Chapter 41: Living Flame A bit surprised, Nightingale managed to lift his heavy eyelids. As his vision gradually cleared, he saw a pristine mask staring down at him.
Flaming Rose knelt beside him and placed her hand on his chest, her presence looming yet strangely gentle. Up close, her pale pink hair caught his attention. It was stunning, gorgeous and almost ethereal.
It looked otherworldly, or at least that was the closest way to describe it.
The more he examined it, the more artificial it seemed. Come to think of it, how many people did he know with naturally pink hair? Very few. Pink was hardly a natural hair color, and the only way someone could have it was by dyeing it that shade.
The only person he knew with naturally colored hair was Chloe, whose silvery-white locks perfectly complemented her tanned skin and gray eyes.
Of course, Chloe and Rose were completely different, despite sharing the same tanned skin tone and relative height. He was certain of this because Chloe didn’t have a belly button piercing.
Who even did that? Was it some new fashion trend?
He didn’t dwell on it and pushed the thought aside, focusing on something far more pressing.
’Why is she staring at me like that?’
Nightingale narrowed his eyes, meeting her gaze, trying to discern her intentions.
Unfazed, Rose held his stare for a long moment, clearly weighing something in her mind. Then she exhaled softly and returned her attention to the hands resting on his chest.
A soft, radiant light began to glow beneath the skin of her palms, reflecting in her eyes behind the pristine mask like twin stars dancing in the night.
The glow started gently, almost hesitantly, but gradually, she pressed harder, and the brilliance intensified, spreading warmth and power with each passing second. Nightingale, the recipient of this blessing, felt his mind lift into a euphoric haze, as if he were intoxicated.
All the pain in his body melted away, replaced by a gentle, all-encompassing warmth. It was as if something pure and sacred was cleansing him.
He was being enveloped by an azure devouring flame.
Under the flame’s influence, his injuries began to mend one by one. The warmth seeped into every fiber of his being, traveling from the surface of his skin deep into his bones and organs. He could feel his torn muscles knitting themselves back together, fibers weaving into place with almost surgical accuracy.
His lungs, scorched and labored from the Pale Terror’s strike, expanded easily as if the weight pressing on his chest had vanished. Every rib, tendon and vein seemed to hum with renewed vitality.
Even the damage he couldn’t see — the shattered cells, the fractured blood vessels, the bruised internal organs — were being repaired. It was as though the azure radiance could reach every corner of his body and penetrate even the spaces modern medicine and technology could never touch.
Pain gave way to tingling warmth, and the tight, suffocating pressure in his chest vanished like the wind. His heartbeat, which had been erratic and faltering, steadied, pulsing with a gentle rhythm. Nightingale felt his strength returning, each breath filling him with life.
As the process continued, his vision began to sharpen. Colors returned to the world, richer and more vivid than before. A sense of clarity accompanied the healing, as if his body and mind were being reset, restored to a state beyond its initial.
By the time the brilliance in Rose’s palms began to fade, Nightingale could no longer remember the searing pain he had felt moments ago. Every wound, visible or hidden, had been soothed, sealed, and revitalized. He lay there with his chest rising and falling evenly.
The experience was... truly divine.
’W-What is this? A fire ability that heals? Ah... I see.’ Nightingale’s thoughts swirled as a fragment of memory surfaced, a faint echo of something she had said nearly two weeks ago.
Now everything made sense. Her words back then had been true.
Oblivious to his thoughts, Rose straightened, sitting upright as she turned her gaze on him and asked,
"Are you alright? Does anything still hurt?"
Nightingale sat up and tested his movements, stretching and twisting to check for lingering pain. Finding none, he scratched his head and replied,
"Guess not. I don’t feel any pain anywhere at all."
A soft sigh of relief escaped her.
"I see... I’m glad."
Her voice softened at the end, almost gentle.
Then, without warning, something shifted behind the eye sockets of her pristine mask, and before he could react, Rose’s hand shot out at once and slapped him across the cheek.
† †
Moments later, after taking time to catch their breath, Nightingale and Flaming Rose resumed their descent into the depths of the Black Spire, carefully navigating the spiraling staircase that wound ever downward.
The atmosphere between them was, to say the least, tense and peculiar.
Rose walked ahead, confidently leading the way, while Nightingale trailed behind, his hand instinctively touching the cheek she had struck. The sting still lingered, and a faint redness marked the spot — an unmistakable reminder that he had just been scolded.
After all, he had come dangerously close to death.
’Damnit... that hurts! I get being scolded, but why did she have to slap me that hard? And why does it feel... personal?’
The young woman walking ahead of him was a complete mystery. He had no idea who she really was. Even so, for some reason, she reminded him of his childhood friend, Chloe.
There were a few similarities.
Both shared a tanned complexion. Both stood at a height of 168 centimeters. Both possessed a slender, feminine physique, subtly toned with hints of muscle here and there. Both had an above-average bust and a voluptuous, ample backside. The resemblance was jarring, so much so that his mind couldn’t help but wander toward a certain possibility.
’Could Flaming Rose... be Chloe? No way, that doesn’t make sense at all!’
Nightingale shook his head, trying to banish the ridiculous thought away.
𝕗𝕣𝐞𝐞𝘄𝐞𝚋𝚗𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹.𝚌𝕠𝚖 He knew with near certainty that his childhood friend couldn’t be an Esper. At least, not to his knowledge. It had to be a coincidence. Chloe wasn’t the only person with tanned skin, and plenty of people could share a similar body type.
After all, Los Angeles was a melting pot, brimming with people from all corners of the world. It was only natural that a few individuals would share similar physical traits. Beyond that, their personalities couldn’t be more different.
If Flaming Rose was composed and reserved, Chloe had always been a spirited delinquent.
He just couldn’t picture the two of them being the same person.
In the end, Nightingale could only shake that thought away, though a hint of unease remained. His mind was far too preoccupied with the immediate dangers of the Black Spire to dwell on coincidences or impossibilities.
’Now that we have cleared the First and Second Floors, the next challenge would be the Third. Ms. Rose hadn’t said anything about it specifically, but it seemed this one requires the cooperation of two, rather than being something an individual could handle solo.’
After pondering it for a moment, that line of reasoning felt logical.
Had Flaming Rose been looking for a partner simply because she was tired of entering the Tower alone? He didn’t think so. There had to be a specific reason she sought a temporary ally and somehow, that reason had led her straight to him.
To be completely honest, teaming up with another Caster would have made far more sense for someone like her than partnering with him. Together, they could cover each other’s weaknesses and blind spots, making them far more formidable.
He, on the other hand, was just one person. Even with a Divine Mythic Origin and an unorthodox ability, he lacked the power to compensate for all her vulnerabilities as a Caster or to protect her effectively. For that matter, his mythic ability could barely protect him!
The "criteria of small objects" felt restrictive, especially in a life-or-death scenario, stifling his creativity and tactical options.
In simple terms, his resources were limited, though he didn’t dwell on it too much.
He was alive.
That was all that truly matters.
"We have arrived," Flaming Rose announced, her voice calm but carrying a subtle weight that made Nightingale glance up at her. The spiraling staircase opened into a vast chamber below that seemed to stretch endlessly, completely dominated by darkness.
Truly, they had arrived at the entrance of the Third Floor.