Reincarnated Lord: I can upgrade everything! - Chapter 284

Chapter 284: Crimson Sky
Lord Winter tapped his staff against the ground, his smile never faltering.

“You came out from the spirit world much stronger than you were before entering it… You’re one step closer to the peak of your profession.”

His words shifted the conversation from the previous topic.

Asher frowned slightly. Quite clearly, he was astonished that Lord Winter had seen through him.

“Even the beast behind us has some unique traits as well. Nether Flames and Fiery Crimson Eyes—both formidable abilities.”

Asher glanced at Sirius.

“Those crimson eyes of his allow him to see as far as 62 miles—more if he’s on high ground—and it’s as clear as you and I stand before him now. On the other hand, his flames have mutated into nether flames because I don’t believe any mortal being can awaken the nether flames—it can only come from the spirit world.”

Asher raised an eyebrow as he noticed Lord Winter deliberately avoided mentioning what the nether flames could do.

“What exactly can it do?”

Lord Winter glanced at Sirius with a solemn expression. “Thye burn both flesh and spirit. That beast has become too dangerous to exist.”

Asher’s expression darkened. At that moment, he could sense a cold, unfriendly intent in Lord Winter’s gaze toward Sirius—but it vanished in the next moment.

“You felt it, didn’t you?”

Lord Winter chuckled warmly.

Unfortunately, Asher couldn’t smile anymore and Lord Winter wasn’t surprised by the hostility in his eyes.

“Boy, how would you feel if you have a sister and there’s a man who wants her by force?”

“Displeased. Furious. I would kill him for even nurturing such intentions.”

Lord Winter’s smile deepened. “That’s the same way I feel knowing this beast of yours will rid people of another chance in the spirit world. It grants them true death! Isn’t that enough reason to kill it?”

Asher frowned.

“Your talent is too great for me to kill you. If I kill the beast, I’d have to kill you as well—and I don’t want that. Kryos must live. And not just that… Lord Ashbourne must live too.”

Winter faced him with a smile. Asher could tell that he sincerely meant what he said but his guard remained high.

Sensing his wariness, Lord Winter paused. “Besides…”

He turned to face Asher. ” … You can’t do a thing if you decide otherwise, so…”

His left eye glowed. It was akin to staring into a bright light in the desolate depths of the night.

Yellow-orange light flickered and suddenly, Asher found himself staring at a vast, burning field. A massive tree was burning in the center, its branches, leaves, and trunk untouched by the inferno consuming it.

Then, just as suddenly, he found himself staring at Lord Winter, who slowly walked away as if nothing had ever happened.

“… you need to stop being so defensive.”

BADUM! BADUM!

His heart pounded, the vibrations spreading to the rest of his body. Yet there was a certain chill that enveloped his skin, like a damp, hairy cloth clinging to his flesh.

Goosebumps rose in waves, his entire arms filled with an army of them.

Filled with both awe and dread, Asher had to force words out of his mouth. “You’re an Awoken One!”

“Your first ancestor was among the Awoken Ones who fought during the Dark Age. Howbeit, he is good at masking himself as an imperial-ranked knight.”

Asher felt his world spin.

The Awoken Ones were individuals who had surpassed the peak of their profession and opened up their internal worlds from where they tapped immense power.

Against an Awoken One, an army was meaningless. Hundreds—if not thousands, depending on their rank—could be sent to their deaths in a mere attempt to kill an Awoken one.

Notwithstanding, only those with Zenith Grade talent could ascend to become such frightening powerhouses.

“You look at me with such respect that I’m afraid to tell you.”

“Tell me what?” Asher raised an eyebrow while Lord Winter glanced over his shoulder.

“Your beast isn’t what I’m concerned about… it’s you. No matter their rank, a human’s lifespan is 400 years. But once you exceed the ‘Exalted rank you start to die.”

“What?!”

Lord Winter revealed a bittersweet smile. “You’re already close. A few more ranks and you will reach the Exalted rank. Stop there if you wish to live out your full 400 years. Beyond that threshold, no man is to wield such power… and so, we gradually die.”

Asher fell silent. So they were rising up the ladder of strength only to be killed by it?

What kind of logic was this?

“Look at me. Without the blessings of God, I would have died long before my 290th birthday.”

Lord Winter smiled.

“Who are you exactly? You claim to be a priest of I Am, yet your world is full of flames meant for battle. You are called Lord Winter, but your awakened domain burns like fire. It doesn’t make any sense.”

“Because I am a knight, boy. I became a priest because of the God of that temple… and a lord with this staff…”

“My lord!”

Isaac interrupted with an urgent cry to stop Lord Winter before he could reveal too much.

‘That temple can also change professions!’ Asher’s gaze shifted toward the structure which was far away with growing interest. It had several perks that he didn’t just believe proved I Am was a God that existed—he wanted that temple in Nineveh.

“Captain!”

Upon hearing a call, Asher turned to find they had reached the castle. To his left stood the three hundred paladins, cloaked in their long robes, their broad round shields strapped to their backs, and tall spears—each a head taller than them—planted firmly into the ground.

“We greet the arrival of Achilles!”

Their harmonious voices rang in perfect sync as all of them dropped to one knee, pressing their right hand to their chest and lowering their heads.

“Still assembled,” Asher murmured.

“We were waiting to hear the news of your return from the dead,” Eleazar said with a soft smile.

For some reason, seeing how they were so well-prepared, Asher felt like they knew about his awakening.

“How did you know that I have awoken?”

“Through the sky.”

Asher looked up, his eyes widening as he beheld the ominous crimson clouds overhead.

‘Ithamar!’

He had forgotten his sword.

Suddenly, a puddle made of crimson water almost like actual blood formed at his feet. From it, a sword began to rise.