Dave blurred forward in a flash of motion, faster than the eye could track. In an instant, he was no longer across the room, but right in front of the man.

He seized the masked attacker by the throat with one hand and slammed him hard against the opposite wall. The plaster cracked behind his back, dust falling from the ceiling. The masked man let out a wheeze as his feet lifted off the ground, his fire sputtering out from his fingers.

Dave’s voice dropped to a dangerous whisper, each word rumbling with barely contained fury.

"You’re going to tell me what happened here," he said, leaning in until his face were nearly touching his mask. "These six bodies behind me... the ones burned beyond recognition... That was your doing, wasn’t it? You torched them like they were nothing but animal?!"

The man struggled, squirming in Dave’s grip, but couldn’t escape. His arms flailed, then dropped. He was caught like a rat before the butcher’s knife.

Dave’s eyes narrowed, his voice colder now. "You think fire makes you powerful. But fire burns both ways, friend. And I’m about to show you what it’s like to be on the other end."

...

Elsewhere in the crumbling neighborhood, the two women continued their silent search, each navigating different paths among the wrecked homes and forgotten streets. They moved swiftly but cautiously, weaving between collapsed walls and overgrown fences, eyes scanning for any sign of Eric—or anyone who might have survived the devastation.

But neither of them realized that their every step was being watched.

Shadows trailed their movements—quiet and deliberate, like wolves stalking prey. Unseen figures lingered just out of sight, their presence like a chill in the wind. The air felt heavier. Tighter. But the women, too focused on their mission, didn’t notice. Not yet.

Ella had just finished inspecting the interior of a half-standing building, its upper floor completely caved in while the lower level barely clung to structure. The walls were cracked, the windows shattered, but it was still intact enough to search. She had checked every room, every corner, even beneath the debris—and found nothing. Just more silence. More ruin.

She sighed and turned back toward the entrance, brushing a cobweb from her shoulder.

Then she heard it.

A sound—soft, but unmistakable. A footstep, light and deliberate, crunching against loose gravel just beyond the threshold.

Ella paused mid-step.

Her heart gave a small jolt.

"Eric?" she called out, voice tentative, hopeful. "Is that you?"

No answer.

For a beat, only silence responded. Then, like smoke slipping into a room, a figure emerged in the doorway.

He was tall and lean, dressed in dark, battle-worn robes. A smooth, bone-white mask covered his face, featureless except for narrow slits where cold, calculating eyes peered through. The moment Ella saw him, every instinct in her screamed that this was not Eric. Not even close.

The man said nothing.

Instead, he lifted both arms slowly, like a puppeteer raising invisible strings. Wind began to spiral around his hands—thin at first, then thickening into twisting columns of air that spun violently in place. The gusts howled, lifting dust and broken leaves into a swirling dance around him, the pressure in the room shifting with an ominous force.

Ella backed up instinctively, her breath caught in her throat. She didn’t dare blink.

The wind coiled tighter around his hands, glowing faintly with magical energy. For a brief second, time seemed to slow—just enough for Ella to feel the raw fear crackling in her chest.

And then—without warning—the masked man hurled the storm toward her.

The compressed wind roared across the room like a cannon blast.