Chapter Two: Soul Bind
"Look here, you short-armed bastard, I told you—if we don't get there in the next two days, the boss is going to kill us," barked one of the bandits.
"Oi, don't call me short arms, you mushroom-dick-looking son of a bitch!" the one with stubby arms snapped back.
"I swear to all that's holy, if you don't stop pointing those sausage fingers at me, I'll cut them off!" shouted the first, spit flying with every word.
"Shut up, both of you needle dicks. I'm sick of listening to you argue," growled Tic, the leader of this merry band of misfits. "I swear, if I strapped swords to two rocks, they'd have more brain cells than the two of you."
As the bandits bickered, their voices echoing into the night, a creaky carriage behind them. Its top was crudely removed and replaced with iron bars, transforming it into a mobile prison. A filthy sheet half-covered it, stained with gods-know-what. The stench alone could kill.
In the darkest corner of that cage, a girl no older than twenty sat motionless, blank-eyed. Dirt and grime hid her face. Once full of life, now she sat in silence—resigned, broken, a soul with nowhere to go. Her fate was sealed: to be sold, used, and discarded. Yet within that silence, a prayer stirred—even if I must sell my soul, let me be free.
"Achoo."
"Someone must be thinking about me," Valon muttered as he strolled through the forest, hands in pockets, entirely unconcerned.
He'd been walking north for nearly two hours, crushing weak beasts along the way. Most had been so pitiful that they may as well have thrown themselves onto his fists willingly.
Then, smoke. Rising gently beyond the trees.
Activating Mana Sense, he spotted a group of four bandits and a small mana signature confined within a cage.
"Well, looks like dinner's been served," he smirked. "Maybe I'll even leave one alive for once."
He pulled his dark hood over his head, letting only his gem-like eyes glow beneath the shadow. Without hesitation, he used Warp—appearing just outside the firelight, cloaked by the forest.
One of the bandits shivered. Something primal urged him to turn. When he did, his eyes locked onto the glowing crimson gaze in the darkness.
"Oi, Jim, what are you—" the second bandit stopped mid-sentence, his words freezing in his throat.
The others stood, weapons drawn.
"What the fuck is that?" Tic whispered, his grip tightening.
Valon stepped into the light, slowly, methodically. As he pulled back his hood, the fire revealed a man with raven-black hair and eyes like bloodstone.
Tic exhaled, relieved. "Oh. Just a creep. Thought you were a demon or something."
"Who the fuck are you, creeping around like some pervert?"
"Death."
Before the word finished leaving his lips, Valon was gone.
Tic blinked.
His world tilted.
Then, nothing.
Tic's headless body collapsed to the ground.
The others could only scream.
Valon reappeared before the next bandit and drove his hand through the man's chest, tearing out his heart. In one fluid motion, he tore the arms from the so-called T-Rex bandit and used one to batter the final man, hurling him ten meters into a tree with a sickening crunch.
Dark magic surged through Valon's veins. As he absorbed the souls of the three dead men.
Strength: 154
In the cage, Merivel heard every sound—the screams, the carnage, the bone-shattering violence. Fear clenched her heart, and her breath came in shallow bursts.
And then…
"Do you desire power?"
The voice was not from outside. It was inside. Whispering, tempting.
"Power to save yourself. Power to break the chains. Power to take what is rightfully yours?"
Her eyes snapped open. Memories of her burning village, of death and loss, flooded in.
If only I had power.
If I wasn't weak.
I would have killed them all.
The thought shocked her. But it felt right.
A twisted smile crept onto her face.
"Yes," she whispered. "Kill them all. Kill. Kill. KILL."
"Yes," she said aloud, her voice trembling. "I want power."
Valon approached the prison and ripped the iron bar door from the hinges.
He placed his palm over her face. Dark mist coiled around his fingers.
"Soul Bind."
The magic sank into her eyes, and she screamed—thrashing against the chains, against her fate, against weakness.
Then silence.
She rose to one knee.
Her eyes gleamed—no longer dull, but bright molten gold.
"Hello, my lord," she said, meeting his gaze without fear.
Valon smiled.
"And so my reign begins."