Zerus screamed. Not one of rage—but something much, much deeper.

  Her body convulsed. She trembled violently, thrashing beneath the weight of what was happening to her. The sensation crawling through her wasn’t like pain—it was worse. It was like her bones were being torn apart from the inside out. The black runes that once slithered smoothly across her skin now jerked in sharp, erratic movements. Shadow writhed violently along her body, no longer flowing, but spasming.

  Multiple black-bladed daggers pinned her limbs to the forest floor. Blood seeped from fresh wounds as she fought against her bindings, but there were too many. She was trapped—caught in a makeshift prison of steel and skillwork.

  And then there was Josier. He knelt atop her back, one dagger plunged deep into her shoulder, grinding deep, through skin and muscle.

  She couldn’t move. And because she couldn’t move—she couldn’t stop what was happening.

  Enya’s hand gripped the Bonecarver’s Quill. The tip punctured through Zerus’ leg, a reddened blemish blooming around the wound. Blood welled up, but it wasn’t the only thing that emerged.

  A stream of pale purple-white mist drifted upward.

  Soul-Energy.

  A burst—no, a torrent of energy surged into Enya’s core.

  System Notification: Soul Aspect Detected

  True Name: Zerus Larenune

  Convert to pure Soul Energy?

  [Accept/Decline]

  What?

  Her brows furrowed. That was new. She’d never seen this before. A Soul Aspect? Why now? Why her?

  Enya grit her teeth, struggling to keep the quill embedded as Zerus continued to writhe beneath her. She sent a mental decline to the prompt.

  If converting whatever this “aspect” was, meant destroying it—if it meant something irreversible—then she couldn’t take the risk. Not with Zerus.

  Still… the message meant something important. If the soul being absorbed wasn’t being converted into energy—then that meant it was being pulled in intact. Somehow, the soul itself was welling up inside her like regular energy, not dissolved. Not broken. But still odd.

  Pell dashed up beside her, panting. “Might I say this once and only once—this is very suicidal!” he shouted, pressing both hands against Zerus’ other leg to help hold her still.

  Soul-Energy (Unconverted): 211/400

  Soul Aspects contained: Zerus Larenune (100%)

  “J-Josier!” Enya called out, voice cracking. The power flowing into her—it was intoxicating. Not usable, not in the way she normally tapped into Soul-Energy, but still… it felt like lightning pouring through her veins.

  How did one person contain this much? How did this even work?

  She’d fought enemies like the undead and the spiderlings, but the energy she received—there was never a consistent rule. No pattern. No way to tell who carried plentiful souls and who didn’t.

  So why Zerus? Was it because she was a demon? Or because she wasn’t a monster?

  Everything about her shattered what Enya thought she knew.

  Soul-Energy (Unconverted): 309/400

  Soul Aspects contained: Zerus Larenune (100%)

  Her Soul-Energy Capacity was filling up to its limit. She handled this much energy before when she expanded her soul container—but it was a gradual increase. This felt like a dam that just burst.

  Josier grunted but managed to glance back.

  Enya tried to activate Absolute Focus—but she couldn’t. Not like this. Not with her heart racing and Soul-Energy pouring into her. Not with a thrashing demon beneath her and a system she didn’t fully understand.

  Too much noise. Too much chaos.

  “Josier!” she shouted, voice cracking. “D-do you know any spells that c-cost a lot of mana?!”

  Zerus’ leg kicked out violently, slamming into the forest floor and sending up a spray of dirt. The blast showered all three of them in earth. She was beginning to rise—forcing her way up despite the daggers buried in her arms, her shoulders, her legs. The blades drove deeper, but she didn’t relent.

  Josier cursed under his breath and leaned harder on the dagger stuck in her back, pressing it further through muscle.

  “Yes. I do,” he said through gritted teeth. “But why all of a sudden?”

  Enya spat dirt from her lips, shaking her head clear. Her fingers didn’t budge from the quill. She couldn’t afford to lose grip now.

  “Cast something! But don’t release it—just cancel it at the end!”

  Josier hesitated. “That’ll just waste precious mana—”

  “Just do it! This’ll work! I promise!”

  That was a lie. Even she didn’t know if it would.

