Volume Dragon: Start by obtaining the Infinity Gems

Chapter 286 Strange Blue Fire
Wuermu lost his mother when he was born. His adopted father told him that he found him next to a charred corpse.

His father told him that it was a curse he was born with that burned his mother to death when he was born.

The name Ulm means "Gift of Burning Pain" in ancient Bedai language.

He wanted to tell Wuermu that the burning curse might one day turn into a gift from God.

As a child, he didn't know what that meant.

It was not until he could remember that the strange flame erupted for the first time.

That night, when he was awakened by the noisy sounds around him, the world in front of him was covered by endless blue and white flames.

What followed was endless pain and the adoptive parents' shrill screams.

The shaman in the tribe was awakened by the flames and prayed to the gods to call on the power of water element to try to extinguish the flames.

But the blue-white flame burned everything, and the power of the magic was devoured and strengthened the flame itself the moment it came into contact.

The flames burned his parents and the shaman to death, and only his brother escaped because he lived alone.

Wuermu’s young mind could not remember clearly what happened afterwards. He only heard from his brother that after the disaster, the chieftain expelled them from the tribe.

The brother did not care that he had killed his biological parents. Instead, he tried his best to take care of this adopted brother of his parents.

In order to avoid the disaster that night, Ah Xiong and he continued to experiment, trying to find the pattern of the flame explosion.

Later, they discovered that as long as they paid "tribute" to that terrible power, everything would be fine.

It’s just that the “tribute” is precious, and most of the time, it is Wuermu who uses his willpower to prevent the outbreak of flames.

Drinking large amounts of water to try to suppress the imaginary flames was a measure he had to take in order to strengthen his own psychological suggestion.

"Baby, what's wrong with you, baby!"

Wuermu, who was trapped in the illusion of memory, woke up. He endured the pain and opened his eyes. Through the blue and white flames, he saw the old man who was trying to get close to him.

"Get away from me!"

Wuermu was in panic, fearing that his curse would kill innocent people again. He struggled desperately and rolled on the ground, trying to avoid the old man.

"That's enough, human, don't go near him." The thunderous voice helped Urumu fulfill his wish, and the boy breathed a sigh of relief.

"What's wrong with this kid?" Old Akbar had to stand where he was, looking worriedly at the boy struggling in pain.

This is horrifying. This kid must have been burned to death. Aren’t silver dragons said to be the kindest dragons? How could they watch such a young child being burned to death?
Old Akbar secretly complained in his heart.

Nemesis did not notice old Akbar's resentment. He was looking at the boy with a serious and focused face.

"What kind of power is this?" Nemesis looked confused and surprised.

His eyesight was naturally sharper than that of old Akbar, and although the blue-white flames seemed to torture the boy, they did not pose any fatal threat to him.

Even in his arcane vision, he could see that the boy's body was changing little by little, becoming more adapted to magic and to that strange flame.

"No. Ahhhhhhhh!" After letting out a violent scream, the boy finally couldn't bear it and passed out.

Nemesis shook his head. Although the fire did not cause any physical harm to the boy, for such a young human to experience such pain would probably lead to mental paralysis.

In other words, he was demented by the pain. He tried to call upon the power of frost, but the frost that spread across the sand failed before it even reached the boy.

The frost mist began to boil three steps away from the boy, and the sound of the cold current being devoured by the flames was like thousands of glass scorpions gnawing at the moonlight. Then, the flames burned more vigorously as if they had obtained fuel.

Nemesis' eyes widened in shock and anger. The flames actually devoured the magic power that constituted the spell!

His magic went out of control the moment it came into contact with the flames! Even a learned man like the Tome Dragon had never heard of such power.

Fortunately, after consuming the magic power, the flame seemed to be calmed down and shrank back into the boy's body. Not a single spark was left, and even the boy's clothes were intact.

It was as if everything that just happened was an illusion.

Nemesis walked quickly to the boy and looked him up and down with a serious expression.

No problem, no problem seen.

Nemesis' arcane vision did not detect any trace of strange magic power in the boy's body.

But that’s the weirdest part.

The boy's body was like a black hole, constantly absorbing the magical power from the outside world, but eventually disappeared without a trace.

"Oh, poor kid, how could he suffer such a suffering?" Old Akbar ran to the boy, held him in his arms and carefully checked the boy's vital signs.

The boy's wrists were exposed, and one could see several fiery red lines crawling all over his arms, extending to somewhere unknown inside his clothes.
-
In the southeastern part of the Anauroch Desert, at the junction of the "Black Desert" and the "Great Sand Sea", deep in the Iron Jaw Fortress.

When the gear gate of the Iron Jaw Fortress roared open, the first thing the moonlight illuminated was the cold metallic light of the man's right arm - that was not an ordinary mechanical prosthesis, but a Naiser relic flowing with dark blue energy.

Dark purple veins pulsated on the metal surface, as if the entire arm was sealed with angry thunderclouds. When he took a step, the hum of gears meshed together, and the desert heat twisted and steamed on the lava-like scar on his left face.

His right eye still retained the amber pupil of a human, like a dusty sulfur gemstone. The hourglass-shaped artificial eye in his left eye socket was looking at an extremely complex ancient machine in front of him, and tiny Nether runes flickered on the surface of the vitreous body.

When he grinned, there was a gleam of metal between his jagged teeth - fangs forged from the armor of the defeated, and the Ouroboros emblem of the Zhentarim was branded on his tongue.

His breathing had an uncoordinated rhythm: three short, human gasps, followed by a hiss of steam decompression, like the last guttural sound of a dying lizard.

When the metal index finger of the man's power glove tapped his thigh unconsciously, all the slaves in the shadow of the fortress would tremble all over - the regular ticking sound was the rhythm of the countdown to the execution.

"Has that thing appeared again?" An extremely cold voice came from the man's throat.

In the shadows behind him, a wizard covered in a black robe replied in a calm voice: "To the northwest of the fortress, the Naiser instrument detected the guy's energy fluctuations."

The man clenched his fists, a fierce look flashed in his eyes. "That monster has ruined too many of our opportunities over the years. Tell them to investigate and find out what happened there. I don't care how precious the prophecy scroll is, I want the answer!"

"Yes." The mage retreated into the shadows.

The man stood up and walked towards the shabby ancient instrument. The holy emblem of Mystra could be vaguely seen printed on it.

"The only God who knows everything, I will definitely complete your mission."

The man took out a badge and placed it reverently on his chest. A pattern of a jawless skull was faintly revealed at his fingertips, suspended in the purple mist.

That is the holy emblem of Cyric, the Prince of Lies.

(End of this chapter)