Geveno stumbled back, breath ragged, blood hissing against his molten skin. But he didn't fall.
Instead, he reached to his side—gripping a glass vial ringed with runes.
Snap.
The potion flared as he drank, fire leaping from his mouth like a dragon exhaling its first breath.
His wounds closed.
His strength returned.
But more than that—something ancient awakened.
Forge of the ancestors – Emberward Armor: Summoned
The ground around him cracked as fire bled from his pores, snaking around his limbs and rising like a living forge. Flames condensed, shaping into layered pauldrons, a burning cuirass, gauntlets with spiraled vents, and a helm that screamed like a furnace being born.
This was no ordinary armor—it was forged through the Ancestors' Forge bloodline, a living testament to human ingenuity and the unbreakable spirit of creation.
Geveno's voice echoed from within the helm, deep and distorted.
"You wanted to see what I really fight like?"
The air rippled.
Heat bent the light.
System Notice: Mythic Armor Engaged – Combat Tier Increased
Geveno's weapons vanished. He no longer needed them.
The armor was his weapon.
He dashed forward—not with elegance, but with absolute momentum.
BOOM.
Markus raised his blades—and was flung backward like a ragdoll, skidding across the scorched earth. His Phasebreak Form absorbed most of it, but it was clear: this was a new game.
Geveno marched, each step leaving fiery footprints that slowly erupted into ember mines behind him.
Markus rose, coughed blood.
"I don't need to beat your armor. I just need to outlast your soul."
Geveno didn't answer. He raised his gauntlet and punched the air.
Air Detonation – Coreburst Knuckle.
The sheer force of the shockwave launched Markus again—until Finn intercepted mid-air, teleporting to catch him before he could slam into a stone outcrop.
He understood now.
Every time Markus moved, he moved too—his body flowing in tandem, like a shadow mimicking a master. It wasn't conscious imitation; it was instinct born from Geneva's soul skill. He could feel Markus' rhythm, predict his slashes, and learn his style in real time. And yet, he never fully closed the distance—he kept back, watching, calculating, absorbing.
Meanwhile, Jacob and Connor clashed with Geneva, but their techniques were falling apart under her relentless counters. Her movements were sharp, her timing perfect, and her blows began to land, driving the brothers back.
Then—a flash of silver.
An axe spun through the air, burying itself in the ground between them. Jacob and Connor's eyes lit up with hope.
Rowan had arrived.
He appeared in a flicker of soul light, teleporting mid-strike, trying to catch Geneva off guard. She blocked him with precision, her calm unshaken. But the moment her focus shifted, Jacob and Connor activated their Eternal Flamer Soul Link, charging in with burning fury.
The three coordinated in perfect synchrony—Rowan kept teleporting, throwing axes like comets, each one allowing him to blink to a new mark. Everywhere he moved, he left behind invisible soul beacons. With every shift, his rhythm intensified.
Together, they began to push Geneva back. Blow after blow rained down, the battlefield a blur of flashing steel and soul-charged fire. But then, something changed.
Geneva adapted.
It was as if she downloaded their entire strategy. She began weaving through their strikes—evading Connor's blade, slipping past Jacob's flames, predicting Rowan's teleport paths. Despite being outnumbered, she pressed forward, her movements growing sharper, more ruthless.
Then she smiled.
With a savage flurry, Geneva unleashed a series of precision strikes, battering Jacob and Connor into retreat. Rowan blinked behind her, axe raised—but she dodged at the last instant, catching him with a brutal kick that sent him tumbling.
And then, she transformed.
Flames erupted around her as soul essence ignited, molding into divine form. Her body became encased in molten elegance—the same type of armor her brother wore, yet hers was darker, sharper, wreathed in living fire.
She wore the Emberward Soulplate.
Each step scorched the ground, leaving burning footprints in her wake. The flames along her armor danced like spirits, her presence now radiant and terrifying.
Then she charged.
Name: Fire Keeper Bloodline Activated – Emberward Soulplate
The Emberward Soulplate is no ordinary armor—it is living proof of human ingenuity, born from the union of ancestral strength and evolving will. Awakened by the Fire Keeper bloodline, it channels a single inherited gift from another lineage, forging it into something greater. It burns not with magic, but with the fire of resolve—each flame a tribute to those who came before you, and a step toward the legacy still unfolding.
It wraps its wearer in molten elegance, with deep red-gold veins pulsing like flowing lava beneath blackened, heat-tempered plating.
Every contour of the armor flickers with ethereal fire. Its edges constantly evaporate into embers before reforming in seamless cycles of flame and form.
⸻
The chestplate resembles the core of a burning furnace.
Molten cracks run across its surface, glowing with a soul-deep light.
Golden seams line the edges, glowing white-hot.
⸻
The pauldrons are wing-like and jagged.
They hiss and flare with every movement, distorting the air with shimmering heatwaves.
⸻
The gauntlets are crafted from steel.
Vents along the forearms release bursts of flame with each strike.
Every blow lands with explosive pressure, trailing heat like afterburners.
⸻
The leg armor features interlocking plates shaped like flame-wrapped muscles.
Golden trims glow more brightly the faster the wearer moves.
Each step leaves behind emberprints that smolder long after impact.
⸻
The optional helm crowns the warrior with a phoenix-like crest of rising flame.
It veils the face in flickering firelight, and the eyes glow like twin suns—burning with the fury of soulflame.
The battlefield was alive with heat and soulfire.
Jacob and Connor moved like mirrored storms, their blades wreathed in flame and precision as they pressed in. Eternal Flamer Soul Link bound them in perfect combat harmony—when one struck high, the other struck low; when one lunged, the other covered. And Rowan was everywhere—axes flew, teleport flashes burst, and the battlefield warped with his Soul Drift.
But Geneva was calm at the center of chaos—a living flame given form.
As Jacob launched a sweeping arc of soulflame, she didn't retreat. She advanced.
FLARE PULSE.
Her chestplate cracked open with molten light, and a shockwave of flame erupted outward. The ground split and fire burst in a radius around her—Jacob and Connor were thrown back, their armor scorched and their balance shattered. Rowan, mid-teleport, rematerialized into the heatwave and was flung back into a crater, coughing ash.
She surged forward with a Pyro Drift, vanishing in a streak of heat. The air screamed with her velocity, the trail behind her glowing white-hot. Connor tried to catch her with a mid-air soul slash—miss. Jacob leapt forward to intercept—too late.
She slid through them, her body leaving a blazing wall of fire between them. The flames lingered, burning like a curtain between her and the world, isolating each of them in separate zones.
Jacob's soulflame flickered, and he reignited his sword for a high sweep. Connor followed, summoning fire to his fists to crash down on Geneva in tandem. But this time, her armor drank it in.
Soul Resurgence.
The flames struck her armor—and vanished.
The molten lines across her suit pulsed brighter, stronger. The damage she had taken faded in the light, and her stance grew firmer. She met Connor's strike with a rising elbow, sending him reeling, then spun into a low kick that swept Jacob's legs from beneath him.
Rowan, blinking behind her, appeared with two axes raised to sever her from behind.
Without turning, she slid just inches to the side—another Pyro Drift—and he missed entirely. As he landed, she drove a flaming knee into his chest, sending him skidding through his own teleport mark trail, breaking several of them.
Breathing heavy, the trio regrouped, battered and scorched.
Geneva stepped through her flame-wreathed battlefield, her Emberward Soulplate glowing brighter with every moment.
She smiled again.
"Three of you, and you still burn out faster than me."