Silas could not tear his gaze from the ancient man. Raw power radiated, a force that bent the very light around him. It was more than sheer size, more than the scars etched into his face; it was a presence that chilled Silas to the bone, a terror that felt primal. Like standing naked before a gale of volcanic ash, defenseless. Every nerve screamed surrender. “Still mute, boy?” The ancient man’s voice, a gravelly rumble, sliced through the air. “Name yourself, or you’ll join the dust.” Silas’s throat constricted. He managed a whisper. “Silas.” “Silas?” The man scoffed. “A wisp of a name for a solid world.” No reply formed on Silas’s lips. To hastily oppose this titan felt like inviting annihilation, a crocodile’s snap to his fragile form. “So!” Vorlag’s gaze intensified. “How did you breach the Cinder-maw? Not through the gate I cleaved.” “An underground passage,” Silas managed, the words catching. “I was working in the ancient quarry. A wall collapsed, and it… drew me in.” “Heh. The Breach-Trap.” A humorless chuckle escaped Vorlag. “Sometimes, a Cinder-maw like this overfills with primal heat. It sheds an aperture to vent, drawing in life, releasing the pressure.” Vorlag shook his head. “Ill-fortune dogs you, boy. Few touch a Breach-Trap and live.” He openly ridiculed Silas’s misfortune. Silas could offer no retort. Indeed, relentless ill-fortune did seem to haunt him, just as the old man said. A spark of defiance, fueled by sheer desperation, ignited within Silas. He gathered his courage. “Who are you? Where… is this place?” “Vorlag,” the ancient man declared, his eyes burning like embers. “And this? My hunting ground now.” Silas shivered. This was no empty boast. Vorlag’s fierce gaze, the storm-like madness emanating from him, spoke only truth. Then, from the river of molten rock, colossal forms emerged. Ash-Leviathans, their scales like obsidian shards, teeth like shattered rock, heaved themselves from the lava. They charged, immense jaws agape. Vorlag merely chuckled. As his words faded, a massive, rune-etched sword, embedded in the scorched earth, trembled. Then it floated into the air. Vorlag snatched it, his grip absolute. Ember-Heart. Instantly, searing light erupted from the blade. A resonant tremor pulsed through the Cinder-maw, vibrating through the ground, through Silas’s very bones. Silas’s face contorted. His heart pounded, a frantic drum against his ribs. A metallic tang rose in his mouth. The sword’s cry was not exciting; it was an uncomfortable scrape on his nerves, a discord in the silent world of ash. He wasn't alone in this discomfort. Stimulated by Ember-Heart’s resonance, the charging Ash-Leviathans convulsed, their movements becoming erratic, frenzied. Not only them, but creatures from every corner of the volcanic zone emerged. Flying beasts, wings of smoke and bone, darkened the already dim sky. Massive ground-shakers, larger than the Leviathans, heaved into view. All charged toward Vorlag. Unable to comprehend the sheer scale of it, Silas stood agape. The true madness, however, had only just begun. Vorlag, Ember-Heart singing with heat, dashed toward the monsters. The massive bodies of the Ash-Leviathans were torn asunder. Their tough, resilient hides parted like wet ash. It was not only the Leviathans. Various unknown creatures, grotesque and fearsome, were ruthlessly cut down. Vorlag moved like a storm. Swept away by his massive whirlwind, monsters were sent flying, crashing into the lava flows, into the volcanic debris filling the air. All were consumed by the tempest that was Vorlag. “What rank of power is that?” Silas whispered, barely audible above the din. A staggering display of might, seemingly without any specific ability. He relied on nothing but his inherent strength and the greatsword, Ember-Heart, to slaughter the monstrous horde. Before long, Vorlag stood amidst piles of dead monsters. Maniacal laughter echoed through the Cinder-maw. Swinging Ember-Heart, slick with monster ichor and ash, he appeared nothing like a human. He was a force, an elemental fury disguised in flesh. Silas felt overwhelmed by Vorlag’s madness. He could not move a finger, could barely draw a breath. A rhinoceros-like creature, its hide like cooling basalt, was the last to fall. No monster remained on the ground. Vorlag had single-handedly decimated the horde. Yet, he showed no signs of fatigue. Silas unconsciously swallowed dry saliva. Then it happened. A roar erupted from the volcano’s peak. At the sound, Silas’s mind went blank. Struggling to hold onto his senses, he saw a colossal monster emerging from the summit. The majesty of the gigantic creature, reminiscent of a dragon from ancient Aerthos legends, left Silas frozen. Its scales were crimson, reflecting the lava below, its body stretching thirty meters, wings impossibly longer when extended. “That’s not a dragon,” Silas thought, a whisper of understanding. Vorlag smiled, a predatory grin. “You’re finally here. Ash-Drake!” Silas trembled at the Drake’s presence, something he had never encountered in his life. The crimson aura surrounding