Fire Mage-Chapter 685: Reynolds

Chapter 685: Reynolds

"Hmm... you even removed our sofas. And my mother’s favorite portraits?" he added, voice laced with contempt.

The silver-armored woman realized the intruders were too powerful to handle and screamed,

"HELP!"

The first to respond was a wrinkled old man from the kitchen. Around 80 or 90, he had a frail frame, deep amber eyes, and wore round glasses. In one hand, he held a wooden cane, and in the other, a rolled leaf.

Despite his disheveled and intoxicated appearance, Charles recognized him immediately.

Bishop Reynolds.

He stumbled into the living room, peering uncertainly in their direction.

"Mary?" he mumbled, squinting and adjusting his glasses. He tried to walk but nearly fell.

"You alright?" he called out. Though he could see vague silhouettes, his vision was too poor to make them out.

"Lord David? Some guests have arrived. Please come down!" he shouted, stuffing the leaf into his mouth.

His vision slowly cleared, and he steadied himself.

Just then, three more people descended the spiral staircase. They stood protectively near the silver-armored woman.

"Who are you?" asked a black-robed man, drawing a dagger from his spatial ring. He was the strongest in the house, capable of challenging a normal Rank-5. But even he stepped back nervously as he observed Charles.

He looks completely ordinary... but I can’t find a single weakness.

The other two, dressed in red robes, took positions between Charles and the armored woman, gripping staffs from their spatial rings.

"Don’t you know this is Life Church property?" one of them demanded sternly.

Charles chuckled, walking past them and stopping before the old man.

"I never imagined I’d see you in this state, Father Reynolds."

"You are...?" Reynolds blinked. Something about the face struck a chord.

"Oh? So you’ve forgotten me?" Charles smiled. "Allow me to reintroduce myself. I’m Charles Nightwind. Two decades ago, my mother and I lived in this house. We owned it. When did it become the property of the Life Church, Father Reynolds?"

Though Charles’s voice was calm, a chilling pressure filled the room. Everyone felt as if invisible hands were tightening around their hearts.

"C-Charles?! You’re Charles!" Reynolds’s voice cracked as his vision sharpened.

"You are Charles!" He reached out with a trembling, callused hand and touched Charles’s cheek.

"You know him, old man?" the black-robed man asked suspiciously.

Reynolds took a deep breath, regaining his composure.

"P-Please... don’t harm anyone, Charles. I know the Life Church wronged you. They broke their promise. But this isn’t something you or I can fix."

Charles let out a long sigh.

"The only reason I’m not doing anything is because I don’t want to spill blood here again. You understand what that means, don’t you?"

The memory of Charles’s gruesome killing incident resurfaced in Reynolds’s mind.

"Except for Reynolds, all of you should leave the house," Charles ordered, his tone unwavering. "Whether you inform the Cardinal hiding in my estate or even the Pope himself, I don’t care."

He paused, his eyes shifting toward the direction of his villa. In an instant, he released his wisdom power.

A wave of pressure swept across the city.

Even those in Wind Villa—Cardinal, friends, allies—suddenly felt as though the air had thickened, as though something ancient and vast had just looked directly at them.

It only lasted two seconds, but that was enough.

The Cardinal and his companions shuddered. They exchanged wary glances and turned instinctively toward Riverdale City.

Head Deacon David, more familiar than most with such oppressive forces, paled.

’We’ve offended someone we shouldn’t have.

Even His Holiness doesn’t exude this kind of spiritual dominance!’

He dropped the dagger, bowed his head low, and said solemnly, "Head Deacon of the Life Church greets His Excellency."

Charles didn’t so much as glance at him. Instead, he waved his hand, releasing the invisible strings wrapped around the silver-armored woman.

"You have five minutes," he said coldly. "If anyone other than Bishop Reynolds remains inside, I’ll slit your throat without hesitation."

"W-We’ll leave immediately, Your Excellency!" Head Deacon David’s face went pale as he stood up in a hurry.

"We’re leaving," he said sharply, throwing a glance at the two red-robed priests and the silver-armored woman named Mary. They quickly moved to follow, leaving Reynolds rooted in place, stunned.

At the entrance, as they helped the semi-conscious High Priest to his feet, Charles’s voice called out again.

"Oh, and tell your Cardinal that Charles Nightwind is here for a little chat. And if he refuses to come, inform him I’m holding S-13."

"Yes, Your Excellency," David replied, not daring to look back. He grabbed the half-unconscious priest and dragged him out.

Before long, the Life Church entourage was gone, retreating hastily toward their headquarters.

