The scene shifted to the Intelligence Ghost, its once-transparent form now warping and bubbling away. Veeryan's pocket dimension had shielded him from the immediate burst of spell effects—but not all of them. The residual magic was still eating away at the ghost's essence. Realizing too late, the ghost's voice cracked in disbelief.
"HOW… HOW CAN I BE THIS DUMB!" it shouted, its frame melting like frost under the midday sun.
Veeryan, soaring high above, glanced toward the system's interface. He wasn't sure if this counted as an extra kill, but the number in the ones place had shifted slightly.
"Oh, well… my bad," he muttered with a shrug, not sparing another thought.
Breaking through the misty skies, he descended toward the first layer of the Abyss. The air here was heavier, charged with a subtle malice, yet it lacked the chaotic hostility of the deeper layers. He touched down in what appeared to be a village—but unlike the mindless wraiths from before, these ghosts had form, speech, and intelligence.
A small ghost girl, pale and fragile as moonlight, tilted her head. "Who… are you?" she asked, voice soft and curious.
Veeryan's gaze swept past her. At the far end of the street, armored ghost guards were extracting taxes—not coin, but streams of faint, shimmering essence pulled directly from the villagers' souls. The energy twisted in their hands, a form of Eldricth Force.
The system's voice echoed coldly in his mind. "You should kill everyone in this layer as you did in Layers Two and Three."
Veeryan frowned. "Wait, you're… directly talking to me now? And besides, the ghosts down there were mindless husks. Some here look… innocent."
"Even the survival of one will strengthen the Ghost Emperor. He feeds only on the souls from this layer."
Veeryan narrowed his eyes. "Are you… starting to grow emotions?"
Silence.
One of the guards spotted him. "Who are yo—" His head fell before the question finished. Veeryan's blade moved faster than thought, cutting through the rest. These guards were clearly sworn to the Ghost Emperor.
When the street was clear, only the villagers remained—wide-eyed, trembling, still breathing their spectral breath. Veeryan leapt to the roof of a crumbling house and sat, staring at them. His mind wrestled with the choice.
Then a sudden spike of pressure surged from his chest, a sharp, unnatural pulse. Bloodlust flooded his senses. His jaw clenched, his breathing deepened, and in a moment, the hesitation was gone.
Without a word, he leapt from the roof. Dark energy swirled around him in a storm, and in the span of seconds, the entire village was obliterated. Screams were swallowed by the crushing wave of destruction. The souls scattered into nothing.
Veeryan stood amid the ashes, his lips curling into a wide, unsettling grin. A laugh, raw and broken, tore from his throat—spiraling into the echoing madness of the Abyss.