Somewhere in the modern world called Earth, in a school far too ordinary for what was about to unfold, a college lecture dragged on. Students sat half-asleep or half-interested. But not Damien Cross.
No, Damien Cross was neither asleep nor paying attention. He was sitting at his desk, feet propped up, a bag of chips in hand. He crunched loudly, his red-gold eyes gleaming with mischief. His fiery red hair practically dared the universe to mess with him. The professor's voice droned on about economic models or historical trends—whatever it was, Damien couldn't care less.
He sat slouched in his seat like he owned the room, feet kicked up on the next desk, tearing into a fresh bag of his favorite snacks with the enthusiasm of a man who had been starving for days. The rustle of foil was loud, obnoxiously so, but Damien didn't care. He grabbed a fistful of volcano chili crisps and tossed them into his mouth like confetti.
"Sweet lava gods, these are perfect," he murmured to himself between bites. "The crunch... the burn... the flavor punch to the face. Pure. Snack. Nirvana."
He leaned his head back, eyes closed, savoring the lingering spice like a fine wine. "If I ever find the guy who invented these, I'm hugging him. And maybe proposing."
Another bite.
"Mmhm. Yep. This is love. I don't care what anyone says."
He tilted the bag slightly, letting a few chips slide into his mouth. The cheese dust clung to his fingers like golden treasure, and he licked each one like it owed him money.
"Class? What class? All I see is heaven in a bag."
As he munched blissfully, the professor scribbled notes on the board, growing increasingly aware of the crackling, crunching, and low moans of snack ecstasy from Damien's desk.
"Mr. Cross!" the teacher barked, finally snapping.
Damien blinked up lazily, mid-chew. "Mmm? Yeah?"
"Put down the snacks and pay attention! We're discussing your final assignment!"
Damien raised an eyebrow and held up a finger. "Five minutes. I'm spiritually bonding with this bag of chili cheese heaven."
"You are being disrespectful! This class is important for your future—"
"My future's spicy and delicious," Damien quipped, licking chip dust off his fingers. "Besides, what's more important than living in the moment?"
A few students chuckled. Others rolled their eyes.
"Dude's hopeless," one whispered.
"Why is he like this every day?" another groaned.
"It's funny but annoying," said a girl in the back. "He never takes anything seriously."
The teacher's face turned a shade of crimson usually reserved for overcooked tomatoes. "Cross! If you don't start respecting this class—"
Damien crunched loudly, eyes locked with the teacher's. "You said 'start'? That implies I ever respected it to begin with."
The room burst into laughter. The teacher's fists clenched. He took a deep breath, ready to unleash hell.
But then—
BRRRIINNNGGGG!
The bell rang.
The teacher's fury deflated like a popped balloon. "Alright, class dismissed. See you tomorrow."
Students scrambled to their feet.
"Finally!" Damien exclaimed, stretching dramatically. "Freedom tastes like cheddar."
As the others talked about study groups, dates, and ramen dinners, Damien muttered joyfully, "I swear these chips are made by angels. Spicy, crunchy angels."
Students gathered their bags, chatting as they moved toward the door.
"I'm heading to the gym. You?"
"Gotta grind that new RPG tonight. No sleep."
"Ugh, I've got work. Kill me."
Damien strolled out, completely unfazed, happily munching.
He wandered through the campus and out into the city. The sunlight hit his hair, igniting it like fire. He popped another chip into his mouth, humming.
"These might be the best batch yet," he mused. "Crisp level: divine. Spice level: chaos."
He reached into the bag… and found it empty.
His eyes widened in betrayal. "Already?! No… no… we were just getting started!"
Turning on his heel, he made a beeline to his childhood corner store. The familiar jingle of the door made him grin.
"Yo, old man Kenji! You still got my volcano chili crisps?"
Behind the counter stood a stout man with thick glasses and a permanent scowl. "Damien Cross… still alive, huh?"
"Barely. Ran out of snacks. Felt my soul leave my body."
Kenji smirked. "You've been coming here since you were what—eight?"
"Seven and a half," Damien corrected proudly. "Took my first candy bar and didn't even pay."
