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Adrian was inside the body of the corrupted moth.
The world around him was nothing but darkness. The air was thick, suffocating, and he could feel himself slowly being dissolved by the creature's vile essence. His death seemed certain. His body was mangled, his flesh torn, and even his mind was beginning to fade.
Yet, at that moment, something strange began to happen—something completely unexpected.
The corrupted moth had once taken over Adrian's mother, using her as a vessel to move freely among humans. But the process of taking over a vessel was never perfect. Fragments of the original soul always remained—small, weak traces of the former will that once inhabited the body. Normally, those fragments would be too faint to matter, like dying embers on cold ash.
But this time was different.
The moth was weakened. Its body had been torn apart by Aldric's explosions, its wings scorched, its essence fractured from the earlier battles with the caravan. It was at its weakest point.
And in that moment of desperation, it decided to devour Adrian—his soul, his body, his life force—hoping to use it all to restore its power.
But when it reached for Adrian's soul, something deep within its vessel stirred.
The faint, long-buried will of Adrian's mother awakened.
It was a flicker at first, then a flame that burned brighter and brighter. A mother's will—one that could not stand by and watch her child be devoured by the same creature that had destroyed her—rose with defiance.
Though it was a mere fragment, her love and determination burned through the darkness.
The moth screeched internally as the two forces clashed within its soul space—a chaotic storm of essence and will.
The corrupted moth's dark soul and Adrian's mother's fragmented soul collided violently, tearing through the inner space of the creature. And caught between them was Adrian himself.
His very soul trembled under the weight of their power. His consciousness flickered between clarity and haze, his thoughts dissolving into chaos.
But even in that chaos, he could sense it.
He could see it.
The nature of souls. The flow of essence. The contrast between light and dark. Two souls from entirely different origins—one of corruption, one of humanity—fighting for dominance.
And in that instant, something within Adrian shifted.
He began to understand.
He was an arcanist who had chosen the sword path—a martial route that honed body and weapon as one. But now, he was witnessing something far beyond physical combat. He was seeing the true nature of existence, the fundamental essence of power that lay within souls.
He felt his consciousness stretch, expand, and grasp at something deeper.
It was as if the fragments of knowledge he had gathered throughout his life suddenly connected—like scattered stars forming a constellation.
From that convergence, he comprehended something new. Something forbidden.
A path that had never been walked before.
A path that drew strength not from cultivation, nor training, nor enlightenment—but from the consumption of essence itself.
A path that would allow him to absorb, refine, and grow stronger by devouring the very life force and souls of others.
Dark.
Sinister.
Unnatural.
A path that most would call profane.
Yet, for Adrian, it was the only thing that made sense.
The battle of souls raged on inside the moth's body. The corrupted creature screamed as its power waned. The fragmented soul of Adrian's mother burned bright but was slowly being consumed by both Adrian's will and the moth's corruption.
In that final moment, Adrian made a choice.
He reached out—not to reject either—but to devour both.
The chaos ended.
Silence fell inside the creature's spiritual space.
And then, everything shifted.
Adrian opened his eyes. His body, which had been broken and torn apart, was whole again. The flesh that had been digested was restored. His once shallow breath was steady and strong.
The power within him surged wildly.
He had broken through his former limits, advancing all the way from a novice arcanist to an adept.
But this was no ordinary advancement. His mana felt different—denser, darker, more alive. The world around him seemed to pulse with a strange rhythm, one that only he could feel.
And deep inside his soul, the voices of the devoured—the corrupted moth and his mother—echoed faintly before fading into nothingness.
He now knew the truth.
The "mother" who had whispered to him all those years ago had never been real. It was always the moth. Every word, every promise, every illusion of love—it had all been lies. He had been manipulated from the very beginning.
The realization hit him hard.
He sat down in silence, his expression blank. The weight of everything that had happened pressed down on him like a mountain.
His purpose, the thing that had kept him alive all these years, was gone.
He had fought, killed, and suffered for a false dream.
His body trembled slightly as he whispered under his breath, his voice filled with despair and confusion.
"Why me?"
His words were quiet, but they carried through the air.
And then, unexpectedly, a calm, feminine voice answered him.
"It's a question most people ask themselves at a certain point in their lives, isn't it?"
Adrian's eyes widened. He turned toward the sound of the voice.
There, sitting gracefully upon a rock nearby, was a woman dressed in a black gown. Her face was hidden beneath a dark veil, and beside her stood a man in a neat butler's uniform, silent and composed.
The woman crossed her legs elegantly and tilted her head slightly as she looked in Adrian's direction.
"Wouldn't you like to know the answers, Adrian?" she asked softly.
Her tone was calm and measured, but behind it was a weight—a depth that made the air around her feel different.
Adrian said nothing.
He simply stared, his mind still struggling to process what was real and what wasn't.
The night wind blew gently through the ruins, carrying with it the faint scent of ash and blood.
And in that silence, the woman's question lingered.
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The chapter end there.