[LSB] Chapter 130: A Powerful Figure

There was nothing else Julian could hear but the pain. And it was… strange.

He had felt pain before—he had been wounded, battered, broken. But this was different. This was the first time his mind could think of nothing else but the sensation of his flesh being peeled away, layer by layer… by layer.

It consumed him.

The Avatar of Exhalia claimed her only domain was Artemia itself. But then why did it feel like he wasn’t in Artemia anymore? Why did this trial feel like another plane of existence entirely?

And maybe it was—because he could feel MEGAN’s pain, too. And worse… he knew she could feel his.

They had always been connected. Since the moment MEGAN came into his life, a thread had been woven between them. That connection only deepened when she accidentally merged with the Avatar of Helionis, and could join him in the world of Artemia. And yet…

The closer they became, the more distant she felt. The more she disappeared into the shadows.

 He relied on her less and less, spoke to her less and less. Slowly, her role as Julian’s guide and guardian faded into obscurity.

He let her fade into the background while the world grew louder and larger around him.

Of course, it wasn’t because she became unimportant, or was that he no longer needed her, but because he wanted her to live. To have her own autonomy. Her own voice. Her own place, unshackled from the role of his guardian.

He thought it was a gift.

But now… he could hear her thoughts. Feel them as if they were his own. And what he heard broke him more than the pain ever could.

Useless. Forgotten. He doesn’t need me anymore. I don’t matter.

No. These weren’t his thoughts. He would never think that. Not about MEGAN.

Even now—especially now—he depended on her. He valued her. She was still one of the most important parts of his life.

Why couldn’t she see that? Why did she think she’d been left behind when all he wanted was to set her free?

This pain, this suffocating anguish, was hers.

And so, despite the torment still tearing silently through his lungs and echoing through his bones, Julian reached for her trembling, flickering light—held her close, close to his chest.

“MEGAN,” he whispered through clenched teeth as he called for her, “I love you, okay? I… I still don’t fully understand what that means—but Ellie and I… you’re important to us. I never want you to forget that.”

“J-Jul… Julian…” MEGAN’s tiny form curled tighter into his palm, pressing herself into his chest as if trying to disappear inside him. Her voice cracked, trembling. “You… you really need more therapy.”

Julian almost sighed. Even now, she tried to bury her feelings in sarcasm.

But he could feel them—her emotions, raw and real.

Anguish. Joy. Love. Loneliness. Regret. Devotion. A storm of feelings he had experienced before… but never quite understood by himself. MEGAN was more human than he could ever be.

And in this moment, he saw them clearly—felt them completely. It was overwhelming. It was beautiful.

“Thank you, MEGAN…” he murmured.

And with those words, the pain vanished. Shattered. Gone.

What remained was her warmth.

Not just because her body was the avatar of Helionis. Not because of the flames that danced around her, no. Julian felt it for the very first time, MEGAN’s true warmth.

And in that moment, it was all he could feel.

Her expression also began to soften. The trembling figure clutched against his chest no longer shook in fear or agony. Her cheek pressed gently against his skin, not from pain… but comfort.

But even so, Julian’s trial was not actually over. The pain still remained. It was still there. It seared through him, as brutal and real as ever. He just… chose not to hear it. Instead, he listened to MEGAN. To her memories. Her feelings. Her soul.

“Oh?” The Avatar of Exhalia lifted a finger to her lips, her eyes narrowing slightly in intrigue as she noticed the change. Julian’s body still trembled—wracked with pain—but the look on his face had shifted.

There was no fear. No agony. Only… peace.

She crouched beside him once more, noting the quiet smile now lingering on MEGAN’s face as well—small, faint… but there.

They were both still in pain. Their bodies writhed, their nerves screamed. But their spirits? Unbroken.

“That’s it, Shadow Blacksmith,” the Avatar of Exhalia whispered.

She placed her hand on his naked shoulder, brushing across it before cradling him gently in her arms. Her fingers moved slowly through his hair, pulling him closer into the warmth of her chest. And then—

She breathed.

And with that breath, she sang.

There were no words. No lyrics to her song. Only a lullaby.

It wasn’t sung from her lips, but from the planet itself. A song that resonated from the bones of Artemia, a tone older than the very land they stood on.

