novelraw Chapter 228: Dark Phoenix
Chapter 228: Dark Phoenix
For the next few days, Sharky stayed in the Flame Beasts Tribe.
He learned about their connection with the beasts, and sat around the fire each evening—sharing stories of his own journey. But most of all, he spent time with Jean.
Their bond grew stronger.
Whether it was walking through the glowing fire gardens at night, or laughing beside the younger ones of the tribe, or simply sitting together on a stone ledge watching the flame-lit skies, they became close.
Jean would often rest her head on his shoulder.
One morning, as fire birds soared through the clouds above, Sharky packed his gear and met Jean by the village gate once again.
"You’re leaving?" she asked, not surprised—but a little sad.
"Just for a while," he said. "There’s still so much of Savroth I want to see. But I promise, I’ll return."
She nodded, looking into his eyes. "I’ll be waiting."
He smiled, kissed her gently on the forehead, and turned to leave—with Rosie and Sophia.
---
Far away, deep within the blackened canyons of Savroth, smoke curled from the great bone torches of the Sekharii Tribe.
Inside their sacred chamber, the council of elders had gathered.
There were seven men and women cloaked in dark red hides, faces painted with ash, sitting around a circular pit of controlled flame. Over them loomed the massive stone idol of Sekhara, their lion-headed god, eyes glowing dimly in the shadows.
The atmosphere was tense.
"She still lives," one elder said bitterly, grinding his staff against the floor. "Even after all our attempts, the flame girl still breathes."
"We cannot attack them directly," muttered another. "The Flame Beasts Tribe is too strong."
A third added, "If we try again and fail, we lose more of our warriors. That would be the end of our strength."
There was silence for a while.
Then the one seated at the highest seat—High Flamekeeper Zaruun—rose slowly.
His face was hidden behind a cracked golden mask, and the staff in his hand glowed with quiet fire.
"You are right," he said at last. "We cannot win against the Flame Beasts Tribe alone."
The elders looked at him with uncertainty.
Zaruun’s voice grew heavier.
"But we are not alone anymore."
He tapped his staff on the ground, and the flames in the chamber changed color—shifting from bright orange to a deep, eerie blue.
From a side room, shadows moved.
Figures dressed in black cloaks stepped into the firelight. They were tall, quiet, and their skin was marked with strange symbols. Around their necks hung silver pendants shaped like jackal heads.
They were the Anubari Tribe—followers of the god Anubir, the god of death and judgment.
Like the Shekarii, they hated the human tribes who treated beasts as equals. To them, that belief was a great insult to their gods.
They had tried before to destroy the Ice Tribe—who believed in living side by side with beasts—but even they had failed.
Now, both the Shekarii and the Anubari stood together... because they had learned something that made them worried.
A powerful girl had been born in the Flame Beast Tribe.
They didn’t know what her power truly was—but they didn’t care. To them, she was a threat. One that must be erased, before she became too strong to stop.
The leader of the Anubari stepped forward, his golden eyes glowing under his dark hood.
"The girl has become too dangerous," he said in a quiet but firm voice. "We must destroy her before she grows stronger. Before the balance breaks."
"That’s why we are here," he added.
"Yes, yes, you’re right," said Zarunn, the Shekarii leader, his tone full of respect, even fear. He bowed slightly, like a servant before a master.
The Anubari were stronger—and Zarunn knew it.
"Then it’s settled," the Anubari leader said with a dark smile. "Let’s wipe out the Flame Beast Tribe. Let their fire become ashes."
The two tribes leaned closer, whispering and drawing marks in the dirt. They began to plan carefully—
Tonight, while the Flame Beast Tribe slept peacefully under the stars...
They would strike.
---
That night, in the Flame Beast Tribe, everything seemed peaceful.
After dinner, the villagers had gone to sleep in their huts.
Children curled up next to their flame pets, wrapped in soft mats made of fire-resistant leaves. Warriors rested with their blades nearby, thinking it was just another quiet night under the stars.
A few guards stood near the village gates, keeping watch.
Some Flame Beasts—like Fire Foxes and Flame Deer—wandered around the village, alert as always.
But then, one of the Flame Deer suddenly collapsed.
"What happened to it?" one guard asked, stepping closer.
"Maybe it’s just tired," the other replied.
But before they could say anything else, more of the Flame Beasts started collapsing—one by one—dropping where they stood.
The guards grew alarmed. One of them rushed toward the bell to raise an alarm for the whole tribe.
But before he could reach it, a figure stepped out from the shadows—
Zaruun.
"You... You’re from the Shekarii Tribe!" the guard shouted, flames already gathering in his hands.
"What are you doing here?!"
Zaruun smiled coldly. "It’s bedtime, little ember."
Before the guard could react, Zaruun moved fast—striking him with a burst of fire laced with dark energy.
The guard fell instantly.
Within moments, all the guards were dead.
And throughout the village, all the Flame Beasts had fallen asleep, their bodies limp, their flames dimming.
From every direction—north, south, east, and west—the Shekarii and Anubari warriors crept forward like shadows in the jungle.
The Shekarii painted their faces with ash and blood, whispering prayers to their fire god, Sekhara. Their weapons were dipped in venom, their hearts full of rage.
The Anubari moved silently, their golden jackal masks glowing faintly in the dark. Each carried black satchels filled with a strange red-glowing dust.
Ashdream Powder.
A forbidden substance—designed to weaken and put flame-based creatures into a deep sleep. It didn’t harm them... but it left them helpless, like lambs surrounded by wolves.
Their leader raised a hand.