"I remember. You came back crying the next day and handed me your allowance."
Damien grinned. "What can I say? Guilt tastes worse than sour gummies."
Kenji chuckled. "I've watched you grow up, kid. You've been stealing hearts and snacks ever since."
"Mostly snacks," Damien said. "The hearts are optional."
He scanned the shelves. "Please tell me you've still got my volcano chili crisps."
"Last few bags," Kenji said. "Kids been buying 'em like crazy."
Damien grabbed three. "Guess I'm still an influencer."
Kenji raised an eyebrow. "You ever gonna do something serious with that brain of yours?"
Damien shrugged. "Only if I can eat chips while doing it."
They laughed, exchanged a few more jabs, and Damien paid in crumpled bills. He walked out, ripping open a new bag immediately.
As he strolled past the park, he spotted kids playing catch. Laughter echoed, pure and carefree.
"Chaos goblins," he muttered fondly. "Enjoy it while it lasts."
Then he saw it—the ball bounced too far. A child dashed after it… right into the road.
A truck was speeding toward the kid.
Damien's body tensed. "No… no, no, no!"
Time slowed.
He dropped his snacks without hesitation.
"MOVE!" he screamed, sprinting.
Each step thundered in his ears. The air screamed past him. The truck loomed larger.
"Please make it… please!" he thought. "Not today. Not this kid. Not on my watch!"
He dove, arms outstretched, heart pounding.
He shoved the child away.
The last thing he saw was the blinding headlights.
Then—
Impact.
Silence.
Darkness.
A void. Endless. Silent.
Damien blinked. "What the hell…?"
He sat up. Black sky. Black floor. No edges. No direction. No sound.
He stood, trembling. "Is this... death?"
Images flashed—his laughter, the bag of chips, the truck, the kid's face.
"I died…" he whispered. "I actually… died."
His fists clenched. "Dammit! Just when I found the perfect snack!"
He screamed. "HELLO?! ANYONE?! GHOST GUY? DEATH? GODS? DEMONS?"
Silence.
He spun in circles. "You've gotta be kidding me. I save a kid and get dropped in a cosmic void? Real classy, universe!"
Then—
"Well, well. What do we have here?"
A voice. Sultry. Powerful.
Damien spun. "Who's there?! Show yourself!"
Suddenly, the ground beneath his feet began to tremble. The stillness of the void cracked like glass. He staggered, struggling to maintain balance.
"What the hell is going on now?" he muttered, looking down.
Jagged lines of crimson light split through the darkness, spreading out like spiderwebs. The floor cracked open, glowing red from within.
"That's new... and definitely not comforting," Damien muttered. "Okay, cool visual effects, but I don't remember signing up for an earthquake simulation."
The red light grew brighter. The trembling intensified. Heat radiated from the cracks.
"What is that? Lava? Fire? Am I about to be grilled medium rare?"
He backed up, eyes darting. "Nope. Nope. Not a fan of this development."
A violent rumble shook the ground beneath him. Then—without warning—columns of fire erupted upward in a deafening roar, spiraling into the sky.
"AH, HELL!" Damien shouted, throwing up his arms and bracing himself, eyes squeezed shut.
He expected to be consumed. Burned. Erased.
But nothing happened.
The heat faded. The sound died. The pressure lifted.
Cautiously, Damien opened one eye… then the other.
The void was gone.
In its place was an impossibly vast, awe-inspiring domain.
He stood on a cliff of blackened obsidian overlooking a vast valley where rivers of lava wove through jagged terrain like molten veins. Towering spires of volcanic rock jutted skyward, and above them all, a sky painted in hues of red, gold, and orange shimmered with fire-kissed auroras.
Fiery stars twinkled like embers in the heavens, and massive planets—crimson, copper, and deep gold—hung low in the sky, as if watching.
Damien turned in a slow circle, jaw slack. "Okay… okay, what the actual hell just happened?"
He took a few steps, boots crunching against glowing stone. "One second I'm in a void. The next I'm in some kind of fire god's fever dream. This place is insane."
