The Third Return of the Necrotic Magic Armiger Chapter 158 – Ashes of Rebirth, Chains of Sovereignty

Evan stirred with a quiet groan, lifting himself from the scorched earth after a few minutes of rest. His body ached, his breath heavy—but that wasn't what caught his attention first.

It was his gear.

A glance downward told the tale of the brutal clash he'd endured.

What was once armour—albeit a ragged coat reinforced with minor plates—was now nothing more than torn fabric and shattered remnants.

His twin swords had been annihilated in the final clash, reduced to fragnts.

His shield lay in ruins sowhere amid the rubble, and his dagger set had been scorched beyond repair. Even his spear, one of his more durable weapons, was bent near the tip, rendered almost unusable.

"Tch," Evan muttered under his breath. "Guess I'll be shopping after this hell ends."

But for now, there was still unfinished business.

Nine bodies—his fallen foes—had been neatly lined up by his summons. They hovered nearby, silently scanning the area in all directions, ensuring no trace of the Controller could escape. This place needed to be purged, and Evan wouldn't let his prey slither away.

He stepped toward the corpses, eyes cold and unreadable.

It was ti for his ritual. The sa one he had perford countless tis before on every worthy enemy he felled.

He extended a hand.

"[Plunder]," he commanded.

In response, dark strings of energy burst from his body, intertwining with one another before lashing out—binding to the nine decaying corpses and wrapping them in an eerie cocoon of shimring, pulsing light.

The tendrils vibrated softly, as if breathing, as they began the extraction process.

A familiar series of system notifications echoed into his mind.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

▣ [System Notification] ▣

[Detected 9× Lv.100 Undead Bodies (Rotten & Damaged)]

[What do you wish to do?]

[Host has selected: ▸ Plunder]

✦ Plundering Initiated...✦

Due to the Host's current Talent Rank, several plunderable items have not been extracted.

✦ No compatible Bloodlines found.

✦ Proceeding with extraction of available: Stats, Talents, Abilities, and Skills...

[Stats Absorbed ➤ 145 STR | 168 AGL | 201 INT | 131 VIT | 154 END | 17 SPT]

[Talent Acquired ➤ ▸ SwordHeart Resonance (C)]

[Ability Acquired ➤ ▸ Keen Eyes (Passive, A)]

[Elental Energy Assimilated ➤ Integrated with host's Ability: Elental Manipulation]

→ 53% Fire | 12% Earth | 56% Ice | 76% Darkness | 22% Shadow

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The final wave of energy returned to his body, leaving the withered corpses behind—drained husks of what once stood against him.

Evan exhaled, his body surging briefly with the influx of newfound strength.

The stat boosts were imdiately noticeable, but what truly caught his eye was the last stat—Spirit.

"Seventeen points…" he murmured, narrowing his eyes thoughtfully.

He scanned the bodies, quickly identifying one particular corpse—the Book-wielding Undead. That one… yes, he felt it. That was likely the source of the Spirit stat. A caster-type Undead, probably empowered with ntal resilience or arcane resistance. It made sense.

His gaze moved on to the other rewards.

Two new acquisitions.

A rare smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he opened both panels to review the newly absorbed Talent and Ability—a C-rank resonance, and an A-rank passive. Both, potentially ga changers for what lies ahead.

And Evan knew exactly what was coming.

The real battle hadn't even begun yet.

The Controller was still out there—watching, hiding, planning.

And Evan? He was just getting ward up.

__

[Talent: Swordheart Resonance

Rank: C

Type: Passive / Sword-Type

Description:

Once a fad talent born from the echoes of ancient swordmasters, Swordheart Resonance was originally a rare S-Rank talent, said to connect its bearer to the very soul of the blade. But over countless generations, ti and bloodshed dulled its brilliance—corroded by war and forgotten practice, it now lies dormant as a C-Rank echo of its forr self.

