Chapter 9 – Bargained Blood
Previously... in Chapter 8:
The Sovereign of Spirits finally agreed to release Lumina from her punishment—but not without a price. Enver was asked to offer part of his blood—the Hellseer's essence capable of crossing the line between life and death. Before the Ancient Spirits, he sliced himself open... and that blood fell not only onto the astral soil, but into a fate now unraveling.
---
That blood... did not simply flow.
It roared.
Each drop held history, the wounds of ages, and the silent songs of the countless souls Enver had purified. And when the spirit sovereign touched it, the astral world shuddered like a newborn handed to its first devourer.
Enver's blood was shared.
Not for peace.
But for power.
The spirits who once bowed now rose.
They drank the red nectar like demons starved for moonlight.
And from within their ethereal forms, something unfamiliar was born—
a new kind of hunger, an uncontrollable desire, a smiling savagery.
> "I... am alive. I AM ALIVE!" screamed one horned spirit, once stripped of power.
Now his body swelled, burning with energy not his own—
but that of the purifier.
Enver stood still atop the stone altar.
His body felt light—too light.
Like a fallen leaf that had lost its season.
Something inside him shattered.
Not by an enemy—
But by betrayal.
> "You... turned my blood into an addiction," he whispered to the Spirit Sovereign.
His voice barely audible,
but the astral world heard.
The sky darkened above—
as if the sun refused to witness such disgrace.
The Sovereign of Spirits gave a faint smile.
"Your blood is not only a blessing, Enver. It is a weapon.
And in war, weapons are not to be cradled... but distributed."
But even he knew:
He had awakened something that should've stayed asleep.
---
Elsewhere, Lumina watched from the ruins of the Eon Pillars.
She wanted to scream, but only heavy, frozen breath came out.
The spirits she had once freed were shifting—
their eyes red, their tongues speaking in the dead language of a world that should no longer exist.
"This… isn't what I wanted," Lumina said,
staring at the very souls she had once saved,
now snarling at her like starving beasts.
One of them—Velmaras, the star-devouring spirit—
pointed a bloodstained fang at her.
> "You! Traitor of the ancient blood!
You revived us... only to let the Hellseer's blood be defiled!"
And with that, they attacked her.
---
The clash of spirits sounded like a storm in a hollow cave.
Lumina held her ground.
But every strike carried a memory.
Every claw against her soul whispered:
> "Your ancestors imprisoned us."
"You inherit betrayal."
"You are no savior—you are a curse reborn."
And amid the chaos,
a voice rose—soft, deep, uncertain:
> "Enough."
Gilancia.
A female spirit with hair of glowing threads—
one of the Sovereign's prime guardians.
She stepped into the fray,
stilling the riot with a single wave of her hand.
Her gaze met Lumina's, then drifted to the blood-stained altar.
> "What are we doing?" she asked.
"We taste the purifier's blood… for what?
Power, or freedom?
We bind new spirits... when we ourselves begged to be unbound."
No one answered.
But the silence that followed
felt like a bullet that pierced not flesh—but belief.
---
Meanwhile, Enver knelt at the altar.
His hands trembled.
In his mind, voices echoed—
the souls he had once purified,
now broken by misused blood.
> "Forgive me…"
"I only wanted peace…"
"Why does my body burn with power not my own?"
Enver clutched his chest—
the place where the Hellseer's essence lived.
And for the first time in his long journey,
he felt... tainted.
> "Purificazione was never a gift.
It was a choice," he whispered.
"And you... stole it."
---
Above the cracking astral sky,
a white spirit-bird soared.
Carrying an unspeakable message—
toward the human realm.
That night, no wind stirred.
The world fell silent.
And the blood…
began to poison all that was once sacred.