Truth Serum had been a spectacularly dumb idea last ti. Binding magic—especially soul magic that shackles soone from revealing crucial info—doesn’t exactly vibe well with a drug that scrambles your brain into a truth-vomiting frenzy.
Now that I knew how obsessively thorough the Elves were with their magical paperwork, I wasn’t about to try that stunt again.
I didn’t have anything close to a solid grasp on how soul magic actually worked, but from the little I could dig up, it seed... system-linked? Structured in so way, and easily one of the most ironclad binding magics out there. Problem was, the craft itself had gone the way of forgotten languages—so all I had were loose theories and half-rotted scraps of history, nothing actionable.
And now that I suspected the Elves might’ve locked down their underlings with that kind of binding, repeating the truth serum trick sounded like the fastest route to another disaster. Especially since—fun fact—Viper seed to know more about soul magic than I did.
“Yes, I’ve seen similar things before. Reluctant though I am to admit it, I was once a scholar specializing in the field.”
A scholar? In soul magic? That was... unexpectedly intriguing. Especially since the field itself was all but extinct. What soone like him was doing down here in the gri-tier districts under Lysska’s payroll, though, that was the real puzzle. But I wasn’t about to start poking that hornet’s nest—he looked downright sour the mont he brought it up. Made wonder if his academic departure involved laurels… or accelerant.
“But while I’ve seen soul contracts that can completely block soone from speaking or even intending to act against the contract’s terms,” he continued, “I’ve never seen one that punishes intent. Normally, the action just fizzles out. Like when that elf couldn’t say a word under truth serum. But what happened next…” He trailed off, clearly still unsettled. “That… thing wasn’t soul binding alone. That kind of horrifying mutation? That’s not part of any normal contract. I think there was a hex involved. Sothing that used the contract-breaking attempt as a trigger. If that’s the case, we definitely shouldn’t try it again.”
I clicked my tongue. Fantastic. Just what I wanted to hear.
My gaze drifted to Thibault’s remains—or rather, the abstract sculpture I’d made of him after forcibly deleting his limbs. Tiny, glistening stumps were already bubbling forth; his regeneration was sluggish but undeniable. He was a red core user—sa tier as , if the system applied to the sa way. But even then, my abilities were sothing else entirely. A few notches above the curve.
We were holed up in what looked like an abandoned warehouse—high steel roof, wide open space, dust and silence for ambiance. Viper’s Salamander now maintained a notably cautious periter. If my re aura had prickled its instincts before, my recent… demonstration had vividly, bloodily validated every primal alarm.
Viper himself mirrored the creature. He was rattled, yes. But beneath it pulsed a raw, unmistakable relief. The calculation was brutally simple: absent my intervention, Lysska or no Lysska, Thibault would have erased him in a heartbeat.
Vyra claid she was keeping watch outside, along with Zorak—just in case sothing, or soone, decided to take a morbid interest in our hideout. My air senses picked up precisely nothing unusual. And honestly? Her vigilance level felt… questionable. I caught her bouncing around, swinging that ludicrously oversized axe at what resembled a deeply bewildered owl. Or perhaps just an exceptionally unlucky pigeon. Either way—so much for periter security. dal-worthy dedication, truly.
Not that I was losing sleep over it. We were close to that haunted stretch of forest, sure, but this area was practically abandoned. Even the warehouse we were holed up in had twisted vines crawling all over it like nature had started repossessing the place.
Normally, squatting this close to an active anomaly would be a one-way ticket to spontaneous organ failure. But that forest had been dormant for a decade. Dormant. Stone cold. So, logically… absolutely nothing could go wrong.
…
Did I just jinx it?
FUCK.
I shook my head. First flicker of weird, we’re gone. Not waiting around for anymore trouble today—I had zero emotional bandwidth left.
My eyes flicked back to Thibault—still unconscious, still missing his limbs. Viper’s earlier thoughts about soul magic were still rattling around in my head.
Which reminded ... Gwen. Back when she scooped up that Heralas guy, she ntioned putting him under so sort of soul-binding contract too. Said she’d help him unlock his “true potential.”