Yet, in the hands of a true sword cultivator, this talent can evolve once more—growing stronger as the user treads deeper into the path of the Sword Master.

Effects:

➤ Slightly enhances sword comprehension rate during ditation and combat.

➤ When wielding a sword, increases training efficiency by 30%.

➤ Every ti the user overcos a bottleneck or defeats a stronger opponent with a sword,

there is a small chance of triggering a Sword Intent Spark (temporary boost in understanding).

➤ Can hear the "heartbeat" of their sword, allowing for more natural flow and adaptation in techniques.]

__

[Ability: Keen Eyes – A Rank

Type: Perception | Precision | Bloodline Innate

Nature: Passive | Evolvable

Description:

Once hailed as an elite S-Rank bloodline gift passed down through the elven ranger clans of the forgotten forest realms, Keen Eyes allowed the host to lock onto prey miles away, count arrows in flight, and pierce illusions with a glance. Although ti and dilution of bloodline have corroded its potential, it remains a formidable passive gift for any marksman.

🔹 Core Traits and Effects

• Hawk Sight (Passive):

Vision range and clarity are greatly enhanced.

➤ See up to 4x farther than normal.

➤ Track subtle enemy movents, projectiles, and terrain shifts with great detail.

➤ Reduces accuracy penalties from distance or low-light environnts.

• Trajectory Insight (Passive):

Predicts the arc, timing, and landing point of moving or launched objects.

➤ 25% increased accuracy with all ranged weapons.

➤ Grants real-ti calculation support for sniping, leading shots, or deflection.]

__

Evan's gaze lingered on the two new abilities that now glead within his status window, a subtle glint of satisfaction flashing across his eyes. His quiet mont of triumph was interrupted by a familiar chi from the system.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

▣ [System Notification] ▣

[You've reached the Level Experience Limit.] ×5

[You've Levelled Up.] ×5

[Stats Gained ➤ 5 SPT | 75 INT | 35 VIT | 100 Unassigned Stats | 25 All (Physique)][EEP Gained ➤ 1,164 | Total EEP: 19,532]

[Skill Fragnts Gained ➤ 132 | Total: 174]

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"Only five levels?" he muttered with a frown, rubbing the side of his temple.

For any other Awakener, the experience harvested from nine high-level Undead would've been enough to jump sixteen levels or more. But for him, the threshold had long outgrown the realm of the ordinary.

The EXP cost of evolution wasn't just rising—it was ballooning. Frustrating, yes. But there was no denying it... Every step forward was a leap above his peers.

With a tired sigh, Evan pulled off his cracked and worn mask. Its once sleek surface was now scratched and chipped, evidence of the chaos it had endured.

He glanced at the nine bodies, their twisted forms now still forever. It was ti for one more attempt—one more extraction.

Holding the mask in both hands, he approached the corpse of the Demi-Archer and gently placed the mask onto its face.

The system's response was imdiate.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

▣ [System Notification] ▣

[Ding! Detected: Ability 'mory Devour' Activated.]

[Target's ntal state is too damaged—mories cannot be recovered.]

[Ability Use Failed.]

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The mask flew off the corpse as if spat out, landing softly back into Evan's hand. He stared at it in silence.

"…Figures," he muttered.

Undeterred, he moved from body to body, placing the mask against each one. Each ti, the result was the sa—no usable mory, no trace of identity. Just empty husks devoid of any lingering soulprint.

Until only one remained.

The Swordmaster.

Evan approached the corpse slowly, a flicker of hope igniting in his chest. If anyone's mory could still hold aning, it would be him.

He pressed the mask onto the Swordmaster's face.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

▣ [System Notification] ▣

[Ability: 'mory Devour' in Process…]

[Target has been deceased for an extended period. Severe mory corrosion detected.]

[Usable mories Extracted ➤ 103 Years]

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"Yes…" Evan whispered, clutching the mask tighter. "That's enough. That's more than enough."

