The moment the blaze of blood-red flames swallowed him, Mithras entered a trance. The scenery changed the moment next, and he now stood in a cave of ruby-colored stones, with a diverse array of chipped weapons encrusted in the walls.
In the distance, a large stone entrance engraved with ancient runes stood. Pieces of broken puppets crowding the steps as the thick scent of burning coal and molten lava poured out nonstop.
Intrigued by the odd setting, Mithras walked through the entrance, making his way into an arcane forge where clouds of steam and sparks billowed upwards. A tall and built man stood by the forge, dressed in the blood and gold of the House of Uriah.
"Your Majesty?" Mithras asked in a puzzled tone. This man looked like a replica of the late king Gaiseric, albeit much younger. But how could that be? And where the hell was he?
'Or could it be...Hell? Did I finally die for good? That'd suck so bad!'
"Mithras, you're finally here. Don't overthink it. Whenever a new king inherits the throne, the hammer collects a wisp of their soul, storing it so they can later assist in appointing the successor. This is the main reason why women have never been able to inherit the hammer.
There hasn't been a single Blood-Smelting King willing to let the throne fall into a woman's hands," sensing that Mithras' thoughts were going wild, Gaiseric explained, turning from the forge to face the dragon youth.
"I feel like that sounded a lot more sexist than it was ever meant to be," Mithras rolled his eyes, walking towards the fallen king with a pensive look.
"Does it matter?"
"Not to me...at least. But you never know who you'll piss off." The Human Aphrodisiac ended the exchange with a shrug, then scanned the area with the Sensory Secret. Or at least he tried to. But at each attempt, the Sensory Secret failed to extend beyond Gaiseric, barely covering a couple square meters.
"Don't bother. This place is an Anarchic Territory. You'd need to be a Dark Preceptor to use your Divine Secrets at will here. It's already impressive you've managed to activate them.
"What are you gonna do? Meet me after school? You're dead bro, I don't give a fuck. I could smack your alive version with one bat swing so how the hell do you expect me to be afraid of your motherfucking ghost?
Won't happen! Can't happen! Your mom is hot, bro! And she's not a hussy, meaning I don't have to make her pay for my D. Do you know how excited that makes me feel? Of course, I will protect that ass!" With tears of joy in his eyes, Mithras snapped, breaking the fallen king's momentum with a burst of righteous indignation.
"...at least you're devoted to the job. Moving on. I don't want to prop up the enemy, but the Grand Priestess is right about one thing: time didn't work in my mother's favor. Akamana is the embodiment of the warrior path: a true Iron Maiden.
Each day she fights, each day she kills. There hasn't been a day in the last five hundred years where Akamana hasn't fought and killed at least one man—so much so that she must turn battle into a game to not fall into depression and bore herself to death.
My mother, on the other hand, has been trapped in the royal palace for the last five hundred years—disconnected from her true powers. To say nothing of making progress, it would already be a miracle if she could match her past peak. So how could she possibly defeat someone who was not much weaker five hundred years ago...but has gotten exponentially more powerful since then?
It's hard to believe. So, my last act in this world will be to help you inherit the Blood Crown...if you're willing to, that is.
The House of Uriah has fallen. But if you accept our mantle...you will one day have the chance to awaken humanity's strongest ability—becoming a Perfect Being." Gaiseric made his case, but sensing something wrong with the words, Mithras frowned.
"Our?"
"Of course. I'm just the representative of the group. But my predecessors have all approved of my choice, enabling you to take ownership of the hammer and smelt your human half in the forge.
Half breeds in general only possess a Gene or a Mutation—never both. But with our lineage's Blood Smelting Art and your exceptional constitution, it shouldn't be that difficult.
So Mithras, will you receive the Blood Crown and inherit the mantle of the King of Kings?" Gaiseric asked in a solemn tone, and the moment next, the blurry figures of his predecessors appeared, all lining up in the cave.