That line had stuck.
I’d already figured soul magic was System-linked. And now that I had soone nearby who seed fluent in the subject? No reason not to poke for more.
I tossed the question casually toward Viper. “I read sowhere that soul magic used to exist naturally,” back before the System slamd the door on humanoid species, flipped them off, and made itself exclusive to us monsters—if what Lotte told was true. “Also heard it was the key to unlocking your true potential.”
Viper blinked. Definitely caught off-guard. “Where’d you read that?”
I shrugged. Couldn’t exactly say an ancient dream-dragon told while I was asleep. “Don’t rember the book,” I lied, “just that fact really stuck with .”
He didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t push it. Just glanced around, wary now. Sothing about this topic made him itch. Definitely personal. Probably unpleasant. I didn’t care. I wanted his knowledge, not his moir.
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“Whatever it is... try not to say any of that out loud in public,” he muttered.
I raised a brow. “What, it’s so kind of forbidden lore?”
“Close,” he said. Then continued, quieter now, “But yeah—what you read’s mostly true. They say all our power cos from the soul. As we grow, it’s the soul that’s maturing. Our bodies just catch up.
“So folks used to think the core—red, blue, whatever—was the soul. But that was a fundantal misunderstanding. The soul’s not a colored orb you can poke with mana. It’s sothing more… sothing intangible. More elusive. Profoundly other. Sacred.
“And that soul? It’s the sole remaining bridge. Our only frayed connection to sothing vast. Ancient. Imasurably more potent than our mortal brains can grasp.
“That connection’s faded, corroded over ti. But soul magic... it can repair that link. Temporarily. And when it does, it lets you tap into things—arts, powers—that you wouldn’t even have the language to imagine otherwise.”
That more or less sealed it for —soul magic was the key for those not tethered to the System.
And that bit about the ‘Ancient Thing’? I caught that. Smiled at Viper, knowing full well he was sitting on more knowledge than he was letting on—but wasn’t in the mood to unpack it.
Fine by .
Everyone had their little vault of secrets. I was barely hanging onto mine as it was, fingers slipping more each day in this chaos-stained world.
“Just… don’t bring up soul magic outside,” Viper warned. “There are… collectors. The kind who’d flay your mind layer by layer for a single glimpse. If they suspect you’ve tasted forbidden lore, or that their precious research bled…”
Oddly vivid. Almost personal.
I shrugged. He flinched like I’d brandished a knife.
“Well,” he conceded, voice arid, “they’d likely discover a new definition of ‘regret’ if they tangled with you.”
Aww. Thanks.
“But still. It’s a very sensitive topic.”
“Yeah, I got that.”
He hesitated. There was sothing else rattling in that skull of his, but he looked like he was chewing glass trying to say it.
“Out with it,” I said, flicking him a harmless grin. “I hate when people hold their questions just ‘cause they think I’ll explode. Silence born of fear is tedious. Look at .” I pointed at myself. “We’re allies.”
He was quiet for a beat longer. Then finally:
“Who are you?”
Oof. That was blunt. To be fair, I never actually introduced myself.
“Well, Vyra calls Venam. I’ve taken a liking to it. But na’s Jade. Just a student at the Alchemy Tower.”
He snorted. “Right. Because Alchemy Tower is famous for taking in red cores. Especially ones like you.”
I shrugged. “If you imagine so scheming monster lurking beneath—”
(Which, admittedly, wasn’t entirely fiction.)
“—you’re wrong. I joined the Alchemy Tower for genuine reasons. Love for alchemy. Admiration for Vasilisa’s work. That’s it.”
He narrowed his eyes. “You say you’ve got no agenda, and yet here you are… tangled up with Lysska. That’s not sothing soone without any motive does.”
This part didn’t even need lying.
“It’s a sort of precognition,” I said, stepping in a little closer.
“I… love this place,” I said simply. “It’s not my birthplace. But it’s beco my ho.”
I started to slowly circle him.
“I have a… family, I think. Friends I’ve made. ntors I admire. People who care about —and people I care about. People who look up to . People I look up to.”