He pulled the mask free and gave it a quick polish with a cloth, then snapped his fingers. Flas sparked at his feet and spread to the corpses.

"I don't need you rising again," he said grimly.

Despite his skills in necromancy, none of the Undead were responding to him. It was like they had no will left—not even the remnants required to be enslaved once more.

He turned back to the mask and took a breath. "System, show only the sword-related training and battles. Filter out everything else."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

▣ [System Notification] ▣

[Processing Request...]

[mory Segnts Scanned: Complete]

[Filtered Results: 14 Months and 23 Days of Valuable Sword Training and Combat Recorded]

[Do you wish to simulate the mory?]

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

'Yes. Do it quickly. If that damn Controller runs off, I'm going to lose my mind.' Evan slid the mask back over his face.

The mont he did, the crystal embedded at the crown of the mask pulsed—and the world around him dissolved.

His vision twisted.

Then, he was there.

Another ti. Another life.

He stood in the body of the Swordmaster, witnessing every step of his brutal training—sword swings repeated thousands of tis under crushing heat, techniques practised until muscle mory carved them into the bones.

He fought countless opponents—n, monsters, and things in between. He refined his aura, studied sword principles, and mastered multiple styles. Each mont, a grind against death. Each duel, a test of edge versus instinct.

The sword arts were beautiful, brutal, and precise.

But… fragnted.

Corroded by ti.

Most of the deeper techniques were lost—only ghostly silhouettes remained. Even the final slash the Swordmaster had used on Evan? Only half-rembered. A shadow of its forr self.

Still, Evan persisted through every fragnt, every swing, until the final mory.

He was watching himself.

His own battle—through the Swordmaster's eyes.

And there, he realised a haunting truth:

The Controller hadn't granted that warrior the chance to fight from the start.

No. He'd only been allowed to awaken when Evan taunted him, when Evan pushed him beyond the pale. The rest of the ti, he had been a puppet. Controlled. Shackled.

The final puzzle began forming in Evan's mind. He saw glimpses of the others he'd fought—Tier 3 elites, all of them—and how they'd ended up here.

But one thing remained maddeningly out of reach: The identity of their master.

Every ti the Swordmaster's mories drifted near the face of the one he served… they faded. Distorted. Blocked.

And Evan felt that fury burn in his chest again.

By the ti the simulation ended, Evan fell forward, knees to the ground. He clutched his head, breath ragged.

It was like living two lives at once.

The weight of 103 years pressed against his mind—but he bore it.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

▣ [System Notification] ▣

[You have successfully lived through a mory Simulation of Sword Training and Battle.]

[Sword Proficiency Increased Significantly.]

▸ Sword Mastery: {D 43%} → {C 99%}

[Progression Blocked: Advanced Proficiency Requires Mana Control Refinent.]

[Recomndation: Form Core to continue progressing along the path of the Sword.]

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"…Got it," Evan whispered, rising with a hand on his knee. "Core formation next. Then I keep going."

He scanned the dark terrain. His summoned forces had scattered, combing the area for hidden paths or danger. Eventually, they discovered it—an oddly-shaped cave, narrow and dark. Barely wide enough for a single man to squeeze through.

Evan stood before it. His summons hesitated.

He glanced down at one of them—an ordinary skeleton.

"Go."

The summon trembled as the cave exhaled a wave of pressure. Ancient power slithered out like cold mist, oppressive and thick.

Still, Evan didn't retract the order.

Reluctantly, the skeleton stepped forward, one cautious shuffle after another, vanishing into the shadowed crevice.

Ti passed. Nearly half an hour later, the summon erged again—intact, but trembling.

Evan frowned. "What's in there?"

The summon's expression was unreadable, but Evan could tell—the presence within the cave was overwhelming. Whatever was inside… wasn't natural.

He nodded.

"Alright. My turn."

He stepped forward, the cave looming like the maw of so long-dead beast. But Evan wasn't one to back down.

He motioned the skeleton to stay ahead of him and pressed on.

