Chapter 2077 A New Species Of Spirits?

Mark’s eyes widened slightly at Elayne’s quiet confession. The weight of her words hung between them for a moment, soft but heavy.

"T-That would be incredible..." he admitted, voice low. "But isn’t that a little too close to pure wishful thinking? Hoping for something that big without doing anything ourselves... it doesn’t feel healthy. We still have to cultivate our own strength. Ignis is still there, right? A fragment of him, at least. Even if he’s changed so much, the connection between you two hasn’t vanished. And your blacksmithing techniques—if you can slowly recreate the same methods you once used... over time, piece by piece, the way everything else grows... I honestly believe you can reawaken your Status as Hephaestus’ Descendant."

Elayne remained silent for a few seconds. Then she gave a faint nod, her expression softening.

"Thanks," she said quietly. "I guess I just needed to get this off my chest..."

As she spoke, she placed both hands over her chest, the motion causing her ample bosom to shift with a soft bounce. She exhaled, the tension in her shoulders easing a little.

"Now... ah, there’s still so much time left to wait. I wonder, though... about Queen Spectria, or whatever she really is. What’s going on with her?"

Mark tilted his head slightly, thoughtful for a moment. "Hm. I’ve been wondering the same thing. But shouldn’t we just ask him directly? Ignis—where is he right now?"

"He went to sleep inside my Spiritual Heart," Elayne answered. "I’m sure he’ll wake up any time now. I think he’s been... conflicted. About everything that’s been happening lately. Especially the part about his sister not being who he thought she was. From what I can sense, he still carries memories of her as a completely different person. The contrast must be hard for him."

"I see," Mark nodded slowly. "Spectria, huh... If she was confined down here for thousands of years, I probably would’ve gone insane in her place. Maybe all of this—her actions, her attitude—is just her own way of saying she’s tired. Or maybe she was simply bored. Her father might never have given her or her siblings much thought at all. Locking them inside forges, never allowing them to leave, forcing them to wait endlessly for some descendant or heir to finally find them... and then turn them into familiars."

Elayne’s eyes widened a little.

"...Now that you put it like that, it’s really sad!" she admitted. "Oh no... Queen Spectria... But still! That doesn’t justify the slavery!"

"I know," Mark said calmly. "There might be more to the story than we can see right now. Either way, let’s check things out ourselves before we pass any more judgment."

"Hm." Elayne nodded in agreement. Then a small spark of excitement lit her eyes. "And come to think of it... I’ve already reached max level again. I wonder if I can evolve once more and finally get a proper class?"

"Right, you did," Mark replied. "But what about the requirements?"

"Ah... it’s complicated, but I can do it now," she said with a confident little nod. "I got everything I needed from our last hunt, don’t worry~!"

She deliberately left out any mention of the strange glitches she had encountered. Some things were better kept to herself for the time being.

"...Uh, sure. If you say so—"

"Next group in the line, step forward!"

A deep, authoritative voice suddenly cut through their conversation. One of the guards stationed at the gate had called them forward. Elayne gasped softly, startled out of her thoughts. A moment later, Gardenia fluttered over and landed lightly at her side.

"Oh, it’s our turn! Come on, Elayne—snap out of it!" the small spirit urged. "It’s your turn!"

Upon hearing the guard and Gardenia’s voice, everyone looked up to Elayne. "Oh? Ah!" she exlaimed. Elayne blinked, then quickly nodded and started walking toward the guard with a gentle smile. "Yeah, yeah! It’s us, sir! Us!"

She stepped forward, her entire group falling into place behind her. Shade, Sailor, Norman, Dorothy, Mark, Blank, Marble... and even Uncle Asura. It was a sizable party, large enough to draw attention. Security around the city has grown noticeably tighter in recent days. Bandits and thieves had been attempting to slip inside more frequently, all of them hungry for the city’s flames and precious metals.

The guard who had called them forward looked them over carefully.

"Hmm. Quite a big group, huh? And... you’re an Undead?"

The speaker was a massive living armor, nearly twice Mark’s height—the tallest member of their party. Pitch-black plates covered its form, styled like a heavy sentinel. Its arms were enormous, its legs comparatively shorter, and a pair of great black horns swept back from its helmet. Inside the armor, blue flames burned steadily. Two blazing azure eyes glowed from within the shadowed visor, and the voice that emerged was that of an older man—deep, rough, and authoritative.

Elayne stared in open fascination. At first glance it looked exactly like a Living Armor, one of those rare Undead formed when a ghost possessed a full set of armor. But something felt different. The presence radiating from the figure was not that of the restless dead.

"You’re a Spirit!" she said, eyes bright with surprise. "Oh wow... this is incredible! It’s so rare to find spirits here in the Netherworld!"

"Huh?! What—! Keep yourself away from me—Ugh..."

The guard stiffened, clearly flustered. Elayne’s natural aura of pure nature and quiet kindness washed over him almost immediately. Spirits were drawn to her without conscious effort; her Spiritual Heart resonated with them, inviting trust and friendship. Even this strange blue-flamed spirit in armor was not immune.

After a brief moment of visible discomfort, the guard composed himself and spoke more formally.

"We are the Queen’s Guards—her Divine Creations and the Guardians of the Colosseum City. And yes... we are Spirits. Although we were unable to inherit her full divinity, we are still partially divine spirits ourselves. We are commonly known as Blue Fire Spirits."

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