The air on the sixth level had become unbearably hot and dry. Each breath scorched the lungs, and trickles of molten stone ran down the walls, flashing crimson in the pitch darkness of the dungeon. The squad pressed forward, drenched in sweat, their leather armor covered in salt stains.
Finally, the tunnel widened, opening into a cyclopean hall. The walls here were of black volcanic glass, reflecting the hellish glow emanating from the center of the chamber. There, on an island of solidified lava, rested the spear-staff. Long, its shaft of dark wood, the socket crowned with a round crystal in which imprisoned flames danced. Such intense heat radiated from it that the air shimmered as if above a red-hot stove.
But something else blocked the path to the relic. Between them and the staff stretched a corridor of raging flame, and at its center floated a being woven from pure fire. It had no definite form — only a core of dazzling whiteness and the tongues of flame swirling around it, like wings. An ancient elemental. The spirit of this place.
— No arrow can take that one down, — Corvus stated grimly, gripping his sword hilt. — And you can't engage it in close combat. We'd burn alive.
— It's not attacking, — Valos observed, watching carefully. — It's... guarding. Look. — He threw a fragment of stone toward the corridor's edge. The flame surged toward it fiercely, burning a black mark on the floor, but did not leave its position. — It only reacts to those who try to pass.
— What do you propose? — Corvus asked, and through the usual steel in his voice, concern crept in. — Storm the wall of fire?
— No, — Valos slowly shook his head, his gaze fixed on the hovering elemental. — It's a guardian. And every guardian has its rules. Brute force won't work here. — He paused, pondering a mad thought. «It's testing. Testing if you are worthy.» — I need to walk through that corridor.
Corvus turned sharply to him. — That's suicide.
— Perhaps. But look at it! It's not just a monster. In its fire, there is... purity. Intent. It doesn't burn everything indiscriminately — it tests. I must prove that we are not mere looters here for a shiny trinket.
— And how will you prove that?
— I'll walk through its fire. Alone. Unarmed. — Valos was already shrugging off his worn doublet, then his belt with the purse. He left only a simple shirt and trousers. — If I'm right, it will let me pass. If not... — He smirked bitterly. — ...well, at least you'll have time to retreat.
— My lord, this is madness!
— Our whole life is madness. Just today's is particularly spectacular.
The heat was so intense that the skin on his face immediately began to redden. He squeezed his eyes shut, forcing himself to take another step. «I'm not a hero. I'm a con artist and a cynic. But right now, I need to play the role of a brave man. Play it so convincingly that even the fire believes me.»
He stepped into the wall of flame.
The pain was all-consuming. White and absolute. It felt as though every muscle, every cell of his body screamed in agony. Through the narrow slit of his squinted eyes, he saw only blinding whiteness. But he didn't stop. One step. Another step. He walked by feel, sensing his hair singeing, the fabric of his shirt smoldering on his shoulders.
«I am Yuki Kato. I was killed in a filthy alley. I will not die here. Not now.»
Fragments of knowledge from the books he had read surfaced in his mind. Elementals were beings of pure elements. Their nature was the nature of their element. Fire was not just destruction. It was purification. Transformation. Life fed by the death of the old.
Suddenly, the pain receded. Or rather, it didn't vanish, but transformed. The suffocating heat gave way to a sensation of... energy. Powerful, all-consuming, but not hostile. He opened his eyes.
He stood at the epicenter of the storm, but the flames did not devour him. They flowed around him, like liquid sunlight, touching his skin with a thousand hot but not scorching tongues.
He stood, stripped bare before the ancient power, not as a conqueror, but as a supplicant. And in that moment, something changed.
The flame condensed around him, then receded, coalescing into a winged form behind the core. The Fire Phoenix, the spirit of this place, slowly bowed its radiant head.
The wall of fire vanished as suddenly as it had appeared. Valos, trembling from the ordeal, stood before the stone pedestal. He reached out and took the Fire Spear-Staff. The wood was surprisingly cool to the touch, but the crystal at its peak flared brighter, acknowledging its new master.
When he turned, he saw Corvus. He stood on the other side of the corridor, his face frozen in mute shock.
— Valos? — Corvus called quietly, taking a step forward.
Valos tried to smile, but his lips were cracked from the heat. — It's alright, Corvus. We got what we came for.
He took a step, and his legs gave way. The swordsman lunged forward, catching him before he collapsed to the floor.
— You need a healer.
— First we need to get out of here, — Valos whispered, gripping the Spear-Staff.
And as the squad began their return journey, Valos, leaning against Corvus, cast a final glance at the center of the hall. Where the Fire Phoenix had hovered moments before, now there was only emptiness. But the smell of ozone and ash still lingered in the air.