Toward the unknown light.

Toward the cave's core.

Toward the next storm waiting to unfold.

As the last rays of pale light flickered in the eerie cave, Evan exhaled sharply. His summons had returned unhard, confirming that the strange energy ahead wasn't imdiately fatal—but it was sothing far beyond normal.

Without wasting another mont, Evan recalled his summon into his storage space and began stepping deeper into the cave's heart. He kept his senses heightened, his muscles coiled and ready to burst into motion. Every step forward made the air denser, heavier—as if pressing down on his very soul.

And then, in the center of the vast cavern, he saw it.

His breath hitched.

"...What...?"

Suspended in the middle of the chamber, bound by shimring chains embedded in the walls, was a creature of legend. Majestic even in death—its feathers once radiant now dulled, its wings broken and scorched—was a Phoenix.

A divine beast, a myth whispered in ancient tales.

But this one… was dead.

Its once-glorious body radiated not warmth but deathly chill, corrupted by necrotic energy. The flas it exuded weren't golden or red—they were ashen grey and black, radiating an aura that could freeze the soul rather than burn it.

Evan instinctively stepped closer—but the mont he breached a certain distance, the Phoenix's body erupted in a burst of black fla, forcing him back.

"Shi...!"

The explosion consud the entire chamber, leaving nothing untouched. The walls trembled, and even the air itself seed to scream. But rather than heat, the inferno exhaled cold fury—a fire born of death itself.

Startled by the overwhelming phenonon, Arven erged from his dormant state, appearing beside Evan with a dark and serious expression.

"Kid… you either have unimaginable luck or cursed fate," Arven muttered. "That's no ordinary Phoenix. What you're seeing is a Deathfire Phoenix, a variant of the ancient species infused with death and soul-burning flas. It's Tier 4… far beyond what should even exist in the Zeroth Expanse. Even I'm surprised."

Evan's mouth went dry. "Tier 4? That's... impossible. The Nexus has strict rules—nothing above Tier 0 should even be here."

"Rules," Arven scoffed, "are written by those who break them first."

As Evan tried to process it all, a soft white mist began to rise from the Phoenix's lifeless form. It coalesced… shaped… and took the form of a woman.

A breathtaking one.

Pale, pearl-like skin. Deep, ember-black eyes that seed to look through ti. Ethereal and divine—and yet… broken.

The soul of the Phoenix.

She looked at Evan with a mixture of sorrow and curiosity. "Another anomaly… before my soul disperses. You possess the sa elent as I did—Death—and you've survived my flas despite the damage caused by my guards. Impressive."

In the blink of an eye, she appeared directly before him, her presence suffocating. Evan instinctively took a step back.

'No escape routes…' he cursed internally.

"Calm yourself," she spoke gently. "I'm no longer a threat to you. My soul barely lingers… I may have given you my legacy, but…"

She trailed off.

Evan's brows furrowed. "But what?"

"It's already gone," she said bitterly. "Taken… by soone else. If only you had arrived a little earlier, you would have been the rightful heir. Your Death Elent… It's stronger than or equal to mine. And also stronger than many people I've seen. But my soul was fading… and he was the only one who appeared."

Evan's heart twisted. "You just gave it to him? Even though he didn't earn it?"

"No. He ca through a backdoor—bypassed the entire trial I set for a successor. But I had no choice. None ca before him… no one worthy. I had no strength left to keep waiting."

She paused, her eyes distant with regret.

"But you… you cleared the challenge. You defeated my guardians. You would have been the rightful one."

Realisation struck Evan like a hamr.

'Kael… That bast**d must have stumbled upon this place. She gave him the legacy by default. And from the look of it… he didn't even earn it.'

Arven spoke beside him, voice calm but firm: "So the fad Kael got a legacy he didn't deserve. Typical. But don't feel defeated, kid. You've got more potential than you realise."

Evan clenched his jaw. "So… there's nothing left here? Nothing you can give ?"