In perfect silence, the Anubari warriors threw the powder into the tribe’s sacred flame—the heart of the village.
As the powder touched the fire, it didn’t explode.
Instead... the flame sank, swallowed by a strange red mist. It twisted unnaturally, let out a strange whimpering sound—
And then, a thick red gas began to spread across the village.
Within seconds, the sleeping Flame Beasts fell deeper into unconsciousness.
A Fire Eagle dropped from its perch without a sound.
A Fire Tiger growled weakly... then fell still.
The entire village was now defenseless.
"Move in," the Anubari leader ordered.
The Sekharii charged, flaming torches in hand. Some carried nets made of fireproof chain. Others brought bone spears tipped with flame-quenching venom.
"Find the girl!" the general barked. "Bind her before she awakens fully!"
—
At that moment, Jean was sleeping peacefully beside her mother.
But suddenly, a sharp pain struck her chest. Her heart felt heavy. Her breathing quickened.
She saw flashes of fire and destruction in her dream—shadows of something dark. Her eyes flew open.
She sat up, gasping. "Just a dream?" she whispered.
She tried to lie back down, but her heart kept pounding.
Something felt wrong. Deeply wrong.
Jean got up and quietly stepped outside. The air was too quiet.
She looked around... and her eyes widened.
All the Flame Beasts were lying unconscious. The sacred fire was almost out. Smoke swirled low to the ground.
"What happened?" she whispered, stunned.
Then—she heard footsteps.
From the edge of the village, she saw them—
Sekharii warriors, faces covered in ash and blood.
And beside them, others wearing golden jackal masks—Anubari warriors.
Jean’s eyes filled with fire.
"You... you’re trying to kill us," she said, her voice shaking with fury.
Zaruun stepped forward, fire burning in his palms. "So what if we are?" he snarled. "You blasphemers must be wiped out from Aetherion!"
He raised his hand, ready to strike.
But then—something happened.
All the attackers froze.
Their eyes went wide. Their limbs stopped moving. Weapons dropped from their hands.
And then—they started floating.
One by one, the Sekharii and Anubari warriors rose into the air like puppets being pulled by invisible strings.
"What... what is this?" one gasped. "Why can’t I move?! I can’t even move a finger!"
"This... this is a god’s power..." Zaruun stammered, terrified.
Their eyes turned—and saw.
Jean floated above the village, glowing brighter than the moon itself. Her red wrap fluttered like it was caught in a storm, even though there was no wind.
Her golden eyes had turned fiery white.
The air around her began to twist—heat waves bending the trees, cracks forming in the ground, and sparks dancing like angry spirits.
Sekharii and Anubari soldiers froze in place. Their bodies were no longer theirs.
"Wh-what is this?!" one shouted, his sword dropping from his fingers.
"This is not magic... this is something else!" screamed another.
And then—the screaming began.
Without Jean moving a muscle, the first wave of enemies exploded into dust, their bodies breaking apart mid-air. One man tried to run, but his legs buckled—and he vanished in a flash of white fire, leaving nothing behind.
Jean’s hands slowly raised, as if pulled by invisible strings.
A group of Anubari warriors charged forward with bone spears—only to be lifted by invisible force, twisted mid-air, and then ripped into ash, scattered by a wind no one could see.
One by one, entire groups vanished, as if the world had erased them like sand off stone.
Some were burned, others were shredded apart like cloth, pulled by unseen forces. Others simply disappeared, their bodies turning to red light and then... gone.
Only the leaders of Sekharii and Anubari were able to escape.
The sacred flame in the middle of the village exploded skyward from Jean’s uncontrolled energy, reaching the height of trees and bursting into floating embers.
The village shook.
Huts were blasted apart. Roofs flew. A wall collapsed, and even some of the sleeping flame beasts—those too close to the center—were caught in the wave and torn to pieces, vanishing in a wave of golden energy.
And soon all of the villagers were awoken by seeing the glow of Jean, and the houses broken.
Children screamed. Mothers grabbed them and ran. Warriors stumbled to their feet, confused and terrified from Jean.
"Jean! Jean!"
A voice pierced the madness.
Jean turned slowly.
Her mother—scared, eyes wide, standing near a fallen hut.
"Jean, what happened, my dear?" she asked softly, her voice shaking.
Jean’s breath hitched. Her glowing hands trembled, energy crackling around her like a silent storm.
"I... I didn’t mean to... Mom—don’t come near me! Please, don’t come near!" she cried out, stepping back in fear. "I can’t control it!"
But her mother didn’t stop.
Her eyes were full of love, not fear. "Jean... my sweet girl. It’s okay. You’re not alone..."
She walked forward slowly, ignoring the heat, ignoring the sparks dancing in the air.
Jean shook her head, panicked. "No—Mom, please! I’ll hurt you—!"
But her mother was already there.
And then... she wrapped her arms around Jean in a gentle hug.
For a second, time stopped.
Jean’s hands clenched. Her body shook. Her eyes widened.
And then—
Light exploded.
Her mother’s body lifted into the air—just inches off the ground—and then began to shimmer, her form cracking with golden energy.
"Mom... no... no, no—!" Jean screamed.
But it was too late.
With a sudden surge of power, her mother’s body shattered into glowing dust—vanishing in Jean’s arms like a spark caught in the wind.
There was nothing left.
Only the ashes, falling slowly to the ground.
Jean collapsed.
Her knees hit the dirt. Her glowing wings faded. Her fire dimmed.
Tears streamed down her face as she stared at the empty space where her mother had been.
The village was silent now.
Everyone had seen it.
And no one dared take a single step toward her.