Chapter 7 – Bargained Blood, Threatened Light
The sky above the realm of spirits was never truly still. But that day, it trembled—like the wail of an abandoned child—shaking all who dared tread upon it. Enver arrived at the edge of the spiritual vortex of the ancient spirit world just as the ground heaved, and the sky seemed to hold its breath in terror.
Amidst the mist-covered battlefield, Lumina stood alone—gasping, bleeding, surrounded by ancient spirits closing in from every direction. Before her hovered the spirit she had just freed, its hollow eyes wounded by the very freedom it had been given.
"This… isn't what I meant…" Lumina whispered, her cracked voice slicing the air. Her body was bruised, her robes torn like a soul reopening old scars. "I just wanted… to live."
The freed spirit let out a dry laugh—a laugh devoid of meaning or mercy.
"You awakened me without permission. You tore apart the chains that kept this curse dormant. Did you think your good intentions were enough to atone for the blood that will now be spilled?"
Around her, the other spirits began to advance. They weren't just seeking to punish Lumina for releasing what should have remained sealed.
They wanted her blood.
For to them, no human should ever leave this place alive.
Enver stepped forward.
But the Spirit Sovereign—whose form was a silhouette of light and shadow devouring one another—blocked his path.
"No," the Sovereign said, its voice echoing like a bottomless cave. "You are nothing here… unless you give what is owed to us."
Enver narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?"
"Your blood," it answered calmly. "Your blood is not yours. You are no mere human, Hellseer. You are the bridge between death and life. If you seek peace here, let your blood flow—so that it may touch this soil and calm those maddened by vengeance."
Enver stood still.
He knew what that truly meant.
Not just blood. But power. Identity.
His essence, intertwined with life itself.
To give blood would be to weaken himself. To tear off a part of his very soul.
But he turned.
Saw Lumina fighting alone.
Saw her shadow trembling among the roar of spirits.
A girl who hadn't even had the chance to touch the human world—now consumed by the fury of one that was never hers.
"If purification means loss," Enver murmured, "then let it be me who loses."
He unsheathed his sword—not to strike, but to slash open his own palm.
His blood flowed—red and luminous—dripping onto the dark, barren soil of the ancient spirit realm.
The moment his blood touched the ground, the world changed.
The sky paled.
The wind froze.
And the spirits began to scream—some in pain, others weeping like children just learning what it means to lose. The ground cracked open, and light erupted from within, slow and solemn, like something long buried finally remembering the way home.
The freed spirit ceased its attack. Its eyes changed—as if the blood had touched a part of itself forgotten for centuries.
Lumina collapsed to her knees, her body trembling. "What… did you do…?"
Enver walked toward her.
His face was pale, his eyes red—his spiritual energy drained by the sacrifice.
"I offered what only those who've truly lost can give."
The Spirit Sovereign stared at him for a long while.
And for the first time, it bowed its head.
"You… are truly Hellseer. And your blood… shall become a new covenant."
But not all spirits yielded.
The oldest ones, drowned too deep in hatred, began to howl.
"Human blood is no cure. This is deception. This is—"
Yet their voices were swallowed by the light pouring from the earth, filling the air like a hymn from a forgotten age.
Enver fell to his knees.
But he managed to reach out and clasp Lumina's hand.
"Don't repeat that mistake, Lumina. To free something… you must be ready to lose something."
Lumina bit her lip.
Tears welled in her eyes.
"I'm sorry… I only wanted… to prove that humans aren't the enemy."
And in the ever-growing radiance, the spirits' voices began to fade.
Not vanished—never fully.
But silenced enough to allow something they hadn't known in a thousand years:
A peace shaped like silence.