The ifrit was too big to fight.

They said that the bigger things were, the harder they fell, but those people had probably never fought a humongous, angry, fire-belching monstrous genie. Fighting someone with an advantage in size, weight, and reach was difficult, and that wasn’t counting the fact that it could magically reform after being beaten into an amorphous pulp.

The moment the ifrit had changed its appearance into this thing, Lukas knew the altercation had shifted from a fight between opponents to a Tom and Jerry cartoon.

Lukas considered his options. Soul Siphon would react badly to something with a negative soul capacity, and binding this monster to himself would require sacrificing his own soul capacity. Not that he minded, but repeating his earlier performance with the khorkhoi wasn’t something he was looking forward to. Last time, Inanna had been there to snap off his consciousness when the khorkhoi’s insanity overwhelmed him. This time, however…

His thoughts then went to Tanya.

No. Bad idea.

Everfrost could probably restrain it, but it would either suck the life out of it or face direct resistance from the ifrit’s fire ability. He could picture it vividly — losing control and unleashing too much of the destructive fire from his hands and nose and throat, all the while screaming his lungs out as his insides burned.

He closed his eyes for a moment and dismissed such thoughts. That wasn’t what he needed right now. He needed a way to bring down this beast and put a permanent stop to its antics, before the rumbling clouds above decided to gift him with another bolt of lightning.

“Having second thoughts?” he heard Tanya say. Despite her teasing tone, the tension in her voice was palpable.

She knew what he was thinking. And she knew that he knew that she knew it.

“You wish,” Lukas grinned. Then, punched the ground with a burst of lifeforce, propelling himself into the sky.

Tanya had seen her share of pyromancers in her time as an adventurer. Being a spiritist often meant getting attuned to their element, both physically and spiritually. And fire, in general, tended to affect emotions on a wide berth, turning most pyromancers into a gaggle of raving, bloodthirsty lunatics. Six out of ten criminals among the spiritist population turned out to be flame-spiritists, their over-indulgence of the Fire element making their negative emotions run rampant.

And ifrits were creatures of fire.

But, as experienced as she was, even Tanya could tell that this ifrit was well above the average. She had heard tales of how the spirits had escaped to Muspelheim during the days of the Time Before. A time when Amaterasu was merely an Empress, and the Eternal Light of the Empire was limited to being a corona around her when she displayed her power. She’d heard of the mythological giant the jotuns called Surtur, and the rumors about him actually being Kagutsuchi, a God among kami, an ifrit that had gained its own Truth and rose to claim Emperor-class on its own.

The ifrit in front of them was no Kagutsuchi, but it wasn’t anything to scoff at either.

Tanya observed with wary eyes as torrents of fire came at her partner like waves crashing against a sea shore. It would be of no avail. With incredible speed and dexterity, Lukas was literally jumping around, accelerating himself one moment and halting the next without thought. Self-acceleration was possible with lifeforce, but to be in such command?

That was something else.

Just how was he able to pull off so many miracles?

The ifrit let out a huge, rumbling sound and sent a lasso of flames at Lukas, seeking to devour him, only for it to explode mid-way as it encountered something raw and invisible. The fires around the beast recoiled, twisted into miniature cyclones that came lashing at him, the heated air within them trying to suck him in, but Lukas seemed one step ahead of them. It was like he knew where they’d be before they were there. Battle precognition? She wouldn’t put it past him. For someone who kept stressing he was training to be a diplomat, the Outsider had a large arsenal of skills that simply made no sense.

A part of her wanted to try putting him under a thrall, just to see if she could extract the truth. Make him show his real self.

But the more rational part of her emphasized how poor of an idea that was. It was a part of her that was attracted to him for reasons she couldn’t fathom. She enjoyed his presence, his witty commentary, his going-out-of-the-way to fuck with Olfric, his wild, independent streak even when being pressed by authority, the way he made her scream—

She flushed. The fires, she told herself. Now was no time to be distracted. Focus on the fires.

