Chapter 35: the ruins

A man cloaked in a black robe stood motionless in the dim glow of his underground lab.

His face was pale—white as snow—and his breath, when it escaped, curled like icy mist. His body had a stiffness to it, fragile and still, like a corpse preserved in frost.

He smiled faintly, his colorless lips barely moving as he gazed toward the heavy door.

With a voice deep and hollow, like a void echoing from the abyss, he murmured,

"I don't have time... I need to deliver the ingredients. But they arrived at the worst moment. He woke up... and we're running low on energy he likes playing with them first."

He closed the thick, rusted door behind him with a creak that echoed through the chamber.

Inside, the lab pulsed with dark energy.

Strange corpses floated in glass-like shells—half-formed, resembling embryonic husks. Scrolls drifted slowly in the air, as if alive, wrapped in ribbons of shadow. The ingredients he had gathered were strange things—some shimmered, others pulsed with what looked like veins and breath. All of them radiated a sinister, living aura, some of the ingredients you can feel it's pain.

He reached for just one scroll. Its dark cover shimmered with runes before he tucked it under his robe and stepped into the shadows, disappearing.

Meanwhile, Anazitis ventured deep into an ancient ruin hidden beneath the mountains.

As he stepped out of a small stone chamber, his foot triggered a hidden mechanism.

Click.

Dozens—no, hundreds—of arrows shot toward him from the walls and ceiling.

But Anazitis moved with precision and grace, his soul power guiding him. He weaved between the arrows like the wind, his cloak fluttering behind him.

One arrow, however, came from a blind spot.

But before it could strike, a pale-golden aura shimmered across his body, deflecting the attack with a burst of spiritual energy.

"Typical ruin defense," he muttered, brushing off dust. "Regular arrows? I wield soul power. This is no challenge at all, try harder next time."

Just as he relaxed, a quiet rustling sound grew around him.

Flowers—strange, glowing blossoms—emerged from the cracks in the walls and floor, blooming instantly with unnatural speed.

Without warning, they launched their leaves like spears, aiming directly at him.

Anazitis summoned soul energy to his hands, shaping it into shields that blocked the incoming strikes. He spun and stepped back, deflecting more attacks.

Suddenly, another flower appeared behind him. It whipped its thorny stem at his back—he barely dodged in time.

"I don't have the upper hand here," he grunted. "They're coming from every direction... even the walls."

His soul aura wrapped around him once more, and he dashed through the narrow hallway, searching for a safe place.

A vine—thick and dark, like a living shadow—chased him, slithering behind like a serpent hungry for prey.

Finally, he found a small underground chamber—its walls made of loose dirt and broken stone. It was tight, but for now, safe.

But the flowers were relentless. They crept in, surrounding the entrance. Then, they began to release a smoke—thick, grey, and sweet-smelling like poisoned nectar.

Anazitis tore a strip of cloth from his robe and covered his mouth, gripping it tightly with one hand.

The plants lashed out again. He fought back—striking with bursts of glowing soul energy—but something was wrong.

His arms moved slower. His legs felt heavier. The air was too thick. He hadn't even noticed how much he had inhaled.

Before he could retreat, a wooden whip—disguised as a vine—struck him from behind.

He fell to one knee, vision spinning.

"Damn this smoke..." he whispered. "I've lost control of my..."

Before the sentence could finish, his eyes rolled back, and he collapsed.

Elsewhere, Halfy sprinted through the ruins, a dagger in each hand.

Vines and flowers struck at him, but he was faster. Using his speed skill, he dashed past them, slicing the plants mid-motion.

"No matter how much I cut, there's no end!" he shouted, frustration rising in his voice.

A wave of twisting plants surged at him from every corner.

Without thinking, he jumped and rolled into a crevice in the wall, hiding himself from their view.

Back in the training field, Igetis wiped the sweat from his brow.

His blade had been swinging through the air for hours.

"Hah... they're really getting along," he said with a small smile, remembering Halfy following Anazitis earlier with the lunch boxes.

"I'll train a little more... then I'll go check on them. Nothing dangerous in those ruins... but—"

He paused.

His soul pulsed.

A chill ran through him. It wasn't fear, but a warning. Something in the air had shifted.

"I feel it..." he said quietly. "Something's not right, my souls power is shaking something is happening."

Without another word, Igetis sheathed his sword and began walking quickly toward the ruins.