Chapter 218 Arsonist

"What the hell is happening?"

My heart has turned black. It has a rock-like structure—I won't even hesitate to call it a heart-shaped burning rock. It is still beating like a normal heart but I can't say for sure if it is still pumping blood. My chest is burning but it is strangely comforting; each time my veins pulse, I get even more vigorous than before.

When I take my attention away from my bizarre heart, I realize that my whole body is decorated with shining veins. I look just like Rocky did, minus the rock-like skin and, maybe, the shining eyes.

"What do you find yourself?" a voice asks out of nowhere.

Calmly, I reply, "Metamorphosed."

"Metamorphosed…an interesting answer. I wonder if you find your metamorphosed form beautiful."

Instead of answering immediately, I turn my attention away from my body to whatever is speaking before me. I find Ignio flying before me, still in his true form, albeit three times bigger. He is looking at me in curiosity. Gone is the look of despise on his face already. He looks way calmer and wiser; very different from the visage that I just saw a few moments ago.

"You know…I found myself disgusting when it happened to me. When I was metamorphosing, I didn't know what was happening. I only knew what happened after the metamorphosis and that made me very upset. Ah…I shouldn't have done that—I lamented relentlessly."

Ignio, after his monologue, turns to me and then smiles. "Tell me, Layland Kleinhaus. What do you think of your metamorphosis?"

It is at this question that I realized I misunderstood the question. I thought Ignio was asking whether I liked my fiery heart or hated it but it is not the case. He is asking about something else. My metamorphosis—my new life as a Demon.

Am I reading too deep into the question? I guess not. He knows my name; he must know something about me. He must know what I was before being a Demon and, therefore, he asked that question to me. He thinks he has just found a kindred spirit.

"I think it is the best thing that has ever happened to me and the best choice I have ever made."

"Why do you think so, Layland? Aren't you sad for what you had to sacrifice to metamorphose?"

"When something undergoes a metamorphosis, it believes that its current state is no longer satisfactory. Caterpillars turn into butterflies because they want to fly. They have to sacrifice their easy life and roam the world looking for flowers after the metamorphosis; however, they have something more precious than their easy life—freedom."

"Don't they also have freedom while still being a caterpillar?" Ignio asks in puzzlement.

"They do but…said freedom is bound to a single tree or even a single sprig. They can roam either of the two freely; however, they have limitations. They can't easily move to another tree or sprig. Butterflies don't have that worry because they can roam the world freely. They get to choose their flowers—they decide their fate, not take whatever the world gives them."

"Letting loose your desire and impulse—is that what you want to tell me, Layland?"

"It is up to you how you comprehend it. I just want you to know that I am quite happy with what I have become."

Ignio looks at me silently with a contemplative look. When he finished his contemplation, he immediately turns around and then swipes the air like it is a gigantic touch screen.

"I guess, I just can't say that what happened to me is metamorphosis. You are right, Layland—metamorphosis is a beautiful change, not a hideous degradation."

The scene in our surroundings changes from the battlefield to a vast, luscious plain. Walking toward us is Spartus with glowing vermillion veins decorating his body and a fiery heart beating outside his chest. His eyes shine like lava; his complexion is stoic but grim.

Boom! Boom!

The ground shakes every time he makes a step. He leaves footprints and they are burning the grass on the ground. Not long after, Spartus stops before us. He looks at us silently for a few seconds before roaring madly and thrashing around.

"My metamorphosis…no, my degradation required me to sacrifice a lot of things: my friend, life, and sanity. Look at what I have become, Layland. A power I did wish to crush my enemy but everything still ended grimly…. I regretted what I had chosen and it fueled my hatred toward the world."

Ignio stops looking at Spartus and turns to me. "You see, Layland. I sense the same darkness I had deep in your heart. Letting it loose free may give you relief; however, giving into it will be the biggest mistake you will ever make. If you want to get angry, don't go on a rampage."

