The Academy's sorcerers had expelled Primeval Sorcerer Azur, but they hadn't allowed such a dangerous master of sorcery to wander freely. Instead, they imprisoned him in a Demi-Human village on the eastern slopes of Mt. Gelmir, placing him under the supervision of the Demi-Humans and several elite conspectus sorcerers.
Reaching the village was no easy task. The road up Mt. Gelmir followed a gradually ascending spiral, requiring travelers to circle the volcano counterclockwise before eventually reaching Volcano Manor. The Demi-Human village stood near the final stretch of that route.
Unfortunately, the road was absolutely crawling with monsters and other horrors.
Not long after entering the volcanic region from the eastern foothills, Skyl and his companions encountered a group of stranded soldiers from Leyndell.
They had been without food or water supplies for more than a year, surviving by eating the corpses of their fallen comrades.
At first, they had simply consumed the dead left behind on the battlefield.
Once those bodies ran out, they began drawing lots to determine who would die next. Whoever drew the losing lot would drink an essential oil extracted from Trina's Lilies, fall into a deathlike sleep, and then be slaughtered and divided among the others.
Eventually, nobody was willing to draw lots anymore.
The soldiers resorted to ambushing and murdering their comrades whenever they let their guard down.
Despite everything, these men had somehow retained their will to fight. They had even reorganized their surviving forces on several occasions and launched renewed assaults against Volcano Manor's defenses.
A considerable number, however, had fallen into despair after enduring such inhuman suffering, leaving them vulnerable to the influence of the Frenzied Flame.
Skyl's party brought news of the royal army's westward expedition.
Upon hearing it, the stranded soldiers immediately dispatched a squad of scouts to verify the information. They also sent messengers to contact the other scattered units still surviving throughout the volcanic region.
Numerous suspicious bones lay buried in the campfires, and the soldiers exchanged uneasy glances whenever anyone looked too closely. It was clear that they had all participated in cannibalism.
Melina informed the soldiers that everyone afflicted by the Frenzied Flame had to be killed.
An elderly knight stared at her for a long moment.
"Do you understand that these men are our brothers-in-arms? We swore to protect one another's backs. I know we no longer deserve to speak of such vows, but even so, they cannot be allowed to die at the hands of an outsider like you."
"Regardless of who they once were, anyone corrupted by the Frenzied Flame becomes an enemy of all life."
The Frenzied Flame was a world-ending fire born from the despair of living beings, a flame of vengeance that utterly rejected the existence of everything.
Its purpose was to destroy every distinction separating one life from another, returning the entire universe to its original state of primordial chaos.
At first glance, its philosophy sounded like the sort of edgy declaration a teenager might make: "I'm not the problem. The whole world is wrong!"
But the history of the Frenzied Flame was far more than the emotional outburst of a few ignorant adolescents. The truth behind it was extraordinarily brutal and cruel.
The groups blessed by the Frenzied Flame throughout the Lands Between had all suffered unimaginable tragedies.
There were the Nomadic Merchants, whose entire clan had been buried alive; the enslaved Trolls whose abdomens had been gouged out; and the remnants of armies driven to slaughter one another.
Only after enduring such horrifying trauma, experiences that completely destroyed everything they had once valued in life, did these unfortunate souls become infected by the Frenzied Flame.
The power itself was a curse upon its victims. No ordinary person would willingly embrace it.
Melina understood the dangers of the Frenzied Flame better than most.
Calling it the nuclear weapon of the Lands Between would hardly be an exaggeration. If the flame were allowed to spread unchecked, every living thing in the world would ultimately perish.
The Erdtree represented the Greater Will's original system for accumulating capital by harvesting souls, while the Frenzied Flame served as its instrument for wiping the slate clean.
Those who truly understood the destructive power of a nuclear explosion were precisely the ones who feared it most.
Seeing that neither side was willing to yield, Skyl stepped forward to mediate.
"If you don't mind, I could try treating them. I can use Talismans to isolate the influence of the Frenzied Flame, although I can't guarantee they'll return to their former selves. They'll need tremendous willpower and an entirely new life to overcome the trauma of this war."
He looked at the exhausted soldiers.
"When you get home, make the most of your lives. Your King Godfrey intends to bring an end to war throughout the Lands Between."
Melina pressed her lips together.
She didn't agree with his approach, but she made no attempt to stop him.
Her trust in Skyl was even greater than her fear of the Frenzied Flame.
As the flame's influence faded and the royal army drew near, the soldiers who had long since run out of tears finally began to weep again.
They were going home.
Having resolved the stranded soldiers' predicament, the travelers resumed their journey.