"They finally left." Charles exhaled, nodding in mild satisfaction. "I thought they’d argue, but this is better."

He waved his hand, casting [Ignis Sanctuary].

A moment later, a radiant golden forcefield, forged from pure lawful flame, rose like a dome over the two-storied house, sealing it off from outside interference.

"Now, let’s see what to do with your situation," Charles said, turning to face Reynolds.

"Take off your robe, Father. I need to see just how far the corruption has spread."

A flicker of hesitation crossed Reynolds’s face. Questions swirled behind his eyes—why had the Head Deacon bowed to Charles? Why this sudden deference?

But he said nothing. 𝙛𝒓𝒆𝙚𝒘𝒆𝓫𝙣𝓸𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝒄𝒐𝓶

He slowly removed his eyeglasses, placed his wooden cane on the nearby table, and began to disrobe.

Charles’s eyes widened.

Wrinkled, dark skin covered in vertical, blinking eye-like patterns stretched across Reynolds’s chest and arms. Black, web-like tendrils crept from beneath the skin like an infestation. At the center of his chest pulsed a transparent, egg-shaped orb filled with reddish liquid.

Inside it floated a fist-sized, fleshy creature—small, vaguely humanoid, and seemingly alive.

With every beat of Reynolds’s heart, the orb pulsed, glowing faintly with a disturbing light.

"Demonised," Runeth muttered, his voice heavy.

Charles narrowed his eyes. "It looks more like a parasite... It’s feeding on his life force. You know what this is, old man?"

"Yes," Runeth replied grimly. "His body’s been infected by a demon’s parasite. Once his life force is drained, that thing in the orb will hatch... and a new demon will be born, using Reynolds’s soul."

"So it’s not just possession... it’s full replacement? Like stealing the soul core itself?" Charles asked. Without waiting for an answer, he cast [Purple Consciousness], sending a projection of himself into Reynolds’s Inner World.

The Purple Charles stood on a barren, lifeless plain, shrouded in eerie darkness.

Then came the pressure.

A wave of force swept across the land, almost knocking him off his feet. He conjured a shield of purple flame, bracing against it.

From the shadows, a towering, three-headed humanoid figure emerged. It walked toward him slowly, menacingly.

One of its heads turned.

A single vertical eye blinked.

In that moment, Purple Charles’s consciousness was engulfed in violet flame—and vanished.

Gone.

A voice echoed from the endless void.

"Charles... no, John Browning... What a fascinating toy. Hmm? Why do I sense something familiar?"

It tried to probe deeper.

But the connection was abruptly severed.

Back in the physical world, all the vertical eye-patterns across Reynolds’s body shimmered and blinked once—then went still.

Charles felt goosebumps crawl over his skin. He instinctively stepped back.

Runeth immediately reacted. He released his wisdom power, pulled out a golden ring engraved with seven leaf patterns, and threw it to the ground.

"Seven Leaf—Activate!"

A reddish light erupted in the room, shielding them from the probing force now radiating from Reynolds’s body.

Runes bloomed beneath Reynolds’s feet like a blossoming curse, swirling upward.

They coiled around him, slithering toward the vertical eyes across his body. When they touched, the eyes began to dim.

When the glow finally faded and the light withdrew, Charles exhaled.

"That was a Divine’s gaze... wasn’t it?" His voice was low. "I felt it staring at me."

"I felt it too," Runeth said, his face pale. "Powerful—enough to remind me of the Time God. And... oddly familiar."

He shot Charles a long look.

"You’re attracting too many enemies. I spent twenty years in the Rebirth Tower without a single threat. You’ve been out for just days, and already we’ve drawn another monster’s attention."

"I didn’t try to," Charles muttered under his breath.

"But what the hell was that? My Purple Consciousness vanished instantly. I didn’t even get a scrap of information from Reynolds’s Inner World."

He clenched his fists.

"And weren’t we told the Gods couldn’t interfere here? That they couldn’t reach their believers in this world? How is this even possible?"

"I saw something similar," Runeth murmured. "When I tried to send my Consciousness into that mysterious Purple Bead..."

A silence settled over the room.

Then Runeth sighed.

"Charles, that demon inside Reynolds... It’s not something we can handle. And as for Reynolds himself—he’s beyond saving."

"Can’t we just extract the orb?" Charles insisted. "If I use my soul flame—"

"That’s where you’re wrong, lad," Runeth cut in. "Demons from the Abyss aren’t born like us. They can’t reproduce. The Abyss doesn’t have a reincarnation cycle."