He looked up, mesmerized. "That sky… it's like a lava lamp got promoted to godhood. And those stars? Are those actual planets? How close are they?"
The sheer beauty, the raw energy—it made the air feel electric.
Damien let out a long breath. "If this is hell, it's way prettier than I expected. Still hot as hell though."
He glanced back, half expecting the void to return. It didn't.
Instead, the scenery pulsed with fiery life. A heartbeat beneath the world.
Then—
A voice, melodic and commanding: "Welcome to my world, Damien Cross."
He looked up.
A throne, high on a staircase of burning stone.
And on it, a woman.
Hair like flowing magma. Eyes flickering between warmth and wrath. She wore a robe of living flame and smiled with dangerous curiosity.
Damien stammered, "W-Who are you?!"
She smirked. "Hello, my little flame. I am Ignara Vermilion, Goddess of Fire."
His eyes widened. "What the hell!?"
Ignara's laughter echoed through the sky.
Damien stood frozen. His eyes wide, his breath shallow. Before him—radiant, powerful, impossibly beautiful—stood a goddess made of flame.
He blinked.
What the hell is this place?! This… burning sky? And why—why am I talking to a goddess of all things? Am I hallucinating? Did I actually get hit that hard?! What does she mean I wished for this?!
The woman on the throne giggled softly, her voice a melody of heat and teasing. "No, this is real, my little flame."
Damien jerked upright. "She heard that?! What—how did she know—?!"
He took a cautious step back, part awestruck, part alarmed. "Okay… what is this? Why am I here? And are you actually a fire goddess?"
She giggled again, stepping forward gracefully. "Impressed, aren't you? I would be too. That moment—when you saved that child—you impressed me."
Damien narrowed his eyes. "I did that because—"
The goddess smiled, interrupting gently. "You saved the child because you didn't want that boy—or his mother—to suffer like you did. The way you did, when you watched your own mother die in a hospital bed... just a few years ago."
Damien's heart skipped. His eyes widened, face paling. "How... how did you know that?"
Ignara stepped closer, her gaze softened. "Because I've been watching you for a long time. I see what's been eating at you. The guilt, the rage. Since your mother died, you've been fighting everything—and everyone. Your temper... your pain... it burns so brightly."
Damien's fists clenched, his voice shaking. "I couldn't do anything... just stood there, while my mother... while she... I was weak!"
The flames around Ignara's throne surged, mirroring his anguish. She slowly descended the steps, fire trailing behind her like a living cape.
"It's going to be alright," she said gently.
"HOW?!" Damien shouted, eyes glowing with raw fury and sorrow. "I'm dead! She's gone! How the hell is ANY of this alright?!"
Ignara didn't flinch. "Because this… is your second chance."
Damien staggered. His mind reeled.
A second life? Power? What does that mean? Why me? Why now?!
"Because," she said, her voice like molten honey, "I won't let you suffer powerlessly again. In the next world, you'll have strength—strength to change fates. To stop others from dying the way she did. No more helplessness. Only fire."
Damien stared at her, silent. Shocked.
...She's serious. She's really giving me a new life. And power...?
Ignara stepped forward. Damien blinked—and suddenly she was in front of him. Towering, regal. The heat that rolled off her wasn't painful. It was like sunlight... made solid.
He took a step back, not out of fear—but reverence.
What is she doing...?
She raised both hands, cupping his face gently.
Damien's breath caught.
Her hands… they're hot, but not burning. It's like... warmth I forgot I needed.
Their eyes locked. Hers blazed with galaxies of flame. His shimmered with pain... and the faint spark of hope.
"Damien Cross," she said softly. "I now send you to a new world. And with you, I give not fire... but the origin of it."
His eyes widened. "Origin...? Wait—what—what does that mean—?!"
She smiled with mystery. "It means you will be reborn. In a world not like this one—filled with monsters, magic, swords, and sorcery. A world that needs a spark."
Reborn...? Another world... a second life? Me—starting over?
His eyes fell, trembling with emotion. "To live again... without regrets? Without failure? Without that helplessness...?"
