Netori: Reborn as the Human Aphrodisiac

"I like your spirit. If you somehow survive this day, know that the Angra Theocracy will always have a place for you," Akamana whispered in Cassandra's ear, then disappeared once more, reappearing in the distance.

But the moment Akamana vanished from her sight, hissing chains came crashing into Cassandra, surrounding her from the front, left and right.

"But I wouldn't bet on that, because my golden girl…seems to have a grudge against you," Akamana said without looking back. And indeed, as Cassandra spread her wings, soaring into the sky, Ishtar appeared right above, her slit draconic eyes staring right into Cassandra, and reducing her physical attributes by a whopping 80%.

Alarmed, Cassandra flew back, leaving trails of scarlet flames as she bolted into the distance. Interestingly, Ishtar didn't give chase, hovering in the air while staring at Cassandra.

Unbeknown to the Astalon matriarch, Ishtar had entered a trance. In that trance, she relieved a favorite dream of hers. A dream where she'd wake up in the morning, sick and bedridden, but with her little brother on the side, watching over and taking care of her with everything he had.

Although a bit silly on the edges, to Ishtar, her little brother was the best person in the world—bringing joy into her life with his every word, and never once resenting her for the burden she'd become.

No one was as good. No one could compare. And each time that she saw her brother's face lighting up at the morning rays, Ishtar would pledge to herself, that one day, she would be the one taking care of him.

But one person ended this.

One person ruined her dream—separating her from her brother for long and painful years.

That woman! Right there with the demonic horns and butterfly wings! It was her!

Ishtar's eyes went bloodshot. The chains surrounding her turned into lilac ribbons, and her mask shattered, revealing her divine looks.

"Im-impossible! H-how…could it be you?" Cassandra couldn't believe her eyes. But as the matriarch's eyes stretched, lilac dragon horns sprouted from Ishtar's forehead, and in a burst of rose-red flames, she appeared above Cassandra, clawing at her face.

A myriad of flaming butterflies emerged from Cassandra's body, forming a screen of searing flames that met Ishtar's blow. But the moment Ishtar's claw collided with Cassandra's flame screen, a pair of large draconic wings emerged from the dragoness' back, adding a burst that let Ishtar blast through Cassandra's flame screen.

A rumbling blast split the two, and Cassandra rolled to the side, a new set of flaming butterflies taking shape as she stabilized in the sky.

'What to do? She's too strong for me to subdue her without injuring her. I can't possibly harm Mithras' sister. He wouldn't…forgive me.' Cassandra's brain became a mess. This wasn't the time to be hesitant. But in this situation, Cassandra truly didn't know what to do.

Ishtar had no such considerations, and with murderous rage, lunged at Cassandra, aiming for her heart. At first, the Astalon matriarch raised her hand, preparing to counter. But the moment next, the look on Mithras' face when he realized he'd lost his sister flashed through her mind, and she lowered her hand, closing her eyes as she lost the will to fight back.

In that instant, Akamana's lips curled up, and as Cassandra expected Ishtar's claw to ram through her chest, the blow never came, interrupted by the appearance of a 1.88-m-tall youth dressed in the holy robes of a Red Envoy.

Just like Ishtar, the youth possessed the slit eyes of the dragon race, and while both their hair and eye colors differed, it only took one glance for the onlooker to realize that the two were siblings.

Cassandra opened her eyes, shocked to see that Mithras had stopped Ishtar's claw with his index alone. Only Akamana and Ishtar herself could see the miniature orb of divine flames at Mithras' fingertips. It was that orb that Ishtar failed to break through. And at first confused by how the newcomer managed to use his Inner Flame in that matter, Ishtar flew back, taking a good look at Mithras' face.

She went livid the moment next. Lowering her hands and staring dumbstruck at her little brother. Lilac chains erupted the moment next, wrapping Ishtar's face, and Akamana appeared before her, facing Mithras instead.

'He's gotten even better. If he doesn't die young, that boy will no doubt become one of the most terrifying gurus in the history of the Spiritual World.' As the most experienced guru on the scene, Akamana understood better than all how horrifying Mithras' control over his Inner Flame really was. The higher the Inner Flame class, the more difficult it was to control.

