Wrath of the Souls: When Ghosts Get Hangry!

Meanwhile, the guy – lost in his own thoughts, didn't find it strange that a young boy could foil his plans.

After all, he speculated that the man in front of him was just a middle-aged man like himself.

But this assumption only served to infuriate him further. He had always found those who were capable of using Ether to be loathsome. He had been bullied and ostracized for being unable to wield Ether himself.

Once, he had been the pride of his school, boasting better grades than most. But everything had crumbled during the ceremony when he had been revealed as a pathetic joke.

All his pretentious ways of living, all his arrogance, had fallen apart that day. He had been treated like a cripple, and cruel fate had chosen him to become an ordinary man.

"No," he thought, "I can't accept this. I won't ever accept it!"

In a fit of rage, he had killed the teacher who had encouraged him to stay positive in life.

"That b*stard!" he had spat.

He had killed his parents, too, who had comforted him with empty words, saying, "Everything will be fine."

Bla, bla, bla.

He had killed everyone who had shown him pity. It was disgusting. It was humiliating.

Eventually, he found himself chased by the guards and thrown into jail like a dog. Everyone pointed their fingers at him.

"Why? What did I do wrong? Bastards! All of you, bastards!!!" he had sworn he would kill them all, tearing them limb from limb and hanging them in the sun.

As he waited for his life to end, rotting in jail, a man had come to his rescue.

A great god had finally decided to show him grace. His life had turned back to the way it was supposed to be: great food, great clothes, a great house, and a great power filling his entire body.

He was indeed what he had always believed himself to be – a chosen one. But as he looked at his reflection in the mirror, he realized he had become a middle-aged man.

He had lost the best years of his life. His past girlfriend had married someone else, a Weaver, no less, and had two adorable children with him.

"How could this happen to me?" he lamented.

"What did I do wrong? No, those people are the ones in the wrong!"

So, he had killed them all. Old, young, teenagers, even babies – everyone connected to her by blood.

"I give them exact justice!" he had cackled, reveling in the chaos he had unleashed. Karma had finally come for those who had tormented him.

He had even managed to torture those people, delighting in their screams of agony.

"Oh, how pleasant it was!" he thought.

"I am a divine being, chosen by a great god!"

The mighty serpent had chosen him to become the savior of all. Pity he was still at the beck and call of his so-called lord. If he did a good enough job, he was sure that one day he could become the lord directly under the great serpent and then kill the current one.

That was why the sacrificial ritual had been so important to him.

If he succeeded, the great god serpent would grant him extraordinary power, far surpassing that of the current lord.

However, if he failed and the current lord caught wind of his plans, he would likely find himself facing a rather unpleasant fate – probably involving a very sharp sword and a very angry lord.

Now, look at what had happened!

All the meticulous preparations he had made to curry favor with the great god had been foiled. The one who had crushed all of his efforts seemed to be just one man.

Just because he was busy dealing with someone – he never expected to be so strong, all his carefully selected minions and elaborate plans had crumbled like a poorly baked soufflé.

It was a small academy, for goodness' sake!

He had never imagined that he would be thwarted by that one person. If it hadn't been for some of the tricks he had prepared in advance, the cage wouldn't have even materialized. But then, to his utter dismay, he discovered that another individual was also present.

This mysterious figure had been working behind his back, employing some unknown method to destroy the black orbs he had painstakingly crafted.

He swore he would kill all of them.

He would!

…

As Arion approached the guy who was shrouded in shadows and exuded an ominous air, he gripped the baseball bat in his left hand, ready for action.

With a swift motion, he swung it toward the man's face, but the guy dodged effortlessly. Arion noticed that the man seemed particularly wary of his glowing hand, which was probably not the best sign for him.

'Great, he's got a sixth sense for glowing appendages,' Arion thought to himself, shaking off the initial surprise.

He followed up with a series of kicks and punches, determined to pressure his enemy. However, the man out of nowhere suddenly dissolves into his own shadow, disappearing from Arion's line of sight.

"He is in your shadow, Arion. Be careful," the lady in his mind warned him.

Just as the lady's warning faded, the man sprang out from Arion's shadow, brandishing a long knife made of darkness and smoke. He lunged, attempting to stab Arion from behind.

Arion, who had anticipated this move, jumped forward, but somehow, the knife and the man seemed to stick to his back.

Clang!

Fortunately, the lady managed to cast a rune magic spell, {Harden}, just in time to reinforce the aura where the knife was aimed.

The attack was successfully blocked, leaving the man flabbergasted.

'What kind of magic could do that? And what is this aura? I've never seen anything like that!' he thought, his confidence wavering as he began to take Arion more seriously.

The fight continued, and the cloaked man finally landed a hit – a slice from his bizarre long knife that drew blood from Arion's body.

"Ha! The guy seems to be exhausted," the man chuckled, feeling a surge of confidence.

With each slash, Arion accumulated more wounds, and the cloaked man reveled in the exhilaration of his apparent victory.

But then, out of nowhere, Arion's face was enveloped by a red aura that manifested into a mask adorned with a pair of horns.

In an instant, his movements became a blur, catching the man completely off guard.

Before the man could even process what was happening, Arion's glowing fist punctured his stomach.

He then let go of the bat, and in one swift motion, placed his hand on the man's forehead.

The lady's voice echoed in Arion's mind, whispering a spell he didn't understand.

"Velnias Oscnia, {Wrath of the Souls}," she intoned, her voice reverberating like a choir of ghosts.

In the next moment, the man began to quiver uncontrollably, shadows swirling above him as they converged at the temple of his head, where Arion's hand rested.

The man's mouth opened wide, and it looked like even his soul was being absorbed into Arion's palm.

After a few seconds, the man detached from Arion's palm, his lifeless body collapsing to the ground.

In Arion's hand, an orb appeared, swirling with colors of white and black, as if a cosmic dance was taking place inside.

Curious, Arion leaned in closer, and suddenly, a face emerged from the orb, screaming in horror and begging for release from its torment.

He squinted at the face, realizing it bore a striking resemblance to the man now lying cold on the ground.

Meanwhile, the Void Spawn, which had been silent during the man's arrival, began to stir, waking up and attempting to shred Arion to pieces.