  Soul-Energy (Unconverted): 428/400

  Soul Aspects contained: Zerus Larenune (100%)

  She couldn’t remember. There was something crucial. An important detail she had overlooked; something she didn’t consider.

  The system; her necrosmith class had informed her of something in the Spiderling Cave. About expanding her Soul-Energy Capacity. She could go up to 50% past her limit.

  However… was this just a safe limit—one that let her know she should slow down once it approached? Like a bucket filling with water—where the only worrisome thing was spillage? Or was that a hard cap, and things would turn dire if she passed it? A bucket that didn’t spill, but simply exploded once full?

  Soul-Energy (Unconverted): 535/400

  Soul Aspects contained: Zerus Larenune (100%)

  There was nothing else to do but find out.

  Josier’s face scrunched in concentration. He lifted one hand, just slightly, to begin forming a magic circuit. The moment he did, Zerus jerked beneath him, gaining leverage. But her strength was already waning—sapped inch by inch. His efforts were holding.

  He had a clear shot at her neck. One clean stab, and it would all be over But his orders had been clear: appease the little High-Noble.

  His own life was on the line, yet that didn’t matter. War Paragons were trained to fight. He himself was employed by Talo, and he was also trained to not disobey orders. Acting on his own wasn’t in the job description.

  A spell circuit shimmered into being over his palm—seven rings, complex and layered, glowing faintly with energy.

  Mana couldn’t be seen by most. Only those with special passives, rare artifacts, or unique constitutions could perceive it in raw form. Even the caster could only feel their own flow—sense it like heat or weight—not see it.

  Enya was one such exception; her mana detection passive had made this easy.

  Her eyes locked onto the glowing pattern in front of Josier’s hand. She watched every ring fill, every glyph snap into place. Just as the spell neared completion—

  “All right, I’m stopping it!” Josier barked. A pulse of mana rippled outward. The spell shattered before release, the fragments bursting into wild, ambient energy. Josier’s hand slammed back down on Zerus’ back, pinning her again before she could rise.

  Enya’s thoughts sharpened instantly.

  This was her window.

  The Grim Pullet flashed into the air, pages flipping open in a gust—stopping at a partially written design, sketched with feverish urgency days before. She hadn’t learned the spell yet. So… she’d cheat.

  The scattered mana from Josier’s canceled spell surged toward the book. The pages drank it in. The mana was redirected. Recycled. This was the technique Enya had unlocked when she became a Visionary.

  No wasted magic.

  From her body, the Inner Darkness Apparition detached and staggered forward. Shadowy white. Pale. A formless Enya cloaked in inky folds of dim light.

  “Hey—! Wait!” Pell shouted from nearby, still half-hugging Zerus’ leg to keep her pinned. “You’re not doing what I think you’re doing, right?!”

  His skull snapped toward her. “That insight crap—you said you needed a soul. I thought you had someone else’s!”

  Enya didn’t respond. She could only answer him in her mind, though it wasn’t like he could hear her.

  Sorry, Pell. This was all I could come up with. No one else. No time.

  If her insight was right, then what she needed wasn’t just a spell—it was a soul. A presence strong enough to break Zerus’ chains from within.

  And right now, the only soul available… was hers. A split portion of it. She didn’t have anything else to use, nor did she know the method to move other souls, like Pell’s.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  The Inner Darkness Apparition leapt forward—arms outstretched—and collapsed into Zerus’ body. A light shadow merging with a lightless shadow. There was a connection. Not deep. Not intimate. But enough.

  It resembled the strange tether she had with her registered minions—a mental thread, distant and unclear, yet undeniably hers.

  This was it.

  No going back now.

  Soul-Energy (Unconverted): 723/400

  Soul Aspects contained: Zerus Larenune (100%)

  More and more, Soul-Energy continue to depart from her body. As time went on, the struggle from both sides began to subside. The black chains continued to hum; the sigils whirred, their movement still steadily rotating around skin.

  Enya’s body also began to tremble now. She let go of the bonecarver’s quill—the flowing energy had stopped. Zerus’ body ceased to move.

  A notification ping rang out in her mind.

  She barely was able to read the information; straining against her own muscle that were building tension.

  System Notification: You have landed a killing blow on Zerus Lerenune (Level 46).

