SUPREME ARCH-MAGUS

High above the charred ridge of the Fire Mountain…

The suffocating coils of the sacred Nagastra pulsed around Kent like venomous vines, holding him captive in mid-air.

The poison mist had thinned, but the mountain still trembled beneath the sheer pressure of the Naga Ancestor’s divine presence.

The colossal serpent had long since shifted into his humanoid form—an ancient god cloaked in molten scales and towering arrogance. His crimson jewel pulsed like a second heart in the center of his brow, and his eyes, deep like obsidian wells, gleamed with disdainful amusement as he slowly circled the bound youth.

“You dared pluck flowers from my neck,” the Naga Ancestor murmured with a sinister smile, “and now you plead for your life?”

Kent, though his body ached and his meridians throbbed from the earlier skirmish, raised his head calmly. His lips, dry and cracked from the heat, parted with steady resolve.

“Spare my life,” Kent said, his voice echoing faintly over the wind, “and I will do you a favor in return.”

The Naga stilled. Then, he threw his head back and laughed—a sound so ancient and thunderous that it caused birds to scatter from distant peaks and loose stones to tumble down the fire-ravaged cliffs.

“A favor?” the Naga mocked, the ends of his black serpent-hair twisting like flames behind him. “You—a mortal insect barely out of your shell—offer a favor to me? To a Supreme Being whose poison can dissolve the bones of heaven?”

Kent didn’t flinch. “But your poison failed to leave a scratch on me. It is proof of my potential. So spare my life in exchange for a favor.”

“What is that damn favor you are boasting about? Are you going to offer wealth? Pfft… Hahaha…” The Naga ancestor laughed with a mocking look.

“I can heal your neck.” Kent replied while staring into the burning eyes of Naga ancestor.

“Fool,” the Naga sneered, stepping closer. “What could you possibly offer that the entire Celestial Healer’s Guild, the Abyss Alchemists, and two poison saints could not?”

“Do not underestimate me because of my appearance. I can heal more complex wounds than yours. Try me once… I can easily heal your wound like a scratch.” Kent said confidently.

The air grew heavy again.

The Naga’s expression turned to stone. Slowly, he reached up to touch the thick, jagged wound that ran from his left collarbone to the base of his hood—an old, ugly gash that even his divine scales hadn’t regrown over. His fingers brushed the twisted flesh before curling into a fist.

The Naga ancestor was staring at Kent in confusion. He is in great dilemma whether to believe the words of Kent or not. Several powerful healers failed to numb the pain, forget about healing. That’s why he is hesitant to believe Kent.

“That wound,” Kent continued, “was not caused by poison, nor by internal damage. It was made by a being of equal strength… the Garuda Beast, wasn’t it? The silver claw technique—it left a radiant burn mixed with spiritual slicing force. It corrupted the regenerative core of your hood and disrupted your inner coiling qi flow.”

The Naga went completely still.

“How do you know this?” he asked, voice low and dangerous.

Kent swallowed but held his ground. “Because your scales are reacting defensively to divine Garuda energy still lingering inside. That’s why you’ve been in slumber—not resting, but suppressing the backlash. You survived… barely. You fled to this volcano to absorb its fire poison to suppress the inner chaos. That claw didn’t just wound you—it scarred your pride.”

The wind shifted. The sky darkened again, as if the heavens themselves hesitated to breathe.

“Enough,” the Naga snapped, though his voice trembled faintly. “You dare speak of that day?”

“I do, you can’t hide things by not talking about it… Also you won’t gain anything from killing an ant like me. But if you let me live—if I survive and grow strong—I might one day remember this favor. And perhaps… repay it in a way no one else can.”

The Naga stared at Kent for a long, tense moment, his jewel pulsing irregularly as if his ancient heart were caught between pride and reason.

At last, he whispered, “You gamble with your life, human. But if you fail, your death will be cruel. I will make you experience hell before killing you… so, would you dare to gamble your fate?”

“I’ve already decided,” Kent said.

The Naga turned, stepping back toward the peak where the poisoned lotus wind still drifted. His tail coiled once around the scorched ground. Then he stopped and looked back over his shoulder.

“Very well,” he said, his voice resounding like the toll of a bronze bell. “I will allow this foolish wager.”

With a flick of his clawed fingers, the Nagasthra bindings dissolved. Kent dropped gently onto the blackened stone below, his knees buckling for a breath before he steadied himself.

“But,” the Naga continued, stepping close again, “this mountain still remembers your crime. The Golden Poison Flowers you plucked are not herbs—they are my spiritual nerves. My pain gave them form. You’ve harvested my essence.”

Kent nodded. “Then I’ll return a favor with a favor.”

“You have one chance,” the Naga said sharply, his molten eyes narrowing. “Heal me—and I will spare your life. Fail… and not even your ashes will remain.”

As the poison mist receded fully, Kent bowed low, not out of fear, but respect. “Then prepare yourself. I will begin.”

High on a nearby ridge, Elder Jill’s fists clenched at the sight. “He’s bargaining with a Primordial Naga Ancestor,” she muttered, her voice shaking with awe and disbelief. “Not fleeing, not groveling—but wagering his life.”

Guards stationed across the lower valley were still frozen in shock. One of them, trembling, looked down at the red jade recording tool he clutched.

“He’s not human,” the young mage whispered. “He’s… something else. Something dangerous.”

The red jewel on the Naga Ancestor’s forehead continued to glow, but now, it pulsed with a slower rhythm. Like anticipation. Like hope. Fear?!

–

Tq 😉

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