its body contrasted starkly with its emergence from the lava. A monster of B-rank and above, its aura indicating physical prowess and elemental affinity. Vorlag tightened his grip on Ember-Heart. “That bastard is the final guardian of this Cinder-maw.” Even facing the Cinder-maw’s ultimate boss, Vorlag showed no hint of intimidation. Instead, he seemed delighted, flashing that maniacal smile. Silas couldn’t fathom Vorlag’s demeanor. Did all high-ranked awakened become like this? Or did only mad individuals ascend to such heights? The Ash-Drake flapped its wings, soaring into the sky. It flew toward Vorlag with terrifying speed. Even before the Drake arrived, a sharp wind, scorching and dust-laden, swept through the air. Bending his knees slightly, Vorlag spoke, not to the Drake, but to the air around him. “Survive, boy. If you can.” In that moment, Vorlag propelled himself off the ground. It was surprising enough for a person to fly, but a sonic boom ripped through the air. Vorlag broke through the sound barrier, instantly appearing in front of the Ash-Drake. The collision between the colossal monster and the diminutive human reverberated. The aftermath shook the Cinder-maw to its core. The previously serene lava surged like a tidal wave, spewing in all directions. The volcano belched more intense black smoke. The corpses of the monsters Vorlag had slain melted into the lava. Their protective aura, once shielding them from the volcano’s heat, vanished upon death. Lava surged toward Silas. He hastily maneuvered to evade the molten rock, but it followed relentlessly. Continuing on this path, he would dissolve into the lava just like the other monsters. Amidst this chaos, Vorlag and the Ash-Drake fiercely battled in the air. The problem grew when Vorlag’s deflection of the Drake’s scorching breath landed dangerously close to Silas. Accompanied by a deafening roar, lava splashed, and Silas had to bear the brunt of it. Silas darted around frantically, resembling a madman. With the lava’s unpredictable surges and the urgency of the situation, he couldn’t even begin to think about how to use his adapted ash abilities. To survive, he needed to distance himself from the area where Vorlag and the Ash-Drake fought. He leaped across the lava, running across black volcanic rocks. Suddenly, the rock he stepped on crumbled, revealing molten lava underneath. If he fell, it would be the end. Instinctively, Silas commanded the surrounding ash. Just as he had evaded the initial onslaught of the Magma-Dredge, he created a solid ash platform beneath his feet. He continued to create these ash platforms, leaping from one to the next, his strength draining with each desperate surge of effort. Mana depleted rapidly. Nevertheless, he managed to land on solid volcanic rock just before his reserves ran out entirely. Kneeling on the searing volcanic rock, Silas gasped for breath. His heart felt like it might burst, a metallic taste rising in his lungs. It was the aftermath of expanding everything in a single, desperate moment. The entire Cinder-maw shook violently. Looking toward the origin, Silas saw that Vorlag and the Ash-Drake’s fight was reaching its peak. Amidst Vorlag’s manic exclamation, an enormous force gathered within Ember-Heart. In Silas’s eyes, Ember-Heart seemed to double in size for a moment, glowing with an internal fire. Vorlag hurled Ember-Heart toward the Crimson Drake. It flew like a meteor, piercing straight through the Ash-Drake’s chest. The Ash-Drake let out a pitiful scream as it plummeted. The colossal monster, over thirty meters long, crashed onto the lava terrain below. Devoid of strength, its body sprawled across the ground. Vorlag descended upon the motionless Drake. Though the Ash-Drake still gasped, its breaths labored, as it looked up at Vorlag. Glancing down at the Ash-Drake, Vorlag spoke. “I scoured the Ash-Wastes for a year to catch you. To imbue Ember-Heart with your heart… so, die gracefully.” Vorlag lifted Ember-Heart high into the air and plunged it into the Ash-Drake’s heart. The pain from Ember-Heart piercing its core caused the Ash-Drake to convulse. However, its last struggles were feeble, fading into silence. Ember-Heart, embedded in the Ash-Drake’s heart, glowed red, filled with an enormous amount of fiery mana, typical of a final guardian of a Cinder-maw. Ember-Heart absorbed the fiery mana, heating up intensely, almost as if it might melt away. At the peak of the heat, Ember-Heart suddenly underwent a transformation. Vorlag expressed satisfaction. Ember-Heart, now reassembled, grew larger and took on a sharper, more defined form. The Cinder-maw’s origin was its final guardian. Without its core, the Cinder-maw could not maintain its form. It began to unravel, the very air shimmering, the ground trembling not from battle, but from dissolution. A crimson portal, shimmering with heat, appeared before the Ash-Drake’s remains. It was the exit from the Cinder-maw. Just before stepping into the portal, Vorlag turned to look at Silas. “Aren’t you leaving? You fool!” ---

Cinder-maw's Maw