A sudden thought struck Ethan, sending a chill down his spine. He turned to Donovan and asked, "Em, are you absolutely sure you don't have children?"
Donovan blinked in confusion. "Kid, I never even got married. Where the hell would a child co from? Don't go around tarnishing my reputation! You want to co out and beat your ass?"
"Heh…"
Ethan narrowed his eyes, watching the old man's over-the-top reaction.
With a knowing tone, he said, "You know… not being married doesn't necessarily an—"
"Shut the hell up!"
Donovan cut him off, his face turning red. The more Ethan spoke, the more agitated Donovan beca. Even his eyes started darting around suspiciously.
'Wait… could this old man actually have a secret kid sowhere?'
Ryan didn't seem to care about their exchange. Holding the engraved wooden slab, he casually tossed it into the barrier.
"Get ready, I'm setting you free—"
"Wait—!" Donovan suddenly shouted, but it was too late. The wooden slab was already airborne.
Whoosh—
As soon as it landed, a thick red mist burst forth, spreading rapidly within the barrier.
Ryan froze. "…Ethan?"
The formation had already begun activating, but Donovan had called for a stop at the last mont.
'What now?'
Ryan held the second slab in his hands, hesitating—unsure whether to continue. He looked at Ethan, silently waiting for his decision.
Ethan hesitated for a mont before asking, "Can we stop it now?"
Ryan didn't even have to answer—the helpless look on his face said it all. A second later, he shook his head. No chance.
"Then keep going." Ethan clenched his jaw.
Ryan nodded, lowering his gaze. He carefully set the second slab onto the ground.
Without using any energy or special abilities, he ford intricate hand gestures, chanting softly in a language Ethan couldn't understand.
His hands moved with increasing speed, flowing seamlessly from one gesture to another. Almost like a mage casting a spell in Ethereal.
This was Ethan's first ti witnessing Ryan perform a ritual like this.
Through his soul sense, he observed an indescribable flow of energy, erging out of nowhere with each movent of Ryan's hands.
It wove through the air, thread by thread, gathering at his fingertips. But it wasn't coming from Ryan.
Ethan knew Ryan was just an ordinary person with no supernatural powers or Energy of his own.
Yet sohow…
This ancient craft, this ritualistic magic, allowed him to wield power on par with those who had supernatural abilities.
Minutes passed.
Ryan's hand movents grew faster and faster.
By the end, to Ethan's soul sense, his fingers were nothing but a blur—ten phantom-like extensions dancing through the air.
"Open!"
Ryan's hands suddenly locked together in an unnatural twist, and he pressed his fingertips onto the engraved Millennium Bloodwood slab.
Sizzle—
Like the first slab, this one also released a mist, but instead of deep crimson, this ti, it was a milky white.
"Connect…"
The red and white mists suddenly froze, hanging eerily in the air.
Inside the formation, the blood-red mist surged violently, churning like a storm. It was impossible to see what was happening within.
Even scanning with spul sense revealed nothing. As if the entire formation had vanished from this space entirely.
From the mont the ritual began, Donovan's voice had gone completely silent. Ethan had no idea what was happening inside.
Seconds passed.
The storm of mist slowly began to settle, returning to complete stillness.
"Out…"
Ryan shifted his hand seals, and—
Whoosh!
A thin white fla flickered up from the outer slab. Ryan reached out, pinched the fla between his fingers, and pulled hard. The fla grew larger as he pulled, stretching unnaturally like so kind of living thread.
"Ethan, give a hand!" Ryan called out, clearly struggling.
Ethan imdiately grabbed a handful of the flickering fla and yanked—
Pop!
A sound like a cork being pulled from a bottle echoed through the training grounds.
"Goddamn it, that hurts!"
Donovan's voice bood from within the mist.
"Uh…"
It was only then that Ethan realized what he had grabbed.
It wasn't a fla at all, It was a fistful of Donovan's hair. And his current state was absolutely ridiculous.
That 'pop' from earlier was actually the sound of Donovan's head squeezing out of the tiny opening in the runic slab.
His entire head, far larger than the opening itself, was sticking out of the slab in the most undignified way possible.
Face red with anger, he glared up at Ethan and Ryan, barking,
"You little brats! You made crawl through a damn hole, fine—
but could you not have made a bigger one?! How the hell is anyone supposed to fit through this?"
Ryan raised an eyebrow. "Aren't you demanding too much? You do realize how rare Millennium Bloodwood is, right? You should be thankful we even had these two slabs! Were you expecting a whole damn plank?"
Donovan grumbled under his breath, but… he couldn't exactly argue with that logic.
After a mont, he sighed. "Alright, fine—just hurry up and pull out!"
"Got it."
Ryan grabbed another handful of his hair and yanked.
"Ow, damn it—watch the scalp!"
Ethan, feeling a bit bad, decided against pulling his hair. Instead, he grabbed Donovan's head with both hands and started pulling straight back.
After a final hard tug—
POP!
Like an overgrown turnip, Donovan was finally freed from the slab. The three of them collapsed onto the ground, completely exhausted.
…well, technically, two people and one spirit.
Donovan lay on the floor groaning in pain, acting as if he had just been tortured for hours.
Ethan, still catching his breath, glanced at Ryan. "Hey… do spirits even feel pain? Or is he just being dramatic?"
Ryan shrugged. "No idea."
With that, he gathered his supplies, ford a final hand gesture, and with a crack, both runic slabs shattered into dust.
"Alright, we need to get moving. The sun's about to rise, and I'm shocked we haven't run into any Silverwood patrols yet. Do they not guard this place at night?"
Ryan stretched and turned to leave.
Donovan scoffed. "Guard what? There's a curfew in this place. No one leaves their hos at night."
He dusted himself off before adding, "Honestly, you two are lucky it was you ran into. If it had been the sentinels patrolling this place, you'd both be dead by now."
Ryan paused, then raised an eyebrow. "Sentinels?"
Ethan's expression also hardened. "Wait—you an there are other spirits roaming around?"
Donovan nodded. "Anyone in the Silverwood family who wasn't a Soul-Wielder got their souls extracted. Those extracted souls were then bound as sentinels to guard this place."
"At night, they're released to patrol."
"That's how they trapped here. I was ant to be turned into one of them, but instead, they bound to the statue."
Hearing this, Ethan frowned. "Wait… then last night—?"
Donovan shook his head. "No idea. By all logic, you should never have made it from the guest lodgings to the training grounds without encountering them. There are dozens of soul sentinels along that route, and you didn't see a single one?"
Ethan and Ryan both shook their heads. Donovan's brows furrowed deeply.
"Sothing isn't right."
Without hesitation, he turned toward the direction they had co from. "Co on, let's check it out."
As they walked, he muttered to himself.
"This makes no sense… it's not even ti for them to retreat yet. Where the hell did they go?"
Ryan smirked. "Maybe you're just that terrifying, Old Man. Scared them all off?"
Ethan, following behind, wasn't amused.
'Wait a minute.'
They extracted souls from anyone who wasn't a Soul-Wielder? Then what the hell would they do to him if they found out he was one?
A chill ran down his spine.
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