The soul-woman nodded solemnly. "Even the flas you see burning on my corpse—they're corrupted. Twisted by necrotic energy. The pure part of my fla… the one ant for my successor… I gave it to that boy. What's left now is too unstable. Even soone like you would be incinerated."

Evan's eyes remained locked on the flas. They danced and flickered like shadows of a dying sun—violent, consuming, tragic.

"So… he got the legacy. I got nothing."

"Not quite," Arven interjected, grinning. "You got . And you've got Death in its truest form. She thinks no one can wield those flas now, but she doesn't know what and who you are."

Evan smirked.

He stepped forward.

The soul-woman's eyes widened. "What are you doing?! Stop! That fire will burn your soul to ash!"

Evan ignored her.

Because Arven whispered just one thing in his mind:

"Say it. Say the phrase I gave you. It's ti."

Evan took a deep breath, the ghostly flas reflecting in his eyes like dying stars in a stormy sky. But Evan didn't say anything, being imrsed in sothing.

He stepped closer to the chained Phoenix corpse—closer to the inferno of ashen-black fire that was never ant for mortal hands. The woman's soul essence hovered nearby, watching him with conflicted intensity.

Raising his hand, Evan reached toward the writhing embers burning deep within the Phoenix's shattered chest.

And the mont his palm got near—

FWOOM!

The flas reacted.

Like a predator recognising kin—or a weapon drawn to a worthy wielder—they lunged at him, wrapping around his body in a spiral of living deathfire. The corrupted Phoenix flas roared as they surged into him, recognising the compatibility seeded within his unique physique and talent.

But this was no reward.

It was a trial by tornt.

As the flas fully engulfed him, Evan's body was instantly scorched, his flesh blistering, cracking, and then… burning clean through.

"AAAAAARRRGHHH!!"

His scream echoed through the cavern, filled with agony so raw it pierced even the air.

The soul of the Phoenix—a being long dead—watched, her expression unreadable.

'I told this fool not to ddle with what was beyond his grasp... If he dies, that's not on .'

But even she couldn't look away.

Arven, however, stood calmly at a distance, waiting. Watching. His expression was unwavering.

"Now… begin."

Inside the hellfire, Evan was breaking apart.

Every cell in his body felt like it was being shredded and reborn again—only to be shredded once more. The corrupted fla was testing him. Judging him.

'Arven! Is this really going to work?!' he scread ntally, barely hanging onto consciousness.

"You want to walk the path of the Death Monarch, don't you? Then burn, Evan. Let your body break, and rise anew."

Just when it felt like death was inevitable—

––

[System Notification]

╓────────────────────────────╖

[Talent: has activated]

╙────────────────────────────╜

➤ Body resistance to corrupted fla: Rising rapidly…

➤ Host's fla resistance: Slightly increased

➤ Cellular regeneration: Slightly increased

➤ Acquired Skill: [Lv.1]

––

The notification flashed amidst the chaos.

It was like water to a dying man in a desert of fire.

The flas still tore at him, but now… his body began fighting back.

His cells adapted.

He healed.

He resisted.

Minutes beca an hour.

––

[System Update]

➤ Fla resistance: Moderately increased

➤ Cellular regeneration: Moderately increased

➤ has reached Lv.63 ↑

––

Evan, though battered, was still standing. Charred, panting, but alive. His screams faded to grunts. His agony dulled to an ache. The pain was there, but it was no longer his master.

The flas, sensing his defiance, finally submitted.

They spiralled inward and began rging with him—no longer consuming, but fusing.

––

[System Notification]

╓═══════════════════════════╖

[Ashen DuskFla]⤷ Corrupted Phoenix Fla Recognised

╙═══════════════════════════╜

➤ Fla Affinity Verified via [Supre Adaptation]

➤ A compatible container is required within the host body…

➤ Searching for vessel...✔ Match Found: [Elental Manipulation – Fire]

➤ Would you like to displace standard Fire Elent with [Ashen DuskFla]?

