Swire witnessed the flames surging into the clouds. Looking at this sudden occurrence, she opened her mouth but didn't know what to say.
"Wait—the Pink Sausage Dragon is still inside!"
Swire finally remembered that Ch'en and the others were still deep beneath the building dealing with those things! Weren't they currently trapped right in the center of that fire?
"Hey... Hey! Pink Sausage Dragon, can you hear me? ...Ch'en Hui-chieh! Speak to me!"
It seemed that due to the massive fire, their radio communicators had malfunctioned. Nothing could be heard from the broken device except a deathly silence.
"Damn it! Didn't the merchant say this thing wouldn't fail? Why is there no response now?" Swire angrily slapped the communicator, desperate to hear that annoying voice from within. "Setting off a fire without a word, and now cutting off contact... when you get out, I am absolutely not letting you off!"
At this moment, Swire was gnashing her teeth so hard they nearly broke, her tail swaying uneasily behind her. The officers beside her, seeing their superior so anxious, wanted to find a way to comfort her but didn't know what to say in such a moment.
"Please stay calm, Officer Swire! You must believe in Ch'en right now!"
Hoshiguma, having returned from the front, walked up to her and tried to soothe her visibly shaken superior. She, too, looked toward the burning building with eyes full of worry, but she knew she could do nothing. Even if she wanted to rush in to save them, the fierce flames would turn her to ash.
"I know. My emotions won't interfere with my command! I'm just worried... forget it, let's not talk about it."
Swire turned to begin directing the LGD officers. At this time, they had to be wary not only of any walking dead that might escape but also of the elusive reporters and onlookers. She didn't tell Hoshiguma her real fear: that Ch'en had started this fire herself to solve the unkillable monsters as quickly as possible. And that Ch'en... likely intended to sacrifice herself. Given her personality, she was capable of such a thing.
However, she didn't know that the person she feared was sacrificing herself was currently underground, staring dumbfounded at a scene that could only be called a miracle.
The world before Ch'en had turned into an ocean of black thorns and fire. The crimson flames scorched everything, turning all matter within sight to ash. Amidst the roaring fire, Ch'en watched as the massive, fused walking dead dissolved into dust, and even the giant Originium crystals within them vanished without a trace.
"It's truly magical. We're clearly wrapped in these flames, yet we aren't affected by them at all," Lemuen remarked quite casually as she watched the raging fire before her. She didn't seem worried about her safety at all—or rather, she believed Jeanne would definitely succeed.
"Indeed. By all logic, we should have died from lack of oxygen long ago," Ch'en said, breathing in the slightly sulfurous scent of the fire. She looked at the flames and at Jeanne, who was surrounded by them, with a curious gaze.
Based on Ch'en's understanding of fire-based Originium Arts, even if the fire was created by an Art, its basic properties shouldn't change. When burning, the fire should consume the surrounding oxygen, making breathing extremely difficult. But the current fire was completely different. As she breathed, she didn't feel the air or the temperature was excessively hot, nor did she feel any difficulty breathing. The current temperature reminded Ch'en of a volcano she had passed during a mission while studying in Victoria. While higher than usual, it wasn't enough to affect breathing.
"It's as if... the fire Jeanne lit is different from our understanding. The fuel for this fire isn't just oxygen and Originium."
Looking at the flames, Ch'en felt an urge to reach out and sense them. Since her mindset had broken through with Jeanne's help, she seemed able to perceive things she usually ignored—such as the emotions of those around her. But sensing others' emotions was still very weak; it felt more like an improvement in reading people, being able to guess their mood based on facial changes.
Experienced criminal investigators could do this too, sometimes determining if someone was guilty with a single glance. But here, in this place where souls gathered like a tide, Ch'en felt as if countless people were whispering in her ear. The sounds were blurry, as if they were speaking through a barrier. She guessed these voices were hidden within the flames.
Taking advantage of a moment when the others weren't looking, Ch'en reached out to a stray flicker of fire. The moment she touched it, her vision went pitch black.
If Jeanne had the time to notice, she would have stopped Ch'en's suicidal move. Touching fire ignited by malice? Did she think it was as simple as a burn? It was something that could truly kill a person! If an ordinary person touched such malice, their mind would be consumed by those terrible emotions within ten seconds, turning them into a mindless lunatic. As for those who had committed great evils, the vengeful spirits clinging to them would be ignited by the fire, turning them to ash.
But Jeanne currently had no energy to watch over them. She had to exert every ounce of effort to keep the fire from expanding outward. Normally, when Jeanne used her Noble Phantasm, it wouldn't form such a sky-piercing cross of fire; wouldn't it be better to just spread it across the ground to burn enemies?
The problem was that the surroundings wouldn't allow her fire to expand unchecked as it had in the past. If she did that, she felt she'd gain the title of "Arsonist" alongside her status as a Saint of Laterano. Therefore, she struggled to control the direction of the fire while enduring the impact of the negative emotions ignited by her own flames. Fortunately, her will was firm, and she wouldn't be turned into an evil spirit seeking revenge on the world.
"Everyone, get ready. we need to find a way out of here soon. Eh? Ch'en, what's wrong?"
After a while, the fire was mostly suppressed and controlled by Jeanne. Instead of expanding, it gathered and began its march toward the sky—the march belonging to those souls. Communicating with the collective consciousness within the flames, Jeanne found that while they sought revenge on their enemies, they also knew not to involve Lungmen. They knew those who harmed them didn't belong to Lungmen—at least, they didn't represent the true Lungmen.
The fire built by these innocent souls climbed higher, seeking a height from which they could find all their enemies. Under the searing heat, the structure of the secret room began to fail. Massive steel structures melted into liquid iron, and load-bearing pillars vanished. If they didn't evacuate, they would be buried.
Jeanne turned back only to see Ch'en looking deathly pale and extremely weak. She seemed to have exhausted a massive amount of energy. Jeanne couldn't figure out what happened. Was it a lack of oxygen? But she had controlled the ventilation, and the other two were fine!
Lemuen and Gin both shook their heads; they hadn't been paying attention to Ch'en and hadn't seen her small movement.
"I'm fine. It's just the side effect of using that sword technique earlier. I was suppressing it, but it hit me once I relaxed." Ch'en quickly made up an excuse. Seeing that she seemed okay otherwise, no one asked further. The sword technique she used at the end did look like a sudden burst of power.
What they didn't notice, however, was that Ch'en's eyes were filled with deep self-reproach.