"Fuck it all. Damn you, Grandma. You and your stories—your twisted, cursed little bedtime tales. I thought they were just nightmares... not blueprints."
The words slipped out under his breath, not meant for anyone — not even himself. He wasn't scared, just… tired. Tired of feeling like every insane thing she used to say was somehow becoming real.
However, he didn't have time to complain. There was still more to come.
[Soul Abilities]
If soul rank was the measure of potential…
And soul type was the nature of that potential...
Then soul abilities were the tools to shape it.
Soul abilities mattered just as much as the other two — maybe even more. They often determined whether someone became a fighter, a craftsman, a healer, or a builder. Everything hinged on the form these abilities took.
Solen thought he'd understand what just happened — but he didn't.
Before he could make sense of anything, his soul threw him back into the real world. One blink, and the strange place was gone.
He hit the ground hard, left staring up at the sky, completely dumbfounded.
It was like waking from a dream you swore you could explain… until the details started slipping through your fingers.
He sat down, trying to gather his thoughts — to breathe.
But the universe clearly had other plans.
The eagle was still up there. Still pissed.
However, he couldn't move.
Not from fear — but from the sheer weight of what he'd just learned.
He had a Divine Soul type.
It didn't matter what abilities came with it. With a soul like this, success was guaranteed — fighter, craftsman, builder… anything.
"Maybe now… I won't be treated like a pariah anymore."
Even though he hadn't received any abilities yet, Solen already felt stronger.
Some people claimed that just visiting your soul made you stronger.
Others said it didn't change anything at all.
"So it depends on the person, huh?" Solen muttered to himself.
Solen's steps slowed.
What if I got shitty abilities?
The thought dug into him like a splinter.
He knew his luck. Of all people, he knew it too well.
But then he shook his head.
"No. No, no, no," he muttered, forcing a grin. "I should be happy. I just got a divine soul rank. That's supposed to be... amazing."
He sighed loudly
He tried to believe it. Really, he did.
This was supposed to be the turning point of his life…
And yet, all he could think about was how much he wanted to throw a rock at that eagle.
He started making his way back toward the village, sore and covered in dirt.
And on the way, he made sure to curse out every bird he saw — especially the ones with feathers that looked even slightly eagle-shaped.
He saw the villagers preparing a celebration party for all the soul fragments.
He didn't bother asking if he was invited. He already knew the answer.
He left not able to stand the sight of it anymore
He stepped into the house—what used to be his grandmother's.
The air felt colder than usual.
Probably because I cursed her out more than usual today, Solen thought.
At this rate, he was pretty sure the Soul World would be warmer than this house.
Though honestly, it was just the open window.
Only twelve hours remained.
Solen sat alone, eyes flicking between pages, trying to cram anything he could before the plunge. The Soul World — he didn't know what awaited him there. But if he was going to survive, he needed more than luck.
He reached for one of the dusty old tomes his grandmother used to hoard. The house may have felt emptier without her, but her books still whispered with strange knowledge.
Twisted diagrams. Cryptic phrases. Notes scribbled in the margins in her wild, looping handwriting. It was like trying to piece together a puzzle designed by a madwoman — which, honestly, tracked.
Still, it was better than walking in blind.
A bit late, sure — thanks to a cocktail of self-loathing, fear, and good old-fashioned apathy. Truth was, he hadn't wanted to live for a while now.
But something had changed today.
Maybe it was the eagle pissing him off.
Maybe it was the faint, stubborn feeling that — for once — he had a real shot.
The Soul World was… beautiful. Ethereal skies, glowing rivers, trees made of mist and light. A place so stunning it often left first-timers — freshly awakened Soul Fragments — frozen in awe for just a second.
Unfortunately, one second was more than enough to get you killed.
Because while the world was gorgeous, its monsters were anything but.
Imagine a spider.
Now make it part dog.
Now shrink it to nine inches — and give it a hunger problem.
Terrified yet?
Now imagine that same freak of nature staring at you like you're the best meal it's ever seen.
Yeah.
Welcome to the Soul World.
Soul Walkers — the ones who made it — were often pretty enough to be supermodels. Well, most of them. Probably not a requirement, but it sure didn't hurt.
Of course, they had to survive first.
Because you didn't just become a Soul Walker. You had to earn it — by unknowingly meeting a condition. One tailored specifically to you.
No one could tell you what that condition was.
Not even you.
Only your soul knew. Or rather, it had a faint idea — like a stubborn parent nudging you toward a path it couldn't explain. And so, it guided you. Through instinct, dreams… pain.
If you followed that pull, and met the hidden requirement?
Then — and only then — would the Soul World open to you freely.
Once you became a Soul Walker, you earned the right to move between worlds. That meant you could leave the Soul World behind — for good, if you wanted to.
But almost no one did.
Some grew used to life there. Others… couldn't leave even if they wanted to.
Whether it was addiction to the power, a sense of belonging they never had in the real world, or something darker — the Soul World had a way of keeping people.
Solen was paranoid. Deeply. Unreasonably. And maybe, just maybe, a little reasonably.
His abilities could turn out to be the worst of the worst. Or worse — he could awaken in some place where death was all but guaranteed. Like the middle of an ocean.
That hadn't happened before.
At least, not officially.
But as much as he wanted to learn about the Soul World, Solen cared even more about understanding his abilities.
Soul type?
Ancient Dead.
Yeah. He was absolutely trying his hardest to forget that.
Apparently, his new resolve to live didn't extend to figuring out what the hell "Ancient" or "Dead" even meant. Some start.
Soul rank?
Divine.
The one and only good thing — and even that came with the lovely caveat: "Can be improved." Whatever that meant.
Abilities, though?
That was the one part he knew nothing about. And it gnawed at him more than he liked to admit.
He also remembered the day his grandmother told him he was destined for the Soul World. She'd explained it like this:
"Soul Fragments are just Soul Walkers who haven't gone in yet. Same potential. Same power. They're just... sleeping."
Which meant, by her logic, Solen wasn't special. Just late.
Well, all Soul Fragments were just normal humans — with a ticking clock strapped to their soul.
Once you hit fifteen?
Boom. Into the Soul World you go.
No warning. No mercy.
Happy birthday, here's a death trap full of monsters and maybe powers if you're lucky.
Solen was two hours away from that lovely milestone.
Solen cursed under his breath.
You didn't get a warning.
One blink — and bam — you're in the Soul World. No countdown. No build-up. Just sudden death vibes and hope you brought clean underwear.
He grumbled, flipping through another one of his grandmother's dusty books, when something new caught his eye.
Soul Surge.
He hadn't heard of that one before.
Apparently, it was a soul type that supercharged your combat skills — temporarily letting you fight like a master swordsman, even if it was your first time holding a blade. Wild.
Of course, there was a catch. Always was.
It only lasted for a while… unless you killed enough monsters to absorb their soul energy. Do that, and the Surge could evolve — permanently.
You'd go from "lucky fluke" to "legendary warrior" for real.
He flipped to the next page — and to his delight, it was about Soul Ranks.
Finally. Something he was actually proud of.
The first few lines gave a simple explanation:
Soul Ranks determined how powerful a Soul Walker's abilities could become.
Even a single rank higher could mean a massive leap in strength.
More than that, it defined your limits — your potential.
How far you could climb. How bright your soul could burn.
And Solen?
His rank was Divine — one of the rarer ones.
Yet no matter how many pages he flipped through, no matter how many dusty old books he scoured…
None of them said a thing about being able to improve your rank.
But his train of thought was cut off by a knock