The mantra lingered in Kiaria's breath like a flame held between trembling fingers.
"Sun reveals, path to light–
Moon guides in mourns of night.
Evil hides deep in the shadows,
Empty heart withers in darkest night.
Blind sees everything from afar."
He repeated it again… and again… until the rhythm was no longer recited through memory, but carried through his veins. With each chant, something inside him loosened, then tightened, then broke, then reformed.
Images pulsed behind his eyes–
The Sun: threads of gold tethered to every living thing, radiant paths of will crossing the world.The Moon: reflections of those threads left behind, pale and mourning, illuminating forgotten truths.The Shadows: moaning evils crawling under beauty, feeding on despair.The Empty Heart: hollow spaces where hope has rotted, where light cannot enter.And the Blind: seeing the truth not with sight, but with the heart laid bare.
A shudder raced up Kiaria's spine.
So that's the meaning… The Evil Descends, The Light Ascends.
He breathed in–long and steady.
And at the same time–
The Dragon Emperors were losing.
Their roars grew weaker behind him. Their spiritual pressure thinned like fading storm clouds. Panic flashed through Kiaria.
"No… Grandfathers…!"
He forced his eyes open–
–and the world vanished.
Pitch black.
Not darkness.Blindness.
"Diala–! Grandfathers–!"He couldn't even see himself.
Then–
Pain.
A blade of agony stabbed straight through his skull. Kiaria collapsed onto the wooden vessel floor, fingers clawing at his head.
"AAAHHHHHHHHHH!"
His scream tore through the shattered domain.
The Dragons, the Demon Spirit–everyone froze.
"What now?!" the Golden Dragon barked.
"He's losing his vitality!" the Azure Dragon shouted. "This brat–what did he chant?!"
Kiaria's mouth opened for another scream–but a different noise came first.
A flood of voices–thousands–erupted inside his skull.
Screams of battle.Screams of families torn apart.Children sobbing.Mothers wailing.Curses of dying warriors.Plea for forgiveness.Begging for salvation.Mad laughter.Greed.Lust.Fear.Hatred.Regret.Obsession.
Layers upon layers of sound pressed into his ears until it felt like sharp wires were tearing through his mind.
"No–stop–STOP–!!" Kiaria howled, thrashing. Blood spilled from his ears.
The Demon Spirit floated back slightly, eyes narrowing.
"…These are the screams of Half-Life souls," it murmured. "Why is he hearing them?!"
Kiaria convulsed violently.
His spiritual energy collapsed.His vitality dissipated.His soul flickered like a candle in rain.
But he was not dead.
Not yet.
His body had strength–but no life force. No spiritual roots. Only emptiness remained.
The screaming inside his head grew louder–
"Help me–!""Don't let me die–!""Give it back–my life–my child–my body–!""Kill them! Kill them all!""Please… please…""Forgive me… Father…"
And then–
Silence.
A horrifying, suffocating silence.
As if the world itself had died.
Kiaria gasped, but even his breath sounded distant, muffled, sealed in cotton. His body felt weightless–like something was dragging him downward through a void.
"…where… am I…?"
He tried to speak, but his voice faded into nothing. Even his own name felt lost, drifting away from him.
His mind sank deeper.
Deeper.
As if falling into a black ocean without surface or bottom.
The sensation was familiar–like when he first learned the Beast Mastery technique–but this time, there was no flame of awareness left in him.
Just the empty descent.
Then–
A light.
A faint, trembling glow lit from beneath his skin.
It grew brighter…brighter…BRIGHTER.
A monochromatic misty-white radiance burst from Kiaria's sinking form, spreading through the darkness like dawn tearing open night.
The light swallowed the void.
The darkness cracked apart.
Kiaria's eyes opened–
White.Silent.Still.
He could see.
But not as before.
Everything–the vessel, the corpses, the Dragons, the spirit–appeared through a misty-white filter, as if dipped in pale moonlight. Edges blurred. Movements left faint trails. Even his own hands glowed faintly.
It was not sight.It was Insight.
Kiaria blinked slowly.
Behind the revived corpses, he saw threads–dark as pitch, thin but pulsing–running from their hearts to the Demon Spirit.
"Threads of… obsession…" Kiaria whispered.
The Golden Dragon inhaled sharply. "Impossible… Eyes of Insight?!"
The Azure Dragon muttered, "This child… how deep is his fate?"
Kiaria lifted a hand.
With only his gaze, monochromatic light spread outward like rippling water.
The threads sizzled and snapped.
Each corpse trembled as if something was torn from them.Their chests–where the darkness was anchored–glowed faintly gold for an instant.
Then–
They vanished.
Gone from the domain.Released.
The Demon Spirit jolted forward, clutching at its own chest.
His black armor cracked.Demonic mist evaporated.The scaled fragments fell like ash.
"No–""NO!""What are you doing to me–?!"
Kiaria exhaled.The monochrome world pulsed gently.
"Removing your obsession."
The Demon Spirit's demonic hue dimmed and collapsed.He fell to one knee–then both.
His body shrank, the monstrous aura draining out of him like water from cracked stone.
And when the last thread of darkness left him–
He stood there not as a Demon God…but as a weathered, exhausted man wearing remnants of old battle armor.
The Immortal Spirit Uskilen.
He knelt before Kiaria with both knees pressed firmly to the ground.
"…You have cut the chains I forged with my own hatred. Your mercy restored what I lost."
Kiaria staggered slightly. The monochrome sight flickered–but held.
"Stand, Senior. Tell me… what truly happened here."
Uskilen lowered his head, voice low and ancient.
"Twenty-five millennia ago… after the meteor shower… the Great Grand Marshal entrusted to me a relic. This relic."
He gestured to the transparent cube floating faintly behind Kiaria.
"I was told not to fight beside my sworn brothers–the Dragon Emperors. My task was to protect the relic from demonic taint. But I was… prideful."
Azure Dragon clicked his tongue. "Hmph. Prideful indeed."
Golden Dragon sighed. "He never listened."
Uskilen continued.
"I joined them in battle anyway. In the chaos, the relic was contaminated. And I… was demonized."
He clenched his fists.
"My catastrophe is obsession. The obsession to fight. To win. To share blood and glory with my brothers. That obsession infected the relic."
He looked at Kiaria with guilt carved deep into his features.
"Those who died in that war–those who perished with unresolved desires–were trapped here as Half-Life. Their obsessions fed mine. The relic turned into a prison for them… and for me."
Kiaria listened silently.
Uskilen bowed again, head touching the ground.
"You severed those obsessions. You dispelled my corruption. The tasks set by the Great Grand Marshal… were met by you alone. Thus–"
He lifted the transparent box and presented it with reverence.
"–you are now master of this relic."
The air stilled.
The Dragon Emperors exchanged surprised glances.
Diala, who had finally awoken from meditation, stared with wide eyes. "Kia… you… you broke its curse."
Kiaria let out a trembling breath.
The monochromatic world began to fade. His sight returned slowly, colors bleeding back into edges and shadows.
"We should return," Uskilen said gently.
With a wave of his hand, reality folded–
–and Kiaria and Diala found themselves back inside the Dragon-Tooth Tiger Boat.
Princess Lainsa and Chief Azriel stood there waiting anxiously.
The moment they saw Ghost Shade appear safely, both exhaled in visible relief.
The relic floated beside Kiaria, faintly shimmering.
Its ownership–undeniably his.