The Hero's Puppet Master

Chapter 3: Blue Flame



Little Leo trembled in fear. The monster in front of him was enormous, almost the size of a bear, with claws as sharp as knives. In the dim light, it looked even scarier. Most of the other kids had run away, but not Leo. His legs wouldn't move.


Just before it could reach him, Ronan darted in and scooped Leo into his arms. He rolled to the side just in time, barely dodging the attack.

The claws tore into the ground, sending dirt flying where Leo had been standing.

Ronan set the boy down behind him and focused intently on the looming figure before him. He kept his voice even yet firm. "Leo. Run. Now."

"But what about you?" stammered Leo, as he held onto Ronan's arm. His words quavered with fear.

"GO!" Ronan shouted, giving no margin for disagreement. "I'll be back, all right?

Leo hesitated, then nodded slowly. With one last look, he turned and ran, his small legs carrying him as fast as they could.

The monster tilted its head, tracking Leo as he fled. Its claws dug into the earth, muscles tensing for another charge.

"Not so fast," Ronan growled. He grabbed a nearby rock and hurled it at the creature.

The rock struck the monster on its side, and it snarled, whipping its head around toward Ronan. Glowing red eyes burned with fury.

"Ah yeah, that's right," Ronan snapped. "Your fight is with me now. And guess what? I don't share." He smirked faintly, finishing, "For now, at least, you're my 'fighting partner.'

The beast roared and charged again. Ronan turned on his heel and sprinted into the forest, his heart pounding. 

Each of the monster's heavy steps shook the ground behind him, but he kept ahead, weaving between the trees.

His eyes caught sight of a rusted pickaxe leaning against a fallen log. Without stopping, he dove, grabbing it in one hand before pushing forward again.

The beast tore through the forest after him, smashing trees and sending wood splinters flying. A claw swung close, slicing through the air just inches from his back. Ronan ducked and rolled, coming up with the pickaxe gripped tightly in his hands.

"Great," he muttered, sweat dripping down his face. "This thing wasn't showing up in any timeline. What brought it here?"

Spotting a dense thicket ahead, he threw himself into the shadows and took a low crouch position. 

The beast slowed and sniffed the air, then growled in frustration at not being able to pick up anything.

He gripped the pickaxe tightly, his mind churning.

If I had my powers, this thing would already be ashes. But now? In this weak body? I can't even use proper fighting techniques.

Suddenly, the thicket burst apart as the creature's claws ripped through the tree overhead. He rolled just enough to miss, stumbling up to his feet as the creature charged again.

The pickaxe scraped across the beast's tough hide but left almost no impression. He clenched his teeth, sidestepping another swipe that tore the ground open like a plow.

"Of course," he spat, gripping the handle tighter. He swung again with all his strength.

This time, as the pickaxe hit, a faint flicker of fire appeared on the blade. It was brief—barely there—but enough to make him freeze in shock.

"What the—" he muttered. Am I awakening now?

The beast roared in fury, and it charged at him once more. He ducked under its claws, feeling the rush of air as they narrowly missed him. His body seemed to move on instinct, and he swung the pickaxe once again, putting all he had into it.

This time, the fire burned brighter. A streak of orange flame lit the blade as it struck the beast's shoulder. The impact threw the creature back, and smoke rose from the burn.

"Not awakening," he murmured to himself. "Looks like my powers are back."

But the flames flickered out as quickly as they came. He looked down at his shaking hands, exhaustion weighing on him.

"This body," he croaked, his chest rising and falling. "It can't even handle basic fire magic for more than a few seconds."

The monster recovered quickly, its burning eyes locked on him once more. It charged, this time moving faster, claws carving deep grooves into the ground. 

I could finish this with an Aura Release… but this body wouldn't survive it.

Then an idea sparked—a desperate, reckless one.

He dug his feet into the ground, gripping the pickaxe with both hands. He forced his breathing to slow, tuning out everything around him.

The beast roared, lowering its massive head as it charged. The ground shook beneath its weight.

"Partial Aura," Ronan whispered.

A surge of energy shot through him. Blue flames burst from the pickaxe, swirling like living fire around the blade. The air shimmered with heat, and the ground beneath him scorched.

The beast charged at him, its massive body covering everything behind it. Ronan held his ground until the last possible moment. And then, with a bellow, he swung the pickaxe in a wide arc.

A blast of blue flame shot from the blade like a wave and hit the monster. The flames engulfed its neck and cut cleanly through.

The creature shrieked an ear-piercing scream, and its head and body were separated in that shriek.

It struck the ground with tremendous weight; its head rolled along and finally came to a stop, smoldering on the ground.

Ronan stood, dazed, his body shuddering from the strain as his nose started to bleed due to the sharp pain inflicted. The pickaxe slipped out from his grasp.

"Next time," he growled, his voice raw but steady, "I'll burn you down to nothing but ash."

His legs gave out, and he crumpled to the ground, staring up at the smoky sky.

"Still alive," he muttered with a weak chuckle. His eyelids grew heavy, and as the world faded, darkness claimed him.


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