Chapter 41: Outlaws

Scar was confused, and so were Julien and Purple.

Sweat ran down Arthur’s face, his teeth bared in a threatening grin, his hands prepared to burn Scar alive. Then he stopped. His guard dropped, replaced by an uncomfortable smile as he scratched his head.

“Whoa… Flames of the Unknown, huh? That’s really something… no kidding.”

Purple frowned. “What just happened? Are you offended because his Inheritance sounds like an Outlaw?”

Fear shot through Scar.

For a moment, Arthur had seemed like an enemy, another Dain. But Purple’s interjection made him reconsider. Though he wasn’t entirely convinced.

“Outlaw? What’s that?”

Everyone turned to Scar with a confused look.

“Huh? You don’t know what an Outlaw is?” Julien asked, his confusion rivaling Scar’s own.

Scar shrugged.

Purple shook her head in disbelief, “So… how exactly do you think your Inheritance picked you?”

Scar’s confusion turned even more apparent. “I don’t know. I just woke up with it. My predecessors were too busy running for their lives from the Ruler of Zeus to worry about mundane details.”

Arthur interrupted, “Humans like to pretend Inheritances are random just to feel at ease. They’re not. Like Scarlet Kin, they’re classified: Executors, Enforcers, Outlaws, and Architects.”

Executors: Inheritances tied to specific origins, whether a person, family, or concept. They earned this classification because of their tendency to serve.

The majority of Inheritances were Executors, as they were comparatively easy to birth and particularly vulnerable to influence from other Inheritances.

Enforcers represented a different class: Inheritances bound to holy sites, divine beings, or what ancient peoples had considered angels. These manifestations were uncommon.

Despite some Enforcers counting among the Founders of Magic’s own powers, conventional wisdom held that Architects still commanded them.

They naturally gravitated toward enforcing rules or pursuing agendas, making them particularly suited to guarding others.

Architects were the highest tier. These Inheritances were believed to embody gods or beings beyond comprehension. They possessed the power to break, reinforce, and rewrite fundamental rules.

Identifying them was straightforward—their potential was staggering, their abilities seemingly impossible. Scar immediately recognized Dain’s Ruler of Zeus as an Architect. It made his blood run cold.

Last were Outlaws: Inheritances classified as fallen or connected to darker realms. They were rarely well-understood and notoriously complex, ranging from genuinely benevolent to thoroughly evil.

Even so, they always sought to destroy or rebuild what was destroyed. And Scar’s own Inheritance, Flames of the Unknown, fell squarely into this category.

Without a chosen successor before the wielder’s death, Inheritances became selective about their next bearer. Each category maintained certain standards, thresholds that had to be reached before the power would accept someone.

“The classifications are fixed. They never change. They were decided long before us, for reasons we might never understand. And the moment you awaken, you’re meant to know your classification, because it determines everything you’re allowed to become.”

Arthur smiled, “But you’re different. In your case, I know exactly why that memory never surfaced.”

He patted Scar on the head.

Scar frowned, unconvinced. Arthur’s instinctive hostility couldn’t be explained by the Outlaw classification alone. Something deeper was at play, something Arthur was deliberately withholding.

“Uncle… what aren’t you telling me? If there’s something I need to know, say it. This could save my life.”

The moment he said it, reality snapped back into focus. He clenched his jaw, annoyed.

Arthur couldn’t reveal it even if he wished to. It was forbidden to discuss someone’s Inheritance if the wielder didn’t already know. Such a transgression would awaken Vortex, Terror of Disgust, a Hostile-level threat Daywalker. Even killing the creature wouldn’t erase it. A replacement would emerge within days.

Arthur put on a mock-innocent face and gestured to his left eye, where the scar had left him blind. “I don’t think I have to remind you, Scar.”

Scar’s teeth grind harder.

Right. This was that Scarlet Kin from his parents’ story, the creature that had attacked his father and left Arthur half-blind. The very event that became Scar’s namesake.

It was strange, though. Why didn’t Vortex appear when they told him about his Inheritance’s classification? Well, maybe it had everything to do with the Inheritance’s origin.

He clicked his tongue.

Arthur smiled. “Stop brooding. Knowledge doesn’t fall into your lap. Start with the academy libraries, and if that’s not enough, you know where we Rovers keep our books.”

Scar met Arthur’s eyes for a moment and sighed. He would uncover the truth eventually, but at the moment, getting stronger mattered most. Knowing why Dain wanted him dead would just give his death a reason, it wouldn’t stop it.

He forced a smile. “Forget about it, unc. Let’s get this training going.”

Arthur started doting again, though he quickly returned to serious matters.

“Explain your flames to me. What they do, how they behave. Because we share the same element, I can guide you better than anyone.”

Scar stroked his chin for a moment. “That’s exactly the problem, Unc. They call it Flames of the Unknown, and yet I’m only the second among the seven to summon actual flames. And the first to know how to.”

Amusement flickered across Arthur’s face, knowing and secretive. He clearly knew something Scar had yet to realize.

“Those gloves Mingle got you, brought them, didn’t you? Now, let me see what your flames are truly capable of.”

Scar nodded, getting it now. He could tap into the power without actually summoning flames, sparing himself the damage. Unwrapping his hands, he revealed the dark marks the decay ability had branded into his skin.

This time, he simply seized a wooden dummy’s head, channeled his ability, and felt his palm heat up. Moments later, the head had decomposed entirely, leaving no trace.

Everyone’s eyes lit with interest briefly, but Scar wasn’t done yet.

He pulled the gloves from his pockets. His flames had two properties: decay and ordinary burning. Initially, he’d barely been able to maintain the normal flames for even a second before the decay broke through and started consuming him as well.

Initially, he’d discovered a solution: channeling the flames through his sword, Black Sun. The sword could maintain the flames indefinitely, keeping them burning until Scar extinguished them. But it remained dangerous, he had less than a second to make it work.

Now, with his hands darkened by decay, Mingle had designed these gloves to function much like Black Sun, holding the flames without letting the decay through.

He was supposed to wait for his hands to heal completely before using the gloves. But he was pretty sure even Mingle knew he wouldn’t follow through.

“I’ve been working with the gloves bit by bit, and I think I finally have a handle on them,” Scar said with a smirk.

He donned the gloves. Immediately, dark flames wreathed his hands. He launched them at the dummies, burning three dummies into ashes.

Arthur appeared impressed, yet the guarded look in his eyes never quite disappeared.

“That’s amazing, Scar… now I can finally teach you how to handle flames like a god.” Arthur’s smile was beyond creepy.

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