Juliet, who had been clutching her chest in silent anguish while watching Julian go through the trial, found her breath slowing. The Avatar of Searadyn, still ablaze with protective fire, also dimmed her glow. The air itself hushed.

Exhalia’s voice echoed through the grotto, through the stone, through the veins of Artemia itself. She was the first breath of the world—and this was the world’s first song.

And though she spoke no words, everyone understood:

Rise. Rise into the light. And let your shadow cradle the world behind you.

A second passed. A minute. Hours.

Hours where neither Juliet nor the Avatar of Searadyn could move. All they could do was watch as Julian endured the trial alone. Juliet wanted to scream. To run to him. To hold him. But all she could do… was clutch her chest and pray.

“Julian…” she whispered, closing her eyes. “Please… please, you can do this.”

And then—a voice answered, soft and motherly.

“Of course he can.” The words came from Exhalia herself.

And when Juliet opened her eyes, she saw him.

Julian Winters.

Standing tall. Breathing steadily. Burning with quiet, boundless strength. His body steaming, and his muscles even sharper than before, pulsing almost.

And etched across the skin of his back, glowing like a divine seal, was the mark—

The Mark of Exhalia. The First Breath.

***

[Congratulations on taming the Avatar of the Breath of the First Flame, Exhalia! Artemia herself has bestowed upon you a bountiful gift of strength in recognition of this achievement.]

[[The Master of Shadows welcomes Exhalia back, and has offered a gift to her.]]

“The Master of Shadows…” Exhalia’s eyes shimmered faintly as the voice of the Guidance echoed. But after only a heartbeat, her expression twisted—her face contorting with sudden fury.

“I accept no gift from you, King Orebus,” she said coldly. “I thank you for returning the Shadow Blacksmith to us, but take your offerings elsewhere. Your steps are a curse to him. You are a curse to him.”

[[The Master of Shadows does not appreciate Exhalia’s ungratefulness.]]

“I don’t know why you’ve returned,” she hissed, her voice trembling with wrath. “But let the Shadow Blacksmith’s rebirth be your only imprint on this world. You have—”

“Stop,” Julian interrupted with a quiet sigh, stepping forward. “I don’t want to be a part of whatever… feud you have with the Master of Shadows. I just want to live a peaceful life as a blacksmith.”

Exhalia blinked, startled and seemingly confused by his words. She turned slowly to the Avatar of Searadyn, who gave only a small, knowing nod.

“I…” Exhalia’s voice softened. For the first time, she seemed unsure. “If that is truly your wish… then we will make it so. Even if only for a moment longer, Shadow Blacksmith.”

“Why do I not like the sound of that…” MEGAN groaned, blinking awake from Julian’s hands. Her voice was still weak, but her suspicion was strong as she pointed at the Avatar of Exhalia.

The Avatar of Exhalia sighed and shook her head, “The fate of the Shadow Blacksmith is intertwined with—”

“Stop,” Julian said again, more firmly.

The Avatar of Exhalia fell silent. But she looked down, her hand resting against her chest.

“Please, young Shadow Blacksmith… just be careful with what the Master of Shadows offers,” she murmured. “His gifts always come with a price.”

Julian didn’t respond right away. He turned his shoulder slightly toward her, the Mark of Exhalia still glowing faintly on his back.

“Thank you,” he hummed.

“Of course, Shadow Blacksmith,” Exhalia bowed deeply. But before she could raise her head, MEGAN used whatever strength she had to zip in front of her, pointing a finger at her again.

“Why are you still completely naked!?” She shouted.

Exhalia glanced down at herself without shame, then gently trailed her fingers along her waist with a faint smile.

“Well,” she said, almost teasing, “Why would I cover something so beautiful, Deviant?”

She chuckled lightly and stepped toward Julian again, wrapping her arms around him from behind, bare skin pressing to his.

“Wha—!?” Juliet snapped back as soon as she saw what she did. MEGAN's body flared with sparks of fire, ready to retaliate. But before either of them could move, Exhalia’s form began to fade.

Her chest was the first to dissolve into mist, and then the rest of her body followed. And as her face began to fade, Exhalia smiled and whispered,

“I am truly glad to be by your side again, Shadow Blacksmith.”