Divine Flames were especially capricious, making it difficult for century-old gurus to use them without injuring themselves or causing disasters. But Mithras not only mastered the use of the Red, Dark, and White Flames, he could manipulate their structure and alternate seamlessly. Even showing hints of being able to fuse them.

Gurus typically focused on Sid Manipulation, but at the highest level, Flame Manipulation was more valuable. Just that it was so much more complex, especially for higher-class flames, that most progressed like tortoises.

But maybe because of his unique upbringing and Balmarian lineage, Mithras had already reached a level that surpassed the likes of Elektra in terms of pure Flame Manipulation skills.

After all, since he was nine, he'd been using his divine flames to help Cassandra improve her Sid rank and constitution. That was usually the job of senior and elder gurus. Like what Elektra did for her niece, Celestia. Or Akamana for Ishtar. Mithras had been doing the same since he was nine, showing a monstrous affinity for Flame Manipulation.

But it wasn't just the Inner Flames. Even the speed at which he got accustomed to the Divine Secrets' subtleties went against common sense, making Akamana realize that she'd underestimated the youth's potential.

But while all eyes now locked on Mithras, he ignored them, closing his eyes and joining his hands in a prayer sign.

"Mithras…" Cassandra whispered, but Mithras stayed silent. The moment next, the three components of the Wrathful God Fire, the Red, Dark, and White Flame, all erupted from Mithras at once, coiling up his form in a blaze of chaotic flames.

Divine flames lit up both Elektra and Cassandra's forms, fueling their powers while healing their injuries. Elektra arose from her torpor here, in a daze staring at Mithras' coiling divine flames.

At first fully distinct, the Red, Dark, and White Flames started overlapping, meshing under Mithras' control.

"Impossible!" Watching the three flames fusing into one, Akamana's eyes stretched for the first time, and the smile on her face vanished—replaced by a dumbstruck look.

Mithras' thought process was simple. Today, he had to be the strongest version of himself. The strongest he'd ever been. It was that simple. But how to become stronger? What could he do now to make sure he'd be several times stronger than he was yesterday?

Well actually, there was a lot. He could release the true power of the Wrathful God Fire for starters.

In Mithras' hands, the Pyrogasmic Genesis and Wrathful God Fire were at about the same level in terms of power boost and destructive abilities. But according to the legends, the Wrathful God Fire was the most powerful divine flame in existence, made for and granted to the Wrathful Gods by the Lord himself. So why then was it limited to that level in Mithras' hands?

Because he had not released its true form! And how to release its true form? By fusing the three flames into one organic whole!

So that's exactly what he'd do!

A strident dragon roar reverberated throughout the royal palace, and in that instant, the divine flames Mithras had blessed the comatose Vel'Asha with took a violet shade. The same thing for the flames he'd granted Cassandra and Elektra.

Akamana's face twisted in confusion. The 300 Zealots stopped beating their drums, their legs trembling as they dropped their instruments. And to the audience's shock, Mithras' three flames fused into a new set of violet flames—becoming a dazzling pillar that soared towards the sky.

In that instant, Elektra remembered a lesson she once received from her teacher, Vel'Asha—shaking from head to toe.

'There is no such thing as an Inner Flame that splits into independent parts. The reason the Wrathful God Fire has that weird habit of splitting into a Red, Dark and White Flame is simply because the Wrathful Gods are stingy and refuse to give their devotees or descendants the complete package that they received from the Lord.

They give the Red Flame to their favored devotees. The most faithful and beloved devotee might also get the Dark Flame. But the White Flame is reserved for those who share the Wrathful God's blood.

In truth, all three are fake. The Wrathful God Fire only has one form, the one that only the Wrathful Gods have access to: the Violet Flame.

Received straight from the Lord….it is reserved for the Wrathful God themselves. So, if you one day face the Violet Flame…know that you are facing…a Wrathful God.' The memory ended here, and as Elektra's jaw dropped in disbelief, Mithras stepped forward, causing the earth to shake as if an ancient beast now walked through the royal palace.

"Grand Priestess Akamana, what would you say about playing with me the same game you played with Elektra? I'm curious to find out how I'd fare under those rules." Mithras said with an impish smile and clenched his fists, surrounding them in the Pyrogasmic Genesis.

His sclera turned black, highlighting the violet flames that now burned in his eyes.

"Though I'd understand…if you don't dare."