“It is obvious he is out of his league,” Mori commented from the side. “Tell me, is this truly the first time the Outsider is facing a spiritual creature in combat?”

Tanya made a rough grunt of acknowledgement. “He has fought me before, as well as an Earth-shaper.”

“I did not say elemental. I said spiritual.”

Tanya bobbed her head.

“Back at the Keep,” Mori went on, “you described him as being a flame-spiritist. Yet he has since displayed ground-manipulation, enhanced physical strength, and the ability to mold mana. Even now, I do not see him wielding fire.”

“He… has a wide arsenal of skills,” she replied. “But he can’t use them in conjunction. Plus, some of his abilities seem to stress his physical and mental state.”

She recalled the mad berserker she’d faced in the underground anomaly. Overwhelming strength with a predatory mindset barely hanging to shreds of sanity. When he had shifted into that fire-wielder, he had become devastatingly weaker, but had also gained the ability to throw crimson flames like they were going out of fashion. Yet, a simple kinetic blow that was akin to a light pat on the cheek had flung him into the wall.

Lifeforce did not go from large to small like that, nor did mana vanish for periods, only to appear in a wisp and disappear afterwards.

“Then is he an individual with several other individuals within? A cluster of warriors, packed into a single bremetan?”

Tanya frowned. She wouldn’t put it that way. A person that was actually multiple persons, all inhabiting the same body? That was absurd. And yet…

She considered the frost lining her fingernails.

Maybe we aren’t that different after all. Could that be why—

“I don’t believe it!” Mori exclaimed, breaking her out of her reverie. “Tell me it is not the Shikigami ritual he is attempting.”

Tanya goggled at the sight. Mori was right. Lukas Aguilar was actually attempting a kami-binding ritual. But how? She hadn’t explained the ritual’s procedure to him. And she was certain he hadn’t gotten to know about it from anyone else.

“Yes. Apparently he is.”

Lukas was running out of options.

The ifrit was being a major pain in the ass, constantly launching fireballs the size of boulders at him. Not a worrisome issue, since he was perfectly capable of escaping out of their trajectory. But it also put him in a stalemate against this monster— none of his attacks could reach it, and his ax could do nothing against an opponent that could reform at will.

He’d gone through his list of prototypes, but even that had yielded nothing. The Kirin’s ability was useful to dodge attacks constantly, but the steed of Winter didn’t have any spectacular skills for long-ranged combat. He could have gone with the Kasha, but something told him that the creature looming above him was more skilled at manipulating flames than he ever could.

Soul Siphon wouldn’t work either.

Which left only one option. To acquire it, just like he had acquired the khorkhoi. An anima ritual, the way Inanna had taught him.

But then, an alternative presented itself in the form of a prototype too simple for him to even consider.

A prototype eerily close to Human, except for one unique thing.

Accessing Monster Prototype — Bremetan

Accessing Skill — Shikigami Bond

Binding a foreign soul to Host Soul by sacrifice of Soul Capacity

The Shikigami Ritual.

He’d heard the bare basics about it from Tanya, but as he accessed the skill, he could now see it. Comprehend it. He knew what it was. It wasn’t the devouring of souls like Inanna’s ritual had been. It wouldn’t absorb the victim’s spirit, gaining their skills as well as a smidgen of their nature. Nor was it the binding he had performed with his little slime-cat.

This was different.

It was a… symbiosis. The sharing of one’s soul cap with another. One that would use it to grow. To become more. Yet the Host and the Symbiont would remain completely independent.

It was a bond that allowed a kami access to the soul cap he needed. A bond that allowed a bremetan— a creature of lifeforce— to wield the elemental powers of his bonded kami.

Zuken and Avriel.

Bergott and Meciel.

Tanya and Ezzeron.

And now…. It’s my turn.

He felt it brimming within him, a hunger that wanted to claim this spiritual being as his own. To master it. To hold complete dominion over it.

And he would.