He looked back up at her, voice small. "You're saying... I get to live again? Start from zero?"
"Yes," she said. "And this time, you'll have the power to change things. To burn through fear, through loss. To protect. And to fight."
Damien held his breath.
The power of fire... but not just normal fire. Something ancient. Something divine. Is this really happening?
Ignara raised one hand. Between her fingers bloomed a golden ember—like a miniature sun, pulsing with life.
"You will become an Overpowered Fire Mage," she said. "Even at Level 1, your flame will be unmatched. Your magic will not run dry. And your fiery temper? It will fuel your strength."
Damien's jaw dropped.
An... Overpowered Fire Mage? At level 1?! Infinite fire magic? And my temper actually makes me stronger?!
"This... this isn't magic," he said. "This is madness."
Ignara laughed, stepping even closer. "So, Damien... what do you think? Will you like this new life? This overwhelming firepower?"
He stood in silence, staring at her... processing.
Her words. Her smile. The warmth radiating from the orb in her hand—no, not just fire. Something older. Something alive.
Then slowly, his lips parted. His gaze burned with resolve.
"Yes," Damien said firmly. "I want it. I want to live again. I want to burn brighter than ever."
Ignara's smile deepened. "Good. Then let me show you what it means... to receive not fire... but the Origin of Fire."
Her flame-colored hair flowed like molten lava, and the space around her pulsed with ancient energy.
Ignara raised her arms. The void around them trembled.
"Now," she said, her voice soft and commanding. "Allow me to show you what it truly means—when I say you will wield the Origin of fire."
She raised both hands before her, palms cupped together. The air between them warped, distorting like a heatwave in the summer sun. Then suddenly—
CRACK.
The air split like glass shattering, a rift tearing through the very fabric of reality. Light spilled out in slow, golden rays. From within the fracture, a tiny ember flickered to life.
Then another.
Then a thousand.
They spun in orbit, swarming toward the center of her hands like fireflies drawn to gravity. The embers spiraled inward, faster and faster, until the light compressed into a single, burning mass.
The heat intensified. The void itself recoiled. Space bent around her hands, unable to contain the force.
And then, with a final flash of radiance, it stabilized—
A flame-shaped crystal heart, no bigger than her fist, hovered between her palms. It glowed with golden-red light, rotating slowly as if it were breathing.
Molten runes spiraled across its smooth surface, shimmering with power. They formed languages never meant for mortal minds—primordial, ancient, sacred.
Inside the heart flickered a flame unlike any fire Damien had ever seen—not wild or destructive, but alive. It pulsed with rhythm. With purpose. It was fire that built, not broke. Fire that created.
The heart hummed with power. The air around it shimmered. The void trembled—not from heat, but from reverence and fear.
Damien stared, eyes wide.
That's not magic... that's something older than magic. That's not a spell. It's a soul of fire.
This… this is the Origin Flame...?
Ignara's voice dropped into a near whisper, low and reverent. "Behold—the Infernal Core: Flameheart of the Primordial Sovereign. The source of all flame. The heartbeat of the first fire. And now, Damien Cross... it is yours."
She stepped toward him.
Damien instinctively braced, unsure—scared, yet drawn in.
Can I even survive that? That thing feels like it could melt time itself...!
Ignara gently placed the core against his chest. Her hands rested over it—soft, warm, divine.
"Accept it," she whispered. "Let it become your fire. Let it become you."
Then she pushed.
The core sank into Damien's chest like molten light pouring into still water.
His body arched.
His mouth opened in a silent cry.
Eyes wide.
Then—
BOOOOOM.
A pulse of divine fire erupted from his chest, expanding outward like a star being born.
His back arched, glowing cracks racing across his skin like lava veins.
His skin shimmered with radiant heat, absorbing runes that seared into his very being.
His hair ignited, bursting upward like a phoenix's crown—but it did not burn. It glowed.
His mana exploded. No longer measurable. No longer finite.
Wings of fire erupted from his back—massive, divine, alive. They stretched wide and high, phoenix-like, each beat of their wings stirring the void into waves.
