Alira pulled the sack off her head when she finally managed to wriggle her way out of the rope loosely tied around her. It took her some time, but not much effort—clearly the kidnappers hadn’t expected her to wake up, let alone have the energy to escape after they smashed her head to sleep.

  Not a hint of the pain from that still lingered with all aches presumably transferred to Sir Cion as yet another late-night surprise. Alira hoped Cion was being paid enough for everything he’d put up since the duke cast the damned Bind on her.

  It was almost pitch-black where she was, with only thin seams of light leaking through the small tears in the tarpaulin that covered them from above. She rubbed her nose to get rid of the itch from the dust that choked the air inside, feeling her fingers grimy and gritty with soot and small splinters. She rolled her finger and felt around the floorboard to determine that the substances were crushed coal—they were probably in a coal cart.

  In the dim light, she noted two figures with her—one sat hunched over to avoid touching the cover overhead with his arms crossed as if he was bored: Raine. The other was smaller, lying still and curled into themself. Too still, in fact, she could barely see their chest rise and fall.

  Alira reached her finger toward their nose when she saw Raine nod in reassurance: they were still alive, at least for now.

  Through a small tear in the fabric, she caught sporadic flashes of wobbly light that seemed to come from a small, moving lantern. Considering the lack of stable streetlights and the fact that she’d long lost her connection with the cast on the card she’d left behind in Astrial, she knew they’d already long left the town. Then, the cart could be on one of the main roads leading out.

  The cultist den in the sewer had already been discovered and uprooted by the Academy. If it was the people who had kidnapped them who were indeed the cultists, discovering the location of their second den would be an unexpected win.

  Alira picked up the ropes and tied them around herself, even a little neater than the kidnappers had, as she waited patiently for them to escort her to their new lair. After what felt like half an hour or so, the cart suddenly took a sharp turn to the right, wheels rolling over things and jolting the entire cart as it seemingly took off the road.

  Raine somehow managed to maintain his position and kept his cool while Alira was forced to throw herself down to not bump into the low roof. All three inside rolled side to side and up and down inside the cart like rocks inside a tossed basket.

  Right to the main road...

  Alira recalled there was nothing but barren land on the right of the main road leading out of Astrail to the Academy. They were on the eastern road that split into three paths to the nearby cities.

  From Raine’s network, they found out that the cases of missing children weren’t just limited to Astrail: Escrest, Hidenn, and Crowz. Sure, children went missing all the time on the streets, but the number exploded in all of three surrounding cities around the same time months ago.

  If the cultists had been responsible for this, it’d make sense for them to establish their ‘storage’ base somewhere between all four cities.

  Alira quickly picked up the sack and covered herself with it when the cart slowed down to a stop. With one last bump, the wheels screeched as they ceased moving. She heard someone jump off the front of the cart, followed by another hefty thump.

  The two outside worked together, moving in a practiced manner to untie and remove the cloth covering the cart. Behind her closed eyelids, Alira couldn’t sense any light from the sky; the moon seemed to have already set.

  “Go throw them into the chamber,” a rough male voice barked. “I need me a drink.”

  Footsteps left, and only a while after the steps faded away, the remaining person snorted. “‘Go throw them into the chamber.’ Fucking making me do everything after he slept like a pig the entire way.”

  Alira was so focused on listening in that she slightly flinched when large, rough hands picked her up by her wrist, almost forgetting to keep up with her unconscious act. Fortunately for her, the man was too busy mumbling curses to himself to notice as he threw her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

  The scent of rot and sweat from the man made her stomach turn. She clenched her jaw tight and held her breath. Her head spun, and it wasn’t just from the position. A tingling heat crawled from her head, caused by something else entirely. It was a familiar sensation—one that came from proximity to a Fellsworn.

  So, it is them.

  She mentally urged the man to walk faster, praying the Corruption value wasn’t climbing too quickly. After a few painfully long minutes in this uncomfortable arrangement, Alira was tossed away into a room, rolling across the cold floor before she hit a soft wall.

  Dammit, can’t he just place me down instead of hauling me like a trash bag?