––

'Do it,' Evan thought, eyes burning like coals. 'I didn't endure all this to walk away empty-handed.'

He ntally confird the prompt.

At once, the dark flas surged inward, flowing through his core like a living tide and vanishing into the depths of his soul.

And then… silence.

He opened his system screen, still trembling.

His ability panel shimred—and there it was.

The [Fire Elent] section under had changed.

Instead of glowing red, it now pulsed with an eerie grey hue. The na had shifted.

◆

→ Rank: F (New Integration)

→ Status: Incomplete Bonding Phase

→ Warning: Fla is corrupted by death-energy. Use with caution.

His previous Fire elent—which had nearly reached E —had regressed to its base stage, completely overwritten by the Phoenix's corrupted legacy fla.

Evan stood still.

Steam curled from his skin. His clothes were half-burnt. His eyes—now sharper, colder—locked onto the chained body of the Phoenix one last ti.

"…Then I didn't leave empty-handed after all."

The soul-woman watched in silent awe. For the first ti since her death… she smiled.

"Perhaps… I chose wrong."

[Ashen Duskfla:

Proficiency: 01.46% (F)

Type: Elental Variant

Description:

Ashen Duskfla is a cursed fla born from the soul of a Death Variant Phoenix. This fire does not burn with light but devours with silence. Unlike ordinary flas, it manifests as ashen grey fire laced with necrotic darkness, consuming vitality, will, and soul essence. Corrupted by ti and destruction, this Phoenix's fla has beco a unique force, tied directly to the user's soul.

As a high-level fla variant integrated into the Elental Manipulation (SSS) ability, Ashen Duskfla grants control over necrotic fire with devastating effects against both the living and the undead.

🔹 Core Traits & Effects

• Soulburn

Fla-based attacks now deal necrotic soul damage over ti.

➤ Deals 10% of base magic damage over 5 seconds to the enemy soul.

➤ Reduces healing and soul regeneration by 30%.

➤ Enemies slain under this effect cannot be revived unless by Tier 5 resurrection.

• Black Ash Revival

Upon complete bodily destruction, the user is reborn through fla.

➤ Revives at 20% HP from a fla cocoon if utterly destroyed.

➤ Inflicts [Soul Burn] and [Fear] to all enemies within 10 ters.

➤ Only triggers if the soul is intact and the cooldown has passed.🕒 Cooldown: 30 days.

• Ashen Fla Control

The user gains complete mastery over Ashen Duskfla as a fla type:

➤ Form necrotic fla weapons, walls, traps, or ranged projectiles.

➤ Override standard fire spells with necrotic effects.

➤ May absorb ambient death mana to strengthen flas temporarily.

• Aura of the Withering Fla

When manifested, Ashen Duskfla releases a soul-devouring aura:

➤ -10% to enemy defence, -15% to enemy mana recovery.

➤ Nearby undead may kneel or stop aggression.

➤ Weak-minded foes may suffer fear or a ntal breakdown within a 10m radius.

• Necrotic Corrosion

Fla attacks now passively corrode target resistances:

➤ Each hit reduces magic resistance, armour, and regen by 5% (Stacks 5x).

➤ Highly effective vs enchanted armour, summoned creatures, and undead lords.]

__

The flas within Evan flared once more—this ti, not in rejection, but as if celebrating their new master.

A violent burst of fire erupted from his body, igniting the air around him in a storm of chaotic, devouring fla. The ashen blaze coiled around his figure like a beast made of death, threatening to consu anything that dared to approach.

From afar, the Phoenix Lady stood silently, her expression grim.

"That boy's body… he's done for."

His skin had blackened, charred beyond recognition. The sudden flare of energy could only an one thing—his vessel had been rejected. She turned to return to her corpse, prepared to seal away her remaining soul essence before it was too late.

But then…

The flas did sothing… strange.

They didn't rush back to her.

