"Gah! That hurt!"
In a dark, isolated room, lit only by a single bulb hanging overhead, a man sat beneath the light, quietly stitching up his wounds.
"He could see it... He could see my Soul technique?"
The man chuckled—not in anger or resentment, but with amusement. His name was Xerxes Advent, the only human ever chosen by the gods, and one of the rare few awakened with an extraordinary Soul-Energy.
"You're sulking Xerxes, that's never happened before." A voice echoed from the shadows, and Xerxes turned his head, eyes narrowing as he searched for the one who had disturbed his solitude.
"You're also injured, that's never happened before either. What the hell happened to you out there?" The voice stepped into the light, revealing a woman with long, silky black hair, black lipstick, and piercing black eyes. She wore a flowing black cloak, and on her neck was a tattoo of a horned skull.