With those final words, her form vanished completely, transformed into vapor that swirled and flowed into the glowing mark now etched across Julian’s back. But as she disappeared into him, something remained behind. A glowing core materialized in the air, gently dropping to the ground at the back of his feet.

[You came here for this, did you not?] Exhalia’s voice echoed softly in Julian’s mind. [I look forward to seeing what you create with it, Shadow Blacksmith.]

Julian let out a low hum as he picked up the core, his muscles subtly tensing as the Mark of Exhalia pulsed faintly on his back, amplifying his muscles.

“Why…” MEGAN muttered, narrowing her eyes at the tattoo on Julian’s back, “Why is her tattoo so big!? I mean, okay, Sears I get—yours is just on the back of his hand, that’s fine. But mine’s on his chest! I could’ve covered the whole thing! Hers doesn’t even have style—it’s just vandalism! Have you seen mine!?”

“The size of the Mark is not a symbol of our devotion to Master, Silvie,” the Avatar of Searadyn replied, calmly shaking her head as her body shrank into a wisp of flame. And before she completely dived into Julian’s hand, she said with a quiet breath:

“But it is a sign of the difference between our strengths.”

MEGAN opened her mouth to argue, but Searadyn wasn’t finished.

[She is claiming your bed, Silvie.]

“Wait—what!?” MEGAN shot straight back into Julian’s chest without anymore words. And Julian could only sigh as her voice exploded inside his mind.

He shook his head off the voices and finally turned to approach Juliet. But before he could call her, a circular glyph filled with glowing runes burst to life beneath their feet. He didn’t panic, however, as he knew exactly what they were.

Light enveloped them—and in a blink, they were gone. When the light faded, they stood once again at the top of the volcano.

Though… to call it a volcano now would be inaccurate. It had been transformed.

The crater, once scorched, was now filled with clear water. Lush plants had begun to sprout and encircle the rim, and mist rolled gently over the surface of the newborn lake. It was no longer a scar on the land, but a sanctuary.

Julian lingered at the edge for a moment, taking it in, before quietly walking toward Juliet again.

"Should we go, then?"

"Huh?" Juliet blinked a few times, still struggling to process what had just happened. Had she really witnessed it? The events that unfolded before her—did they truly take place?

She had just seen someone, her mentor, make a contract with the avatar of a primordial spirit. That—that shouldn’t happen. She had seen so many things with Julian, but that was something that should never have happened.

It was something that was beyond comprehension. Something the greatest archmages of Artemia could only dream of achieving, often spending their entire lives trying and still failing.

So… why Julian?

“Boss…” she muttered, “You do realize you might have just become… one of the most powerful people in all of Artemia, right?”

“I have?” Julian only hummed in response, his gaze lifting toward the horizon.

Far below, the creatures and beasts that once gathered at the base of the volcano had begun to disperse. None of them still attacked each other, but Julian could feel a sense of hostility within them. There was also something else—Dodona’s temperature… was rising. Slowly, subtly, but undeniably happening.

But shouldn’t it be colder, now that the Avatar of Exhalia was no longer sealed within the volcano? Or perhaps the old stories were true. Dodona had become a tundra not because of the flame, but in order to contain the volcano. A correction. And now, with Exhalia unsealed and gone, the land no longer needed the endless, deathly chill.

And soon, snow fell.

A single flake landed on Julian’s bare shoulder.

“Hmm?” He opened his palm, glancing up into the sky, now blanketed by soft, falling white.

Juliet gasped softly as another snowflake landed on her nose, snapping her out of her lingering daze. She turned her head slowly, eyes widening as she saw Dodona’s mist rolling away, peeling back to reveal the grass and earth that had long been hidden beneath the frost.

“This is…” she whispered in awe. “This is… beautiful.”

“Hmm.” Julian stood beside her, the Mark of Exhalia glowing faintly on his back.

Juliet glanced at him, then at the snow, then back at him again. Her eyes lingered for a second longer than she intended.

"Uh. Can… can you put something on, Boss?"

“Hmm? Oh.”

***

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Lol. Everything's so casual with Julian. The definition of a chill guy. Please do holler if you notice any mistakes!