The ground beneath his feet melted and turned to glowing obsidian, even in this limitless realm.
It's inside me—changing me. No, awakening me! My soul is burning… but it doesn't hurt. It frees me!
His eyes snapped open. No longer human. Now liquid gold, flickering with eternal flame.
When he spoke, his voice resonated like embers in a storm.
"I… I can feel it. The core. The fire. The origin. It's mine."
The storm of flame slowed, swirling around him like sentient fire spirits, orbiting their master.
Damien now stood reborn.
Flames flowed from his shoulders like a royal mantle.
His hands shimmered with raw elemental power.
Molten runes glowed across his arms, chest, and collarbone—divine marks that branded his soul.
The Infernal Core pulsed gently in his chest, fused with his spirit, becoming his eternal spark.
The void no longer trembled. It bowed.
Ignara smiled, proud and solemn.
"You are no longer a boy with anger, Damien. You are the Flame Reborn. My little flame—now the bearer of the fire before fire ever existed."
The firestorm faded, and the last of the divine embers fluttered to stillness around him. The void was silent now—watching, reverent.
Ignara stood before the young man she had chosen. Her gaze softened into a proud smile, like a sculptor admiring the final stroke of a masterpiece.
"My little flame," she whispered to herself. "So much chaos… so much power… and yet, you shine."
Her heart, ancient and untamed, fluttered. To witness someone embrace the very fire of creation and not be consumed—it stirred something divine and tender within her.
Damien stirred, rising slowly from the obsidian ground. He looked down at his body, eyes wide as gold flames flickered beneath his skin.
He flexed his fingers. Fire danced between them.
He inhaled. The air itself tasted warmer now, vibrant.
"I... I feel like a sun wearing skin," he muttered, staring at the golden glow trailing from his shoulders. "Like my blood is lava and my bones are embersteel."
Ignara chuckled gently. "How do you feel, my little flame?"
Damien turned toward her, golden eyes reflecting her glow.
"How do I feel?" he said, grinning. "I feel… alive. Like I've been asleep all my life and just woke up for the first time. This isn't just power—it's clarity. Fire in its purest form. It doesn't burn... it belongs."
He raised one hand, concentrating. A thin spiral of flame curled from his palm.
With a snap of his fingers—FWOOSH!—the flame expanded, then reshaped itself into a spinning wheel.
Damien laughed, twirling it like a baton.
"Okay, this is kinda awesome."
He threw the firewheel into the air—it exploded into dozens of flickering sparks that swirled back into his hands.
Then, he clapped.
Flames shot out from both sides of his body in a showy burst, forming twin swords of heat before vanishing again.
Ignara laughed, rich and delighted. Her voice echoed like song through the firelit void.
"You're already playing with your new gift," she said, eyes shining. "Just like I thought you would. So bold, so untamed. You truly are my little flame."
Damien grinned, then looked down again at his hands. The runes along his skin glowed faintly.
"It's not just magic," he murmured. "It's like the fire knows me. Like it's part of my heartbeat. I can feel it in my chest… in my thoughts… even my anger feels quieter. Not gone, just... focused."
Ignara's expression softened, her smile warm.
"This is only the beginning. The flame you carry is ancient. But it's yours now. And soon... the world will see it too."
She stepped back slightly, eyes gleaming with divine promise. "Are you ready, Damien Cross, to step into your new world?"
Damien held up a hand before the spell could begin. "Wait—before I go… this world I'm being sent to—what's its magic like? What kind of system does it use?"
Ignara paused, amused by his curiosity. "A good question. The world you're going to, called Ignisra, runs on a magical framework born of elemental roots. There are five core branches—Fire, Water, Earth, Air, and Ether. Each mage attunes to one based on their affinity and soul."
She circled him slowly, her voice smooth and rhythmic. "Most mortals must train, earn mana, and form pacts with spirits or study grimoires for years. Spells require incantations, gestures, and mental clarity. Even then, their power is limited by their mana reserves."
She smiled slyly. "But you, my little flame... will be different."
Damien tilted his head. "How so?"