They spiralled back into Evan.

"What…?"

Her eyes widened.

"No… No way."

The fire that had once belonged to her—the sacred, Phoenix fla now corrupted—was now being drawn into him, absorbed fully into his body like it had found its rightful ho.

And then—a radiant pulse of life erupted from his body.

His charred skin began to heal at a speed that defied logic by his talent.

Muscles reford. Flesh regenerated. His complexion returned, healthier than ever. In re monts, Evan stood tall, cracks vanishing, life pulsing through every inch of him.

From the ashes… he rose again.

The Phoenix Lady stared in disbelief as Evan casually dusted himself off.

Then he noticed her presence—right in front of him.

"AH! W-Whoa, what are you doing there?!" Evan stumbled back, half-naked, before pulling out a shirt from his inventory and slipping it on.

"Who are you..." She said in straight words with a serious face.

"Huh? Oh… right. I forgot to introduce myself."

He smiled nonchalantly, as if he hadn't just risen from a furnace of death.

"Na's Evan. I ca looking for opportunities. Looks like I just found one."

The woman's eyes narrowed.

"Kid, don't joke with . You've just absorbed my flas. Even in my current state, I could erase you with a thought."

She raised her hand, and a terrifying pressure exploded from her soul. The air trembled. The walls of the cave cracked.

Even the undead roaming the distant tunnels trembled and groaned in fear.

Evan dropped to one knee, gasping. The pressure was too much. He could barely breathe.

But then—

SNAP.

With a flick of unseen force, the entire pressure vanished—like it had never existed.

The Phoenix Lady blinked.

Evan blinked.

Then… sothing shifted in the air.

The soul-woman gasped as her entire body was forced down, her knees crashing into the stone floor. Her face contorted in disbelief and terror.

What—?!

She looked up, searching for the source of the overwhelming suppression—

But there was nothing.

Just Evan… standing freely now, unhard.

"No… It's happening again. That thing... It's blocking . Even after death?"

Chains slithered faintly along her limbs, bound by her own essence. And then—

A voice.

Calm. Cold. Inescapable.

"Arven, that's enough. Don't break her soul entirely—we might need her."

Evan's voice snapped her out of her spiral. But when she turned to his direction, expecting another trick…

Instead, a shadow materialised in mid-air.

A spectral figure.

Silver hair tied back. Dark robe fluttering in unseen wind. Glowing, hollow eyes locked onto her.

The presence radiating from him made her soul shudder.

'What… is this? A soul form? No—sothing else. Sothing far more ancient…'

"You shouldn't have tried to attack him," Arven said calmly. "Now you'll bear the consequences."

Her pride surged. She growled.

"You dare mock , you little spirit? I am a Tier 4 Immortal Phoenix—above even my own peers! You think you can bring to my knees?! I'll end you!"

She summoned her remaining strength, preparing to burn her final fragnt of soul to unleash a last strike.

But…

Nothing happened.

The power wouldn't respond.

She gasped.

"What… what's going on?!"

"Hm." Arven tilted his head.

"You were trying to burn your last soul fragnt, weren't you? Bold, but stupid."

Her eyes widened.

He knew?

"You see, I've already sealed that option. Your soul is fractured, weak, and on the verge of collapse. One more outburst, and you'd vanish forever. But… I need information."

He floated forward, his presence pressing into her very soul like chains of fate.

"Also… let's be honest," he smirked. "Even if you were whole, you'd never escape . So be a good phoenix. Cooperate."

The Phoenix Lady's body trembled.

She lowered her head.

"…Yes… sir."

The soul pressure lifted instantly.

She exhaled shakily.

Arven descended slowly, stopping just above her kneeling form.

"Well done," he said with a nod. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"

His tone turned sharp.

"Now—start talking. Tell us everything. How did you get here? Why did you go berserk when Evan healed? All of it."

She looked up at him.

Then… slowly, silently… she began to speak.

-- To be Continued --