Mystical Fantasy : The Analogi

Flames split the air.

A towering figure emerged from the red mist. Its body seemed to be cloaked in living magma, with flames licking across its skin. Glowing red eyes stared sharply—filled with hatred and power.

"This creature..." Ravyn muttered from atop a tree branch, her brow furrowed. "...must be a warrior of the Ifrit tribe."

The creature raised its arm, and the air instantly became dry and scorching.

Tendrils of fire coiled around both arms.

Zeo didn't move. He simply stared, calm but alert.

A soft glow flickered in his eyes. Dimensional Sight: active.

Information surged into his mind. The creature was a Djinn from the Ifrit race, a Flame Warrior type. Thirty-six Azzaleth years old, with strength surpassing most common soldiers. Its body held 26,000 Entra, and a Vita of 14,300, making it not only a magical fighter but also a formidable close-range combatant. In addition, it wielded Arma energy of 15,800, allowing it to manipulate magma-based weapons and unleash lava explosions with simple movements.

But what made it truly dangerous wasn't just the numbers—it was the energy composition within. Beyond advanced-level Fire Elemental affinity, it also possessed Helos—the negative energy unique to the Djinn, granting it destructive nature and abnormal endurance.

"Pretty strong," Zeo murmured. "Even stronger than Ravyn. This could get troublesome."

In a blink, the Ifrit warrior lunged.

Without warning, its fist came crashing toward Zeo like a meteor.

BOOM!

Lava exploded midair. But Zeo had already sidestepped, spinning his body to evade, relying on sharp reflexes and honed instincts due to his limited use of magic.

His own fist countered, striking the Ifrit's gut from a blind angle.

BAAAM!

But the creature barely flinched. It was like punching a burning wall of steel.

"Tough," Zeo muttered, retreating.

The Ifrit raised its hand. Fire surged in every direction.

WHOOSH!

A wave of flames burst forward. Zeo twisted his body just in time, though some fire grazed his shoulder.

Thankfully, his magic barrier held, but the heat still seared to the bone.

"That's dangerously hot. I need to end this fast," Zeo thought.

From afar, Ravyn stood ready but didn't intervene. This wasn't her fight. She trusted—and waited.

Zeo exhaled.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

He stepped forward. Slowly. Deliberately. His hand clenched into a fist.

No spells.

No weapons.

Just raw muscle and battlefield mastery.

In a flash, he vanished from normal sight.

Instantly, he was face-to-face with the Ifrit.

"Flick Drive!"

His punch slammed into the creature's chest like a sledgehammer—shockwaves penetrating its magma core, shaking its inner energy structure.

RAAAAGHH!!

The Ifrit roared, staggering. Its body trembled. Fire erupted uncontrollably from its back.

Zeo didn't stop. He leapt into the air, spun, and—

DUAAAAGHHH!!!

A spinning kick smashed into the creature's head. Followed by an elbow to the neck, then a crushing blow to the gut.

Three hits in one second. No spells. No elements. Just raw energy surging through every strike.

Cracks appeared in the Ifrit's chest.

"You're strong. Tough to beat," Zeo said. "But I think this is the end."

He spun low and struck the creature's knee.

CRACK!

The Ifrit collapsed to one knee.

Zeo inhaled deeply.

"Void Pulse."

His right fist landed directly above the Ifrit's flaming heart.

A muted explosion. Not loud. But deep.

The Ifrit's body began to crack. The flames waned. It fell—kneeling, then flat.

Just as Zeo was about to finish it off...

DOOM. DOOM. DOOM.

The ground trembled.

From behind volcanic stone walls, dozens of Ifrit warriors emerged in formation. All wielding fire-forged spears and blades. Their combined aura emitted waves of heat that made the air quiver.

Ravyn leapt beside Zeo. "Master, there are too many of them. Should we retreat?!"

Zeo clenched his jaw. His gaze sharpened.

"You think they'll just let us leave..."

Ravyn grabbed Zeo's arm.

"I'll look for an opening—a surprise attack, then we run!"

Zeo remained silent. Ready.

The Ifrit warriors didn't speak.

They advanced together, red eyes glowing, ready to burn everything that dared enter their territory.

The heat grew more intense.

The Ifrit surrounded Zeo and Ravyn, encircling them. Each step left smoldering footprints.

The air sizzled. Flames ignited at their weapon tips—spears and blades glowing like they had just been pulled from hell.

Ravyn swallowed hard, stepping back behind Zeo. Her breathing quickened.

"Master... I'm starting... to overheat," she whispered weakly.

Her fox-like fur made her overly sensitive to heat. The aura here was far more oppressive to her than to Zeo.

Zeo stood still. Tall, even as his breaths grew heavy. The victory over the earlier guard made the other warriors more cautious—some even clenched their weapons tighter, eyes narrowing.

TAP. TAP.

Heavy footsteps echoed from the village.

An old figure in a black-and-red robe stepped forward. His horns were short, his eyes red-gold. His beard glowed like smoldering embers beneath ash-colored skin.

The Elder of the Ifrit.

His deep voice echoed.

"You dare enter our land... injure our guardian... and damage our territory."

He stared directly at Zeo. "Who are you? What brings you here?"

Zeo said nothing. He only checked to see if Ravyn could still stand.

Ravyn was struggling to breathe. Her eyes watered from the stinging steam.

The tension rose.

Finally, Zeo spoke. His voice calm, cold—yet loud enough for all to hear.

"Human... or Djinn... makes no difference."

His gaze pierced.

"Attack first, ask questions later."

The warriors' eyes flared. Several raised weapons. Metal sizzled.

Ravyn readied herself, Vita surging into her hands.

But the Elder raised a hand—halting them.

"...You're not wrong," he said at last. "But in this land, we don't welcome intruders, especially those who crush our warriors."

Zeo stared back. "We're investigating rumors. That Djinn villages are harboring humans and demi-humans... as slaves, or... energy sources."

Murmurs spread among the warriors. A few scoffed.

The Elder snorted.

"Fools."

He spat on the ground. It hissed.

"The Ifrit draw power from fire energy absorbed from lava zones. We don't touch humans or demi-humans. Their energy taints ours. Besides, they wouldn't survive here."

Zeo didn't react. But Ravyn relaxed slightly.

"So... you don't imprison humans or demi-humans," he said, relieved yet slightly disappointed.

The Elder responded sharply. "Not here. Maybe in other Djinn villages, but we don't feed on weak beings."

Zeo exhaled deeply.

"Then we have no business here. We'll leave."

He turned slowly.

But before he could step outside the circle, the Elder's voice echoed again.

"Do you think you can come and go as you please?"

Zeo paused. Turned.

"Our guardian... lies dying," said the Elder coldly. "And though we know you're strong, you've damaged our land. You owe us a price."

Zeo narrowed his eyes. "We acted in self-defense. Your guard struck first."

"True," the Elder nodded. "But such excuses mean nothing to us. Stepping into this territory alone is offense enough."

He pointed.

"Warriors... capture them."

Around them—flaming spears and molten blades once again pointed at Zeo and Ravyn.

Zeo whispered, "So, this is how it ends."

He glanced at Ravyn. "Ready to fight this time?"

Ravyn nodded slowly, her fur still steaming.

Zeo clenched his fists. The ground trembled beneath his feet. Shockwave energy began to rise around him.

"If you're so eager to judge us unjustly... then try."