Shadow Weaver: Sole Heir Of The Night-Chapter 188: Deal

"Hm? You’re back so fast?"

The old burning man lifted his brows slowly, the faint creases on his forehead deepening as two figures tore through the smoky sky above the village. Ash drifted lazily in the air, disturbed by their descent as they headed straight for his cathedral.

The matter they carried back with them was not light. It pressed on the air itself, heavy and suffocating. It concerned Zeke’s future, a path that would scar him deeply, perhaps irreversibly.

It was reckless. It was cruel.

But there had never been another option.

They landed before the cathedral steps, boots grinding against scorched stone. The doors loomed behind Raven and Leon, tall and warped from years of heat that never truly faded.

The village remained silent.

No wind. No distant chatter. Only the faint crackle of embers that never fully died.

Enzo paused before stepping forward. For a moment he looked back at Zeke, a bitter smile pulling faintly at his lips, as if apologizing without words.

There was resignation in that smile.

And something else. Resolve.

A second later, Zeke moved.

He walked past Enzo, each step steady though the weight in his chest felt anything but. When he reached Leon, he stopped and lowered himself into a respectful bow.

"I’m sorry for my outburst, sincerely."

His voice was calm, stripped of pride. It did not tremble.

He had attacked Leon without provocation. That single act could fracture something as fragile as a new alliance. Trust, once cracked, never returned whole.

Zeke understood that.

He regretted it.

Leon watched him for a long second, unreadable as ever. The firelight reflected faintly in his eyes, but his expression barely shifted.

"It’s fine."

He gave a small nod.

Time away from the suffocating tension had allowed him to think clearly. His earlier question had been careless, shaped by desperation to escape the under dark.

Desperation clouded judgment.

He could admit that now.

"Have we come to a conclusion? When are we leaving?" Leon asked, turning slightly toward Raven.

His tone was practical. Measured.

To him, the deal had seemed impossible from the start. Leaving had always felt like the only logical outcome.

"Not yet."

Enzo stepped forward as he spoke, pushing open the cathedral doors. They creaked softly, revealing the dim red glow inside.

The air within was warmer. Thicker.

They entered together.

At the far end of the cathedral, the burning man sat upon his chair. Crimson robes pooled around him like liquid fire, fabric shifting faintly as though stirred by heat rather than wind.

Flames coiled lazily around his shoulders, never consuming, never fading.

"You’re acceptable to my deal?" he asked.

His voice echoed faintly against the stone walls.

There was no mockery in his tone. No manipulation. If anything, there was a faint trace of anticipation.

He was not exploiting them.

If anything, the cost was heavier on his side. Servitude was no small pledge. And regardless of Zeke’s talent, he could not rival a being who once stood against the high god Gaia and survived.

"Yes, it’s acceptable," Zeke replied.

He straightened slowly.

"But the deal isn’t with me..."

His gaze shifted.

Toward Enzo.

The burning man followed that look, then released a soft, understanding sigh.

"Ahhh, I see."

His eyes narrowed slightly.

"I’m afraid that won’t cut it. I noticed the flame around him. It’s not as special..."

He did not finish.

The air changed.

At first it was subtle, like a shift in pressure before a storm. Then the cathedral filled with light.

Not bright in the way of fire.

Not blinding.

It was pure.

A splendid glow unfolded from Enzo, gentle yet absolute, illuminating every crack in the ancient stone. The red flames that clung to the cathedral walls flickered uncertainly, shrinking as though in reverence.

The burning man gasped.

It was involuntary.

His lungs emptied, breath stolen as his eyes widened. For the first time since they had met him, genuine shock carved across his face.

Feeling a flame from afar was one thing.

Standing within its presence was something entirely different.

This was not heat.

It was authority.

"This... is impossible," he muttered.

His voice had lost its certainty.

He appeared middle aged, but that was a deception worn by time. He had lived for several millennia. Empires had risen and fallen before his eyes. Gods had been born, worshiped, and forgotten.

His knowledge spanned ages.