? After the long talk, Ignio just wants to tell me that. I believe he was just eager to talk to someone after hundreds of years of being alone—just like what Luxia did—which is why he dragged the talk long before saying those words.

"You are a danger to this world, you know?" Ignio asks, surprising me as he approaches me. "This heart shall give you passion and power. It will help you immensely, so I beg you to not let your other heart control you," he adds, hand on my fiery heart.

"My other heart?"

"Yes…your dark, cold, and chaotic heart. Shall you lose yourself; the world shall meet its doom too."

'Cool,' I think. Don't get me wrong; the idea of losing myself is repulsive but the fact that Ignio is sure that I will be strong enough to destroy the world is assuring. Power is everything in this world. Being strong alone isn't enough, which is why I aspire to be absolute.

"What a very unique person. You have accepted yourself so well that you are not even afraid of your power," Ignio remarks, face filled with wonder.

"When you can't even control your power, will you even call it a power? No, it is a curse—that's why you fear it," I retort.

"Fair point."

When Ignio retracts his hand, the scene changes again; this time, we are surrounded by fire and can't see anything but it. I am also no longer standing straightly. My body is leaning to the front, meanwhile, my feet are slightly bent. My hand is holding Rexorem's hilt and, on top of it, Ignio I standing.

"Layland Kleinhaus. I have made your soul go through purgatory and you persevered. For that, you are rewarded with a tempered soul. I have also tried to shake your heart by showing you what happened to me yet it prevailed. You have passed my test. You have something that I didn't have and that is the power to handle my power."

Flying at me, Ignio's finger passes through my mask, touching my forehead. "For that, I will reward you with my heart and a tempered physique. Never lose yourself, Layland Kleinhaus. Do what you deem fit, not what your impulse tells you."

Blinding red light fills my vision. My body is burning inside; I feel like I am going to explode. Painful as it is, no sound comes out of my mouth. There is a faint comfort among the pain and my attention is focused on that. I wonder if I am a masochist but I quickly dismiss it because I know I am not.

When the light disappears, the burning feeling also disappears. I right myself up, let go of Rexorem's hilt, and then take a look at my body. My clothes are half burned, so they are in the process of fixing themselves. From them, I realize that my body has also gotten bigger; they are readjusting the size.

My muscles have become more packed and prominent. Previously, despite the muscles decorating my body, due to my height, they were not packed enough to make me look tough. I looked lanky before but, now, I look muscular but not overly. I guess, from now on, those bastards will stop depicting me as a scrawny hideous Monster.

Appearance, of course, is not the best boon that I got from Ignio. The amount of Mana I have is thrice the amount I had before and my physical power is so insane that I can punch a hole through Heroes of Mike's caliber without Mana.

My affinity toward fire has also increased and I can't wait to incorporate Fire Magic into each one of my Skills. It should make them more explosive.

'Layland, are you okay!?'

'Master! Did that insolent Corrupted Spirit do something to you!?'

When I stop admiring the good changes I have undergone, I listen to the calls of my Spirit Companions that I have been tuning out. They are extremely worried about me; by their tone, I can tell that they couldn't do anything while I was undergoing the test from Ignio.

"I am okay. Now, stop screaming," I say, calmer than I have ever been.

"…what happened to you, Layland?" Luxia asks, bemused. "Why do you sound…alive?"

"What does that even mean?"

"No…I mean, you were the type to keep everything to yourself. You hid your feelings, so you didn't feel alive before. Now, although I still can't read you, you sound more like a living person."

Indeed, I do also feel that way. Before, when I had just become a Demon, I lost my emotion—no, I forgot how to express it. I have been acting like how I think a person with emotion acts and it has never been right; people still think I hide everything from them.

I have been using my logic and conscience to dictate my action. I mourn when I deem I should, even though I don't feel sad. Ignio's heart is full of emotion. I still can't express emotion well but, thanks to it, I get to remember how it feels to have it.