  You have received 971 EXP (13% Contribution).

  Experience Remaining Until Next Level: 1127/1851

  For a heartbeat, Enya froze.

  That was it.

  She had done it.

  She had killed Zerus.

  She hadn’t saved her.

  Her hands clenched around the quill. A cold shock ran through her chest—like falling into icy water. Her breath caught. But then—her eyes narrowed.

  Something wasn’t right. Zerus was dead.

  But she was also... still alive.

  It reminded her of Pell. He was dead, yes—but his soul lived on. Bound to bone. Willed into motion. Right now… Zerus was the same. Her body had died. But her soul still lingered—suspended, tethered, trapped within Enya’s own soul container. And that meant—

  There was still time.

  She just needed to continue the plan. Everything so far had worked. The next step was… was breaking the chains.

  Zerus’ body lay motionless now. But the chains still writhed. Barely. Just enough to remind them this wasn’t over.

  The runes across her skin had dulled to faint markings—no longer glowing, but not inert either. They pulsed with a low-frequency shimmer, like coals that refused to die.

  Josier rose to his feet slowly, rolling his shoulders, the tension of combat still lingering in the way his muscles twitched beneath his torn suit. A sheen of sweat clung to his forehead, and faint scrapes decorated his arms. But for the most part—he was fine.

  It was the restraint that had cost him, not the fight itself. His eyes fell on Enya, then on the limp demon beneath her.

  “…Well,” he muttered, exhaling through his nose. “That was certainly something.”

  Enya didn’t respond.

  Josier stepped closer and crouched near Zerus’ side. He gestured toward her chest—toward the glass chamber that held her heart.

  Enya watched, taking in the scene, bathing in the temporary peace they now had. Her hands were trembling slightly. Not from fear—but from too much thinking.

  Inside Zerus, Enya’s Inner Darkness Apparition floated through the vessel like a shadow in foreign waters. Her consciousness brushed up against the body’s inner structure—the heart chamber, the bindings, the delicate magical nerves carved through the interior like burnt veins.

  The chains inside still slithered faintly, black and sharp, wrapped around the core like barbed wire around a caged flame.

  “She’s not done yet,” Enya murmured. “We have to sever the chains. They're still wrapped around her heart.”

  She pointed to the center of Zerus’ chest. “If we can disconnect them from the heart, I might be able to shove Zerus’ soul back in,” Enya said quietly. “That should break the link to her master. Probably…”

  “Probably…” Pell repeated, staring at her.

  Josier exhaled, rising to his feet again. His suit was torn, his gloves scorched at the seams, and his shoulder bled lightly beneath a half-healed gash. But he nodded.

  “Is there a process?” he asked, wiping more sweat from his brow. “Some kind of ritual you need to set up?”

  Pell, who had been lying in the dirt like a crushed twig for the last minute, finally stood upright and dusted himself off. “Not to interrupt your heroic pacing, but that,” he pointed at the glass casing in Zerus’ chest, “isn't normal.”

  “Really?” Enya muttered, voice dry.

  Pell ignored her tone, waving a skeletal hand. “I mean it. That chamber—that’s not some magical artifact. That’s her body. The chains are woven through the glass itself, yeah, but they’re also connected to everything else. If you break it, something might go wrong.”

  “How wrong?” Enya asked, though she realized it was probably a stupid question once it left her mouth.

  Pell made a vague gesture, as if estimating the weight of death. “Best case? The chains break and she wakes up. Win-win, now we have a demon—enemy of all humanity—that may or may not still want to kill us, but hey, at least she’s not being controlled. Worst case? It ruptures something important, and the whole body goes into rejection or shuts down. I’m not a doctor. I’m not even alive. I don’t know how demons work. But—wait actually, wouldn’t that be the best case scenario?”

  Pell mumbled as he second-thought about his scenarios.

  Though Enya wanted to save her; Pell still thought she was a dangerous demon. She had stood toe-to-toe with Josier, who was a Platinum-Tier War Paragon. Sure; to Pell, she was probably amped up on some type of magical ritualistic drug, but that didn’t make her any less reassuring to have around.

  Enya stared down at Zerus’ chest. The glass pulsed faintly with the rhythm of a heart that shouldn’t be beating anymore.

