Mr. Death in the Steam World

Sure enough, the crack that Arthur had cleaved was closing at a visible speed.

The rubble reattached to the wound, and with the light of the runes flowing, in just a few breaths, only a faint mark remained.

"This thing has a core." Emily's voice suddenly rose a few decibels.

"I see it! Below its left shoulder, the magical energy is most concentrated there; that must be the core driving its actions!"

"Down from the left shoulder," Arthur repeated. "Manro, are you sure?"

"Although my combat skills are lacking, I would never misjudge the core of a mechanism or magic array!"

The stone figure seemed to sense Emily's spying. It turned around and took another step toward Emily.

But this time, Moen was already waiting on its way.

He infused a wisp of magic into the quill at his waist, and the small wings at the end of the quill immediately stood up.

He gently waved his hand towards the left side of the stone man, and an invisible force pulled his body to move several meters to the side, landing him just outside the attack range of the stone man's left arm.

Immediately afterwards, he fired his revolver again, imbuing the bullet with magic, making the bullet's speed extremely high.

Almost all six bullets hit the same spot.

A fist-sized dent appeared on the left shoulder of the stone figure.

Through the pit, you can see a dark red light flickering inside, like a flame compressed to its limit.

"That's it." Arthur took a deep breath and placed his left palm on the sword.

A golden magic circle suddenly lit up the ground beneath his feet, and he then engaged in a fierce battle with the stone golem.

Moen reloaded his ammunition and scanned the cavern's surroundings.

Fils was leaning against a stalactite column, her hand covering her forehead.

Her face was frighteningly pale, and her forehead was covered in cold sweat.

"Miss Ignis!" Moen rushed to her side. "What's wrong?"

"It feels like my head is about to split open..." Phils's voice was very weak.

With Moen looking after Phils, Arthur suddenly felt a lot more pressure.

Fortunately, with Emily's instructions, he managed to defeat the stone golem with just his sword.

The stone man let out a low roar, and his body shattered, leaving behind only a black and red crystal that emitted a dangerous luster.

He casually put the crystal into his pocket and hurriedly came over to check on Phils's condition.

However, at the very moment the stone figure shattered, the flame flower on the back of Phils's hand bloomed even more vividly.

Phils let out a soft groan and completely fainted.

Everyone was extremely anxious, and having exhausted all means to revive Fils, they could not stay there. Helpless, they had no choice but to take her back first.

At the same time, Phils opened her eyes groggily.

"Am I...in the ruins? Where am I?"

She subconsciously looked around, only to find herself in a completely unfamiliar scene.

She was standing inside a huge temple.

In the very center of the temple, a cluster of flames burned silently in the void.

The flame wasn't large, only about a meter tall, but it was brighter than any bonfire in the world.

Phils looked down and discovered that her body was translucent.

She tried to invoke magic, but the magic circuits were empty; there was nothing there.

Could it be that she is now in the legendary spirit state?

Before she could even react, a booming voice resounded throughout the entire temple.

Phils instinctively covered her ears, but the sound still clearly entered her consciousness.

The cluster of floating flames in the very center of the temple began to expand, eventually forming a giant.

Facial features, limbs, torso, and a head of long, fiery hair cascading down like a waterfall.

Phils tried to make out the giant's face, but soon felt dizzy.

"Mortals must not look directly at the gods; remember this."

Her father's words echoed in her ears, and Phils suddenly understood the presence before her.

Even if it wasn't a god, it was something she couldn't possibly resist.

At the same time, two other figures suddenly appeared beside her.

The two figures, like her, were in a semi-transparent spiritual state, their outlines clearly visible, but their faces were shrouded in an invisible mist, making it impossible to discern their features no matter how hard they tried.

Judging from their figures, they appear to be a man and a woman.

The woman appeared much more disheveled than Phils, and looked very nervous.

The man's reaction was completely different.

He staggered for only one step before quickly regaining his balance, then straightened his back and calmly patted off non-existent dust from his robes.

"Hello, ladies." His voice was young and had a certain accent.

"Although we have never met, the fact that we are here means that there must be a destiny connecting us."

"May I ask your names?"

Where did this ordinary guy come from...?

Fils was speechless and did not answer the other party's question.

However, judging from the accent, the other person seems to be from the north.

The woman hesitated and took a step back, equally disliking the man.

The man seemed to want to say something more, but his words were cut off by the giant's.

"My successors shall inherit my strength, ignite my fire, and uphold my way."

The moment He spoke, it seemed as if He was the only one left in the world, forcing everyone to focus their attention on Him.

Phils felt her spirit trembling uncontrollably.

"I am Hesfield, Lord of Fire, God of Hearth, Ender of Winter."

The giant's voice echoed throughout the temple, and flames surged and rose with his words, casting the three translucent spirits on and off.

Phils's mind went blank.

Hesfield? Hesfield, the god of fire? The Hesfield who is one of the twelve Olympian gods?

She instinctively wanted to back away, but her feet seemed to be nailed to the spot, unable to move an inch.

"Thousands of years ago, I and the gods left this world, but the divine grace has not ceased, and the divine fire has not been extinguished."

Hesfield paused, and his eyes, made of flames, slowly swept over the three of them.

"The three of you are all qualified to bear my flame. You are fortunate to be my candidates."

Candidates? What candidates?

Before Phils could even ask the question, the man beside her spoke up.

"Your Excellency Hesfield," he stepped forward, knelt on one knee, and placed his right hand on his chest, the movement fluid and graceful.

"It is my greatest honor to have your favor. May I ask, sir, what is required of the candidate?"

Phil couldn't help but glance at him. Although she couldn't see his face clearly, she felt that the confidence emanating from him was so strong that it made her uncomfortable.

Hesfield did not answer the man's question, or rather, he disdained to answer any one person's question alone.

"I will choose one of you to act on my behalf."