"You wield the Origin of Fire," Ignara said. "A primordial force. It doesn't obey the rules. It doesn't require chants. It responds to will and emotion—especially passion, rage, and resolve. Your flame is alive, and it will grow with you."
Damien blinked. "So, it's like a living magic?"
"Exactly," she nodded. "And you've already been feeding it with your soul's fire. It will adapt, change, and evolve. In Ignisra, people will fear it… or worship it. Either way, you will not go unnoticed."
"Ignisra," Damien echoed, tasting the name. "What kind of world is it?"
Ignara's gaze turned thoughtful. "Beautiful. Wild. Dangerous. A realm of empires, dragons, forgotten gods, ancient relics, and wars for power. It's a world teetering on the edge of chaos."
She looked back at him, her smile returning. "Sounds like your kind of place, doesn't it?"
Damien smirked. "You had me at dragons."
Ignara laughed softly, then raised her hand. A red-gold aura began to form around it like a spiral of divine energy.
"Then it's time," she said.
Magic flared.
A glowing magic circle bloomed beneath Damien's feet. Crimson symbols glowed, spinning in place. The ground beneath him lit with energy.
Columns of golden light engulfed him, spiraling upward.
Damien glanced at her one last time. "See you around, goddess."
Ignara's smile deepened. "Make the world yours. And show them how bright you are, my little flame."
In a flash of light and warmth—he vanished.
Far away, in a quiet part of Ignisra...
A new magic circle lit the forest floor with radiant heat. Leaves trembled. Birds scattered.
The wind held its breath.
And then—
Damien appeared.
He stepped out of the light, feet landing softly on dew-covered grass. The spell faded behind him, the last glyph vanishing with a whisper.
He looked around slowly.
Massive trees arched high into the sky, their trunks wide and twisted with glowing bark. Sunlight pierced through the canopy in golden shafts, catching on floating pollen and magical fireflies. A creek trickled nearby, its waters humming with faint enchantments.
Flowers swayed gently in a breeze that smelled of honey and ash.
The whole forest shimmered with life—both magical and natural.
Damien exhaled, slowly.
"This... is incredible," he whispered. "It's like the air is alive."
A gentle wind tugged at his cloak. Somewhere distant, a roar echoed faintly.
He smiled, heart pounding.
"Let's begin my new adventure."
He stepped forward.
Birds scattered ahead. Branches bent softly in greeting.
The fire within him pulsed in rhythm with the land.
As he walked deeper into the glowing forest, his boots crunching softly against roots and leaves, he felt it.
The world had already begun to shift around him.
And this time… he was ready.
Damien walked through the glowing forest, leaves rustling under his boots, birds singing above in the canopy. Magic seemed to hum through the air like background music only he could hear.
His thoughts were buzzing louder than the enchanted fireflies flitting around him.
"Okay... I've got god-tier firepower, the blessing of a literal flame goddess, and I just got dropped into a fantasy world straight out of every manga I used to binge in high school," he said aloud to no one in particular. "Now there's only one thing left to do."
He cleared his throat and looked around, just to be sure no squirrels were judging him.
"Open... status," he mumbled.
A chime rang.
FWOOOSH!
A fiery crimson screen flared into existence in front of him—hanging midair, pulsing with heat like an embered display of divine code. It was clean, detailed, and absolutely ridiculous.
He blinked.
"Holy hell... it actually worked."
The screen read:
Name: Damien Cross
Age: 19
Race: Human (Flame-Blessed)
Level: 1
Class: Overpowered Fire Mage
Titles:
Bearer of the Origin Flame
Flame Sovereign's Chosen
Incarnate Ember
Antihero of the Embered Path
Walking Natural Disaster
HP: 999 / 999
MP: ∞ / ∞
Strength: 135
Agility: 142
Endurance: 116
Mana: ∞
Luck: ???
Charm: 175
Normal Skills:
Fire Resistance MAX – Completely immune to heat, flame, and lava.
Thermal Sense – Detects living beings by body heat, even through walls.
Appraisal – Analyzes enemies, items, and locations instantly with detailed stats.
