As Elder One struggled to wrest his Qi back under control, a wet, rasping cough shattered the tense silence.
His eyes snapped open, locking onto the source.
There it stood—the lizard.
It swayed unsteadily, a deep gash carved into the ground where his crescent strike had landed. Blood dripped from its maw, streaking down cracked scales, yet somehow it remained upright. Its entire body trembled violently, every breath a visible struggle against pain and exhaustion.
Golden eyes—once sharp, once defiant—were now clouded and bleeding. Its vision was foggy, unfocused, the light within them flickering like a dying flame. And yet, even in its battered state, the creature's gaze met his.
There was a question in those eyes.
Not spoken. Not formed in words.
Just raw, primal disbelief.
What… is this?
the system sudden, calm voice echoed inside its mind, detached and unfeeling:
Warning: Soul Attack overused. Side effects detected. Visual impairment and bleeding imminent.
The lizard blinked—or tried to. Its eyelids felt impossibly heavy, thick with blood. Vision refused to clear. Shapes swam through a haze of red and gold, the world tilting as if reality itself had lost balance.
Why… what is happening?
The thought came without words, a voiceless scream clawing through instinct. It couldn't see clearly. Couldn't understand why blood poured from its eyes. The battlefield, its enemy, even the flow of its own power—everything it had once known felt alien, fractured.
It shook its head.
The motion sent jagged sparks of lightning crawling across its shattered scales. Its limbs quivered violently as it forced itself to remain standing.
---
{System}
The bleeding from your eyes and the distortion in your vision are the backlash.
This is a side effect of the Soul Attack.
---
The lizard froze.
Backlash?
It hadn't known. No warning. No sign that such a price existed.
Side effects…? it thought, incredulous. Backlash from the Soul Attack…? I didn't know there was a cost…
---
{System}
Under normal circumstances, there are no side effects.
However, you activated the Soul Attack too many times within a short period.
The accumulated strain has exceeded safe limits.
The lizard's chest rose and fell in shallow, ragged breaths. Each inhale scraped like broken glass through its lungs. The system's words echoed again in its mind, cold and absolute.
So that was it.
Its condition… the blood clouding its vision, the burning behind its eyes, the trembling weakness in its limbs—this was the result of overusing the Soul Attack.
A bitter, confused emotion churned in its chest.
Then why…?
Why hadn't it known?
Why hadn't there been a warning?
Its jaw clenched, lightning flickering weakly along its fangs as it forced the thought outward, directing it at the only presence that could answer.
Why didn't you tell me?
If something like this could happen—if there was a cost—why was I never warned?
For a moment, there was nothing.
Only the sound of wind scraping across broken stone. Only the distant crackle of fading lightning. The world swayed, threatening to collapse into darkness.
Then—
---
{System}
Information disclosure is conditional.
The Soul Attack is an instinctive ability. Under standard usage parameters, backlash probability is negligible. Therefore, advance warning was deemed unnecessary.
---
The lizard froze.
Instinctive…?
So it hadn't chosen it. Not truly. Its body—its soul—had acted on its own, driven by desperation and survival.
{System}
And you had never asked.
But that only made the anger twist sharper.
Negligible… doesn't mean impossible, it thought, frustration surging despite the pain. And you still said nothing.
Blood slid down from the corner of its eye, dripping onto the fractured stone below.
So what now?
If I stop using it… will this end? Or have I already crossed the line have I passed that point?
The darkness at the edges of its vision thickened, pulsing in time with its heartbeat.
The question hung in the lizard's mind, heavy and desperate.
Have I already crossed the line?
For a heartbeat, the world offered no answer. Only the slow, suffocating pulse of pain behind its eyes. Only the thick warmth of blood sliding down its snout, blurring what little vision remained.
Then—
---
{System}
Current symptoms can be classified as high-level.
Visual impairment and ocular bleeding are severe manifestations. However, damage is not permanent.
---
The lizard's breath caught.
Not… permanent?
Its claws loosened slightly in the cracked stone, tension easing by the smallest margin.
---
{System}
Provided no further Soul Attacks are activated, and sufficient rest and recovery time is observed, visual function will gradually return.
Estimated recovery: Partial vision stabilization — short-term rest. Full sensory restoration — extended recovery period.
---
The world still swam, shadows smearing into one another, but the words anchored it. The darkness pressing in at the edges of its sight no longer felt like an execution—more like a warning.
A punishment.
So I haven't lost it forever…
Its chest heaved as it exhaled, a shaky breath escaping between blood-streaked fangs. Pain still burned. The pressure behind its eyes still throbbed with every heartbeat. But beneath it all, something fragile stirred.
Relief.
---
{System}
Caution advised.
Repeated backlash events increase the probability of permanent damage. Soul instability thresholds are cumulative.
The lizard lifted its head slightly, forcing its blurred gaze toward Elder One once more. Even through the haze, the cultivator's presence pressed against its senses—unsteady, dangerous, wounded, yet far from finished.
The lizard understood now.
This power was not a shield. Not a miracle.
It was a blade that cut both ways.
And if it swung it again without restraint… the price would no longer be temporary.
The battlefield remained frozen in a fragile stalemate—two beings broken in different ways, each now aware that one more mistake could cost them everything.