  “We have to try,” she whispered. “We’ve already gone this far. I can still help her.”

  Josier knelt back down beside the demon girl.

  “I can probably just stab through the chamber and cut the chains off,” he said. “But if there’s a special process or concern you have, you’d better tell me now. There’s no other way I can see to do this.”

  After a short, momentary pause—Enya nodded once.

  “Alright,” Josier said.

  Josier raised one of his daggers. It wasn’t enchanted—at least, not visibly so. Just polished steel, crafted for balance and sharpness. He flipped it in his grip once and pressed the tip against the glass chamber in Zerus’ chest. Then, he stabbed downward.

  A sharp, metallic ping rang out. The blade bounced off harmlessly.

  Josier blinked. He frowned, then adjusted the angle and struck again—this time with more force, a twist of the wrist.

  Clang.

  Still nothing.

  Pell, watching from behind, tilted his skull. “Problem?”

  Josier stood, still holding the dagger. “It’s not just some containment. That glass chamber—it’s an artifact. My blade won’t pierce it.” He clicked his tongue, wiping the flat of the blade on his ruined sleeve.

  Enya’s heart sank slightly. Her gaze remained on Zerus’ chest, on that eerie transparent chamber that pulsed faintly like a second heartbeat. Inside her own body, the pressure had built up once again.

  Soul-Energy (Unconverted): 723/400

  Soul Aspects contained: Zerus Larenune (100%)

  The weight of Soul-Energy was bearing down on her. She swallowed hard.

  Josier crouched again. “Let’s try something else.”

  He flipped his wrist, the blade in his hand turning into a smoky haze, its form unraveling into tendrils of shadow. They twisted like living ink—malleable, pliable.

  He breathed in. With a practiced motion, he then thrust the misted blade into the glass. There was no sound. No resistance. It passed through like smoke through water.

  Josier’s eyes narrowed. He focused. The shadows condensed again within the chamber, reforming around one of the chains

  He slashed.

  A crackle of black sparks burst within the chamber—sharp, violent—and the first chain snapped.

  Zerus convulsed violently. Her back arched. A harsh, guttural gasp forced its way out of her throat. The sigils along her skin flared for a moment—then dimmed again, the light sputtering like a candle in the wind.

  Enya flinched but didn’t look away.

  Josier hesitated, waiting.

  Zerus didn’t move.

  Enya whispered, “Again.”

  And Josier obliged. Another shadow-formed dagger. Another thrust. Another strike.

  Chain after chain, he cut them free—slow, deliberate. Each time, Zerus' body twitched in reaction. A slight tremor. A jerk of the leg. A flinch in her jaw.

  Enya watched all of it, breathing unevenly. She was trying to stay focused, but it was getting harder. Her hands were clenched, her body stiff, and even her legs were shaking.

  Pell turned to look at her, his soul-flames flickering brighter. “You okay? That… the apparition of yours—you’re fine, right?”

  Enya’s voice came out tight. “Yes. I’m fine.”

  He raised a bony brow ridge. “You’re about to pop like an overstuffed pumpkin.”

  “It’s not the apparition. It’s just... the energy. I'm over capacity.” Her fingers trembled. “I have no idea what the ghost-me is doing inside her. I don’t… feel any pain. So it’s probably fine…”

  Pell stared for a second, before turning furious. “You don’t even know what is happening, and you just shoved a portion of your soul inside this demon’s body?!”

  Enya didn’t answer.

  That was… basically it. She had no idea what she was doing. She was just following whatever the prompt from her insight skill had suggested. Surely, her own class wouldn’t lie and recommend something so dangerous, right?

  Of course, that’s if her skill knew that was going to use her own soul as the catalyst to break the link of chains.

  “This is so extremely stupid,” he said once more, trying to contain his bewildered anger. He looked back toward the heart chamber, his soul-flames thinned to tiny specs, carefully watching it.

  Finally, Josier exhaled, long and low. “That’s the last of them.”

  The final chain fell away, dissolving into fragments of black ash that scattered across the chamber walls. Inside the glass, Zerus’ heart floated—untethered now. Quiet. Still faintly pulsing. But finally…

  Free.

  Enya took one shaky step forward and raised her hand over the glass.