He had witnessed the formation of laws that shaped existence itself. He was older than the establishment of Sky planet, older than many concepts mortals believed eternal.

There was little in this universe that could surprise him.

Yet this flame did.

It carried no familiar signature. No traceable origin. It did not align with any elemental lineage he knew, nor any divine classification recorded in his vast memory.

It simply existed.

Above hierarchy.

Beyond comprehension.

For the first time in countless years, the burning man realized there was something in this world he did not understand.

And that unsettled him more than any enemy ever had.

""Where did you get this flame?"

The burning man’s voice had lost its earlier composure. It was quieter now, edged with something dangerously close to hunger. He leaned forward from his chair, crimson robes whispering against the stone floor as heat rippled faintly around him.

Without waiting for permission, he extended his hand.

The motion was swift.

He snatched the hovering flame from Enzo’s palm.

It looked abrupt, almost aggressive, but it was not true theft. The flame that left Enzo’s hand was only a manifested fragment, a projection shaped for display. The true essence remained anchored to Enzo’s core, bound by will and blood.

The burning man studied it closely.

The glow reflected in his pupils, casting shifting patterns across his face. The cathedral dimmed further, as though even the ambient fires dared not compete with this foreign light.

"It’s a gift from a willing friend," Enzo replied.

His tone carried a faint mockery.

He did not elaborate.

The memory of his second voyage surfaced briefly in his mind. The suffocating silence of that realm. The resistance. The struggle.

Raz had not surrendered that flame willingly.

Enzo had forced it.

He had reached into a source that was never meant to be divided and carved out a portion through sheer dominance. It had been brutal. Ruthless.

Perhaps the most vicious act he had committed.

And yet the rewards were immeasurable.

This flame did not merely burn. It altered. It elevated. It defied structures older than nations.

He had originally intended to give a fragment of it to Zeke. That promise still lingered in the air between them, unspoken but remembered.

In that sense, this arrangement was not unfair.

The burning man exhaled slowly.

"Okay."

He gave a small nod.

It was not proper to pry too deeply into another’s origin of power. Secrets were currency in this world. To press too far was to invite hostility.

He had no intention of souring a deal over curiosity.

He allowed the flame to drift back toward Enzo’s palm, though his gaze lingered on it with clear fascination.

"Essentially," Enzo continued, stepping forward slightly, "you will be affiliated with two forces. The Sky and the dual moon Clandora."

His voice was steady.

"We will not demand unreasonable service. Nor will we brand you with marks of slavery or binding sigils."

The words settled into the cathedral like a formal contract.

There was no deception woven within them. No hidden clauses waiting to be sprung.

The burning man felt it.

Every word Enzo spoke carried weight. Authority. An invisible law that recognized truth when uttered.

"This is agreeable," the burning man replied without hesitation.

His posture relaxed slightly.

However, his eyes returned once more to the unfamiliar flame.

"There is one matter," he added.

He stood slowly from his chair, robes cascading around him as the cathedral seemed to breathe with his movement.

"This flame is unknown to me."

That admission did not come easily.

"I have never encountered its like across millennia. Its structure does not align with any elemental doctrine. Its heat is not measured in temperature. Its presence... interferes."

A bright glow ignited in his eyes, not from pride, but from intellectual excitement.

"I will require time to accommodate it. To study its nature. To harmonize it with my own core."

He paused.

"Say a month?"

The request was reasonable on the surface.

Yet a month in the under dark was not a trivial span. Time moved strangely here. Pressure accumulated. Forces shifted.

Enzo frowned slightly.

"That’s..." he began, his expression tightening.

A month meant delay.

The hunter games would be starting in few days, They preferred not to miss this opportunity. After all the dual moon institute backed a lot on this opportunity.

"Don’t be worried, I can still send you out of here without fully accommodating the flame, I will however need it transferred to me before that happens" the burning man explained.

He only needed to wield its power to tear open a rift through this place and, sending out the three exalted weavers and one sancitified was not as hard as him leaving himself.

It was much easier

Much more possible.