By then, evening was approaching.
Along the way, they encountered a Magma Wyrm lurking in a lake of molten rock.
These creatures were said to have once been human. After consuming too many dragon hearts, however, they had transformed into dragons themselves.
They were condemned to crawl along the ground, incapable of flight.
Millicent looked at the creature with a rather nostalgic expression.
"I've killed quite a few Magma Wyrms, you know."
For the current Millicent, slaying a Magma Wyrm was a trivial matter.
Her Shehai could alternate between force damage and psychic damage, or combine both simultaneously. It could sever flesh and spirit alike, a power system fully deserving of its Legendary-tier classification.
The Magma Wyrm possessed an extraordinarily powerful body, but its soul was comparatively feeble.
Millicent thrust her sword through the top of its skull.
The creature immediately became a lifelike corpse, its body appearing almost untouched despite the fact that it was already dead.
For this little traveling party, the encounter amounted to nothing more than a minor interruption.
However, inside the Magma Wyrm's lair, they discovered a familiar figure.
Alexander, the Warrior Jar, was taking a bath in the lava.
"Mmm... Oh... Mmmm... Hm? Why, if it isn't you! We meet again! Hahahaha!"
Alexander was always an enormous, cheerful fellow with a rather simpleminded air about him.
And, to be fair, he really was a little foolish.
"As you can see, I'm using this lava to temper myself!"
Skyl and the others immediately noticed the numerous cracks running across the Warrior Jar's exterior.
"Hahaha..."
Alexander forced out a laugh.
"Ah, there's no fooling you, is there? I'm a rather useless jar, I'm afraid. If it hadn't been for you, Lady Malenia, and Lady Ranni, we never could have won that battle against General Radahn.
"Just one blow from him left my entire body covered in cracks. I very nearly died!"
He paused before continuing in a more cheerful tone.
"Fortunately, I managed to collect the remains of many warriors! They were heroes of the Shattering, every one of them, and their strength shall become my own! I'm certain they'll make me even mightier!
"That's why I came here. I hoped the heat of the lava would repair and strengthen my vessel.
"Unfortunately, it doesn't seem to be hot enough.
"I've heard that an extraordinarily powerful flame burns atop the Mountaintops of the Giants. Perhaps I ought to travel there and give it a try!"
In reality, a ceramic jar that had already cracked couldn't simply be restored by heating it again.
No amount of heat would solve the problem.
Alexander's condition was effectively terminal.
There was an old saying that a pitcher could only go to the well so many times before it broke, just as a general who spent his life fighting could hardly expect to avoid death on the battlefield forever.
Alexander was both a pitcher and a warrior.
His death seemed doubly inevitable.
But if there was one thing Skyl despised, it was inevitability.
He hadn't studied magic to surrender to fate.
He had studied it to create miracles.
If he possessed the power to prevent a tragedy, then he would do everything he could to prevent it.
As a god, he was different from ordinary mortals. There was nothing he stood to lose.
And so, Skyl extended his hand toward Alexander.
"The Giants' Flame won't fix you. Besides, there's no need to travel all that way. I can make you good as new right here with a simple [Reparo]."
The moment he finished speaking, Alexander felt a gentle breeze pass straight through his body from the man's outstretched hand.
An intensely ticklish sensation spread across his entire vessel.
Unable to contain himself, he burst into laughter.
When he finally stopped laughing, he tapped the side of his jar.
A clear, crisp sound rang out.
Every crack had completely disappeared.
"Th-this! This is incredible! Marika above! Are you a Potentate?!"
"No. Even the finest Potentate couldn't accomplish something like this."
Skyl smiled.
"This is magic. A miracle capable of changing fate itself."
"Thank you! Thank you so very much!"
Alexander's gratitude overflowed.
"But why did you save me? Oh, if you'd rather not say, you don't have to tell me!
"Nevertheless, I, Iron Fist Alexander, shall remember you forever, my friend!"
"It's quite simple. I don't like tragedies, and I have the power to prevent them."
Skyl looked at the enormous jar with a smile.
"There's something I forgot to tell you the last time we met. You're actually one of my favorite characters, too.
"Never give up fighting, my friend. Until fate brings us together again, Alexander, the Warrior Jar!"
The travelers continued on their way.
By the time darkness completely enveloped the mountains, they had reached an open hillside, where they decided to establish their camp and bring the day's journey to an end.
Skyl prepared all the necessary supplies for the campsite.
Before everyone settled down for the night, however, one of his companions approached him to initiate a conversation.
It was Millicent.
"Skyl, shall we share a tent tonight?"
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