Instant Ignite – Snap fingers to start fires. Even underwater.
Heatproof Cooking – Can cook with fire magic. Nothing burns unless intended.
Flamewalker – Walk across lava, fire, or burning buildings like flat ground.
Atmospheric Burn – Passive. Air ignites subtly around Damien in combat.
Elemental Presence: Fire – Passive. Fire creatures either fear or follow him.
Spatial Trail – Leave a burning trail for fast return travel. (City-to-city recall).
High-Speed Recovery – Heals from minor wounds rapidly. Burns cauterize instantly.
Spatial Navigation – Fast travel to previously visited places. 1/hr cooldown.
Pyrostep – Teleports up to 500m with fire burst. Leaves scorched crater.
Ability Skills:
Mana Overflow – Infinite MP. Spells grow stronger with time and rage.
Reflex Burn – Counters melee attacks with a burst of flame.
Heat Pressure Field – 10m aura raises temp. Debuffs enemy agility/focus.
Flame Brand – Melee attacks can ignite foes. 50% burn chance.
Crimson Momentum – +10% STR/AGI per minute in combat (up to +100%).
Overcast Override – Cast high-tier spells instantly, ignoring cooldowns.
Ember Cloak – Passive armor of heat. Physical attacks may miss.
Inferno Stomp – Slam ground, 20m flame shockwave. Destroys terrain.
Burnout Punch – Converts mana into explosive fire strikes.
Flame Absorption – Regains HP/MP from nearby fire sources.
Magic Fire Skills:
Blazing Mirage – Creates exploding flame clones.
Flame Spiral Lance – Spiraling fire spear that pierces magic barriers.
Fireball EX – Large-scale explosive fireball. Fortress-level damage.
Dragon's Breath Beam – Hyperheated flame beam melts steel.
Inferno Spiral – Fire tornado tracks enemies, scorches all.
Hellstorm – Rains fire over a wide area.
Ash Barrage – Rapid-fire small flame bolts.
Flame Bind – Chains of fire that burn and paralyze.
Eruption Line – Lava wave erupts beneath targets.
Phoenix Rise (Lv. Locked) – Summon a phoenix that revives Damien once/day.
Solar Flare Pulse – Blinds and burns enemies in all directions.
Unique Skills:
Infernal Core: Flameheart of the Primordial Sovereign – Infinite mana, emotion-based amplification, divine fire regeneration. Flame obeys Damien's will.
Wrath Surge – When enraged, stats double for 30 seconds. Fire becomes uncontrollable.
Soulburn Aura – Attacks against Damien cause internal burning over time.
Flame Memory – Can copy any fire-based magic seen once.
Ignara's Blessing – Divine bond. Immune to fire damage. Respected/feared by all fire creatures.
Emotion Sync – Fire power scales directly with Damien's emotional state.
Snapcast – Instantly casts all fire spells. No chant, no delay.
Reignite (Passive) – Revives Damien near flame source with full power once.
Weapons:
Hellbrand – Blazing longsword made from dragon fang. Boosts fire spells.
Ashbreaker Gauntlets – Fire-powered melee casting tools. Boosts strike damage.
Items: (Currently Empty)
Damien stared at the screen, jaw slightly agape.
"Okay," he muttered, stunned. "This… this isn't a build. This is a cheat code. This is like playing on New Game+ with god-mode enabled."
He started pacing in a small circle, talking aloud. "Fire immunity. Infinite mana. Passive fire armor. A teleport punch that leaves a crater. Clones that explode. A resurrection phoenix?!"
He paused, rubbing his temples.
"And I'm Level 1. LEVEL. ONE. What happens at level ten?! Or fifty?!"
A slow grin crept across his face.
"Ignara, you beautiful chaotic deity... you didn't give me a second chance. You gave me an overhaul."
He swiped the screen closed with a gesture. The embers drifted away.
Cracking his knuckles, he looked ahead, eyes burning with anticipation.
"Alright," he said. "Let's keep moving."
And with that, Damien strode deeper into the forest, the trees whispering with the wind, the fire within him ready to burn a new legend into this world.
To Be Continued...