  As the blunt pain in her side faded away, Alira knew Cion had most likely already informed the duke about her late-night adventures. She just hoped their timing wouldn’t be off if they came for her.

  Footsteps left her before a door slammed shut, but no sound of a lock followed. Alira decided to stay where she was for now. Her teeth chattered at the cold that seeped through the sack and her layers of clothes. It felt like the kind of unnatural cold that came not from outside but from deep inside your bones.

  Soon enough, the man returned, threw another body into the cell, and left to make the third and final trip.

  He slammed the door and spent a minute fumbling with the lock. Alira got up and freed herself just in time to see a metal panel sliding open at the base of the door. A flat tray with lumps of slop was pushed inside before the slot clanked shut. Footsteps faded away as the man left them behind for the last time.

  She called once she was sure the man had left.

  [This Pure Soul of Staywes asks for Judgement.]

  ※

  Name [Alira Ravon]

  Soul Corruption [25.2% ^]

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  ※

  “Shit,” Alira hissed.

  She turned to Raine, but he didn’t seem to care too much as he approached the soft ‘wall’ Alira had bumped into instead: a young boy who seemed to be fast asleep. With a sigh, she walked up to the tray of what she guessed was supposed to be their next meal.

  “Looks like they’re planning to keep us here for a while,” she said.

  “He’s unconscious,” Raine replied. “Not a cast. I don’t sense any mana either.”

  Alira hummed, poking a long fingernail at the brownish grey mush. She sniffed her finger, and her face scrunched up at the smell of spoiled vegetables and some sort of fish that’d gone bad. It was terrible, but the more concerning thing was the fact that she didn’t sense any Fellsworn mana, and her Corruption value wasn’t going up any faster.

  She used Narrate on the meal tray.

  [ A ‘special’ meal that has been many a soul’s last supper: a blend of herbs grown under the influence of Fellsworn mana and the flesh of blasphemous beasts. Once consumed, the soul lost to corruption best remains in eternal slumber, as only through the worst sin shall it reawaken. ]

  “Worst sin...” Alira mumbled. She guessed it likely meant the process of Rebirth. With heavy steps, she approached the young boy and used Narrate on him.

  [ A young soul long lost to corruption. Bestow mercy and spare it the fate of timeless redemption. Bestow mercy and save the soul’s final thread before it snaps. May it rest in peace and return to Staywes anew. ]

  “He’s gone,” Alira declared. “It’s the food.”

  With a heavy exhale, she placed her hand on the boy’s bony, small face. The only way for him to wake up again was to become a Fellsworn, and after that, what awaited him was a difficult life and an even more difficult death where he’d serve as a Spirit Familiar for what could be an eternity.

  “I’m so sorry for making the choice for you,” she whispered to him. “But I really hope you agree with what I think is the best...because there’s no going back.”

  There was little to no mana in the cell. She couldn’t manifest gold even with the Loch’s Blessing. She brought a few vials of blood, but not quite enough to cast what she wanted. She still had to save them for herself and Raine. Bringing out the butterfly knife hidden beneath her skirt, she swung it open and sliced it across her palm. It closed up almost instantly, the pain fading before she could wince, but not quite fast enough as a few drops of blood spilled onto the cold stone floor.

  “Is there really no way to save him?” Raine asked.

  Alira didn’t answer, and that was enough of an answer. There was no remedy against late stage Corruptions—not even an Imperial Healing Mage would be able to savage his soul if such a mage existed.

  She poured all but three of her blood vials and traced her finger to draw out a cast, the biggest one she’d ever drawn. When the blood lines became too thin, she cut herself again and again until the drawing was completed.

  Alchemy was something that wasn’t to be understood wholly, even after centuries of studies and dissection. For once, she couldn’t make sense of how something like Life Exchange was an initial rank ten cast—a cast even the lowest alchemist could attempt and most definitely fail at the recipient’s strong resistance. That was, of course, unless the recipient couldn’t resist at all.

  Alira plucked a wildflower growing between the cracks of the floor.

  “They say after someone dies, Setting Sun shall take them in for a couple of days and nights before guiding their soul to Spawned Life on Saturday’s first ray of light.”