  Pell glanced back at her. “You sure this’ll be it? If she decides to strike at you, Josier’s going to have to kill her. No second attempts.”

  She didn’t answer. She just closed her eyes and slowly, gently, released the soul.

  A soft, glowing mist unfurled from her palm, descending in a slow spiral. Like a dream finding its way home, it drifted through the glass and curled around the heart.

  Zerus’ chest twitched. Then, it stilled.

  Enya staggered back, her shoulders finally slumping. Her arms fell limp at her sides. The tension was gone; she felt normal again.

  Inside the chamber, the glow faded. The runes on Zerus’ skin blinked once—then vanished.

  From her side, the Inner Darkness Apparition unraveled like a thread pulled loose from a spindle. It drifted upward, hazy and formless, then glided gently back toward Enya. With a soft shimmer, it merged into her once more, disappearing into her chest like smoke absorbed into skin.

  Josier stayed crouched beside the demon’s body. “…Was that it?” he asked, voice low.

  Pell looked to Enya.

  She opened her mouth to answer. But before she could, a voice crackled to life from somewhere inside Zerus’ cloak.

  Mechanical. Sharp. Female.

  All three of them flinched.

  Pell and Josier hadn’t heard the demon speak clearly before—only snarls and broken phrases, the guttural sounds of something feral barely mimicking words. Until now, they had assumed that was Zerus’ voice.

  “How… interesting.”

  But Enya knew better. The voice was too light. Too young. Too smug.

  “Such a shame to lose a subject,” the voice continued. “Tsk, tsk. Even if this was just a favor for that bastard Ginne—what a terribly unfortunate result.”

  Enya’s throat tightened. “You…” she said, quietly. “You’re Pin? The one who did this to her?”

  Laughter rang out from within the cloak. A high, airy cackle like a child who had just pulled the wings off a butterfly.

  Josier scowled, reaching into Zerus’ cloak and pulling free the communication crystal. He held it up, letting the voice speak clearly.

  “Me? I’m not the one who just killed her,” Pin said sweetly. “If anything, I turned her into something far greater than she ever would’ve become on her own. You and your little group of sentimentalists—you’re the real monsters here. Sabotaging a perfect demonstration. Do you even understand what you’ve destroyed?”

  She sighed. Long and heavy, an almost theatrical performance, as though deeply inconvenienced.

  “This was proof that demons can be controlled. They can be shaped. Turned into weapons. No more bloodshed—no more rebellions or riots. But no, you had to ruin everything. You just had to play hero.”

  The voice rattled on, too fond of her own speech to stop.

  “As for you, Lia Empyria—”

  Enya froze. There it was again. That name.

  “—it’s rare that Ginne and his people would even request a favor from me. Especially for someone buried this far down in the layers. Frankly, I hate dealing with enchanted realm politics. Contrived, messy. I’d rather be in my lab, eating cupcakes and listening to the screams of demons as I turn them more... human.”

  Enya's thoughts scrambled. Lia Empyria...? Is she talking about me?

  But before Enya could form the question aloud, Pin’s voice took a dark turn.

  “Oh well. I did my part. It’s really tragic you decided to destroy poor Zerus. I suppose I’ll just have to make do with her family for now. As for you—”

  A pause. And then, the smile could be heard in her voice.

  “I don’t like owing favors. So since you destroyed one of my little toys—I’ll pay you back in kind.”

  Enya’s eyes widened.

  A pulse surged through Zerus’ body. Not mana, but… something else. Powerful. Wild. Rushing and building fast.

  No… no…! She can’t be—!

  Josier felt it too. He moved instantly. In one swift motion, he grabbed Pell’s wrist and Enya’s arm, yanking them both upright and into a sprint. “Move! Now!”

  The world fractured. The atmosphere turned crimson Sound distorted into ringing static. Enya’s vision warped—too much light, too much sound—and then… something detonated.

  Pell’s skull—literally—flew off his shoulders.

  She didn’t even have time to scream as she was sent hurling through the air.

  Josier himself lost his grip on the two as he barreled forward.

  “Enjoy the surprise,” Pin’s voice echoed faintly, too far to hear clearly now.

  And then the explosion tore the forest apart.