I paused and turned to face him again. What started off as a hunt for my past and a way to sharpen myself through alchemy… I didn’t even notice when it changed. But sowhere along the way, I started speaking from the heart.
“This place is a ss, sure. Twisted. Broken in places. But it’s mine. And I’ve chosen to claim it, chaos and all.”
I stepped a little closer, eyes eting his—violet against erald, calm but sharp.
“So when its end starts looming on the horizon… do you really expect to sit back and watch it burn?”
There was no heat in my voice. Just quiet certainty.
Viper flinched, just slightly. “E-End?”
I smiled and stepped back. “That’s the shape looming on the horizon, yes. And the catalyst had already detonated today. Slipped past every sentry, every sensor. Would have reduced this place to ash and echoes if Lysska and I hadn’t jamd the fuse.” I let the silence hang. “But do you really think that’s the last spark? Not while the architects skulk in the shadows,” my gaze pinned the twitching, limbless ruin of Thibault, “cowering behind soul-contract shields. Their existence makes ‘peace’ a narcotic daydream.”
“So. My agenda you ask?” A half-smile, sharp. “That’s it. Might sll faintly of heroism, but don’t mistake the scent—it’s pure, unfiltered selfishness. Protecting what I’ve clawed out as mine. And anyone threatening my claim?” The air chilled around . “I’ll hunt them down and dismantle them. Thoroughly.”
Viper looked a little shaken, but sothing had clearly clicked in him. His doubt was slowly lting into sothing colder—more resolved.
“I’m sorry… I thought—”
“What, that I had so kind of twisted hidden motive? That I was using Lysska?” I laughed softly. “Please. That kind of backroom scheming is not my style. Way too much hassle.”
I grinned, sharp and toothy. “I prefer my thods loud and direct.”
My Intelligence stat kept climbing, yet classical ‘wisdom’ remained elusive. No sudden epiphanies, no quoting dusty tos. It felt like… running thirty brains in parallel. Synced. Processing torrents of data with brutal efficiency.
I wasn’t a mastermind weaving grand designs. Just a creature capable of parsing the world at terrifying speed. Quick. Adaptable. Efficient.
Still fundantally that “dumb little hatchling,” as Lotte, in her ancient wisdom, once decreed.
I smiled at the mory, glancing out toward the vine-choked exterior of the warehouse.
But that was fine.
If I weren’t that, I probably would’ve lost myself by now.
Movent. A twitch from the Thibault-shaped abstract art.
My eyes snapped to him. Finally waking up. Ti to tread carefully. Though... I did have a sort-of plan.
Not really a plan-plan. More like a hunch. A na. Soone who might know more about this whole soul magic ss.
A certain corpulent dream-reptile currently squatting in my subconscious rent-free.
“Back shortly,” I announced, brushing past Viper. “Require a mont’s solitude.”
He nodded. Vyra too.
I slipped away, weaving through the skeletons of abandoned buildings, until I found a decent spot—quiet, shadowed, perfect.
I raised a hand and shaped the sigil of the Mother of Chains with mana, felt the strange spiritual pull rise into my throat as I intoned,
“The Eternal Arbiter of Sin and Virtue.”
***
"Sothing you said fractured her composure," Lysska murmured, the cold night wind whipping strands of hair across her sharp features, watching the Flaclaw Matriarch’s silhouette vanish over the horizon, tearing through the sky on her blazing greatsword at breakneck speed.
"The observation regarding that girl, Jade’s resemblance to Princess Vernia?" Lord Veyan floated beside her, voice calm as ever while she stood atop her familiar.
Lysska let out a short, dry laugh. “Sothing I wondered myself, at first. But she doesn’t have a drop of royal blood—at least none I could trace.” Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Which makes the Matriarch’s reaction… profoundly curious. Where does a drakkari matriarch run that fast?"
Veyan paused, gaze thoughtful. “I ceased pretending to fathom the Master’s labyrinthine thoughts years ago. But judging by the vector she carved through the heavens... I believe she’s making for the human empire. Aurelia.”
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