  She knew that was totally true for all souls of Staywes that hadn’t been completely corrupted—Raine had sought out one of his dead ‘friends,’ and with the whispers from the Divinities themselves, he’d found and seen the reincarnation of said ‘friend’.

  “So, Raine, put a word in for him on your next prayer,” she said, her voice solemn. “Let him be born as a noble or something so he doesn’t die young again.”

  “I will,” Raine promised.

  Alira triggered the cast at that, and instantly the wilted flower between her finger sprung to life, small roots extending for just a second. Then, there was nothing more. She held herself back from using Narrate on the deceased boy, not feeling right about it. Giving the boy a moment of silence, she noted that she didn’t really feel so much about the life she had just ended.

  Probably because he’s already half-dead...

  “Let’s get moving.” She got up to her feet. “I don’t want to see anyone else visiting Setting Sun tonight.”

  “What do we do with her?”

  “Well...” Alira turned toward the third person in the room, the girl whom they had shared the uncomfortable ride here with, and found her somehow facing a wall furthest away from them. “We can start by telling her to get up and stop pretending to be asleep, or I’ll whoop her ass.”

  “I’m awake. I’m awake.” The girl scrambled up and faced the two with an awkward smile. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to disturb you two and thought it’s best if I’m out of...that,” she said, eyes darting to the young boy whom Raine had covered up with his cloak.

  Alira squinted her eyes, carefully taking in every inch of the girl—a young woman with a delicate and refined look that didn’t match her ragged clothes. Her light green, chin-length hair framed her face in soft, layered waves, with longer strands at the sides. That, paired with a vivid shade of violet, had an elegant and mysterious air that just didn’t scream ‘kidnapped urchin’.

  “So, how did you get here?” Alira asked.

  “Same as you guys. I think,” she said, “I was on my way back home and next thing I knew, I was here.”

  “What’s your name?”

  “Dera! Well met. Oh, maybe not much,” Dera said, scratching her face in awkwardness.

  “Well, Dera, you’re following us, and we’ll leave together just like we came here,” Alira decided. There was something about the girl that made Alira think it was best to bring her along, and it wasn’t the desire to protect her or the reluctance to leave the girl behind by herself.

  “Oh, oh. Sure! Cool! I definitely wouldn’t say no to that,” she said with a nervous ha-ha. “My younger siblings would get all anxious if I’m missing for too long, especially my baby sister—she’s still very young and a bit clingy. So, please, do lead the way out for me.”

  Why’s she telling me all that? And despite what she says, she doesn’t look the least bit worried.

  Alira’s eyes narrowed slightly, and she considered using Narrate on the girl but decided against it. She couldn’t afford to waste time on less urgent matters. Instead, she shifted her focus to the dry black wall with layers of dead moss. Narrate worked on not just people and artifacts, but also the meal tray just now. It seemed a Character could just be literally anything physically present at the moment.

  She closed her eyes in concentration—Narrate this cell.

  [ A space reeked of death where fewer than four lives stood. The place where the living shouldn’t linger for too long. Many had tried to escape before, but most were unfortunate souls incapable of escaping even with a path found. ]

  “A path found...”

  She focused on the way out and Narrate the walls around her.

  [ Walls with old stones that’d seen more than they’re willing to. They aged from terror and grief, weathering away as they loosen their resolution. The stones chipped at themselves, hoping their unstable footing would aid the small, malnourished bodies in pushing them aside and breaking them down to possible salvation. ‘Go ahead. Kick at my legs. I will crumble for your escape.’ ]

  Alira crouched as she circled the room, hand shoving at the walls near the floor before finding a loose section soon enough. She placed her ears flat on the wall, and only when she didn’t hear any movement on the other side did she back away.

  “Kick there hard, Raine,” she said, pointing at the spot.

  Raine raised his feet and kicked the stones directly out of the way, sending them flying. The line of the wall collapsed with a cloud of dust. When the air settled down, a gap just wide enough to go through greeted them.

  “Good boy,” Alira said with two pats on the back of Raine’s head. Ignoring his glare, she bent to see a dark hallway on the other side. She couldn’t help letting out another long sigh.

  Second tour inside the cultists’ home.

  Is it too much to hope they’re a bit more hospitable this time round?