Leon Keeper moved through the dimly lit tunnels of the crypt, muttering to himself as he walked.
"This alien realm doesn't seem to be a higher Spiritual World... feels more like a Mundane World, even lower than our Arcadia."
"Yet for some reason, my Corpse Puppets cannot enter this plane, while soul forms and spiritual artifacts face no such boundary restrictions."
"The natives of this world, however, can physically travel to our Arcadia. Is it related to the Mages' magic power?
Are the puppets barred because they're refined by my magic? Or is it a law of the dimensional interface itself?"
Failing to unravel the paradox, he shook his head dismissively.
"No matter. I must hurry. According to ancient texts, spatial nodes connecting two worlds are highly unstable. The tunnel could collapse at any moment!"
His soliloquy ended as he entered a stone chamber.
The room was stark and simple, containing only a single meditation cushion. Upon it sat a skeletal figure, clutching a piece of yellowed wood in its bony hands.
This was no ordinary skeleton. Its bones had a smooth, almost jade-like quality, emanating a soft, crystalline luminescence.
And standing behind the skeleton was a figure shrouded in pitch-black robes.
Leon gave a slight nod to the figure in black robes and said:
"If not for these intruders from the other world, even with the Soul-Nurturing Wood, my spirit would have scattered to the wind in a few more years."
"It seems fate isn't done with me yet. To think I'd actually find someone here with a Magical-Spiritual Root... This time, the seize attempt will succeed."
"As for how compatible this MSR vessel truly is... that requires a ritual to measure."
"Arthur, go prepare the array instruments for the Soul-Seize. I can't afford to stay too long in this Leon boy's body."
The black-robed figure nodded silently and turned to leave.
"Sigh... Thankfully, I had already refined Arthur using my Soul-Split Fusion Art before I was injured."
"Without Arthur, I would have perished long ago."
Leon let out a self-mocking laugh, his gaze shifting to the motionless Silas Von.
"Although this refined corpse of Arthur can't enter the other world due to the magic power within it... I can transfer a fragment of my consciousness into your body. That way, I'll have a guardian when I begin my cultivation anew in that foreign realm."
Before long, the black-robed puppet had finished laying out the intricate Arcane Array.
Leon's eyes narrowed. With a flick of his wrist, he sent several spell-seals flying toward the motionless group.
Silas Von was the first to awaken, a look of ecstasy still plastered across his face.
"Jackpot! We... huh? Leon?"
His eyes darted around the dim, unfamiliar chamber. "Where is this?"
Leon didn't answer, simply waiting for the others to stir.
One by one, they regained consciousness, each wearing a blank expression of utter confusion—except for Rolly.
Dark circles hung under his eyes, a fresh stream of blood trickled from his nose, and a line of drool slicked his chin. He looked utterly, blissfully spent.
He jolted awake with a start: "Damn!!! I was—"
Leon raised a finger to his lips in a simple "shush" motion.
Instantly, as if struck by a powerful spell, everyone froze completely. They couldn't move a muscle, couldn't even open their mouths to speak.
Fury boiled within Silas. He, who had never suffered such humiliation, strained against the invisible bindings, veins bulging on his forehead.
The sheer power leaking from his body began to stir a small vortex of energy around him.
Just as he was mustering every ounce of his strength to break free, the black-robed figure beside Leon moved in a blur.
A hand, cold and hard as a vice, clamped down on the back of Silas's neck.
The hand exerted a pressure that spoke of absolute, overwhelming dominance.
In that instant, Silas knew his life hung by a thread, entirely at the mercy of the entity holding him.
"Uncle Silas, what's all this about? Too impatient to hear what your nephew has to say?"
Leon spoke with a mocking grin, but the icy malice in his eyes sent a cold shiver down Silas's spine. He ceased his struggle.
"Now, that's more like it!"
"You should consider it an honor to be of use to me. Play your parts well, and I might just grant you a fortuitous opportunity. If not..."
With a casual wave of Leon's hand, Vincent Franks suddenly found he could move again. But in the next heartbeat, a black blur shot toward him.
Reacting on pure instinct, Vincent activated his Meta ability. A silvery shield materialized in front of him.
Strangely, the black-robed Arthur didn't strike immediately. He waited until Vincent's defense was fully formed, a look of utter contempt flashing in his lifeless eyes.
Then, without any flourish, he delivered a simple, brutal knife-hand chop.
SCREECH—CLANG!
A shower of sparks erupted as Arthur's hand struck the shield, the sound of grinding metal piercing the air. Yet, the blow halted, unable to penetrate further.
A surge of triumph washed over Vincent. "Ha! All show and no go! I thought you were…."
He never finished his sentence. A sudden, splitting headache exploded in his skull—the unmistakable sign of his ability being pushed far beyond its limit.
His face turned a deep, violent red, his eyes bulging grotesquely from their sockets.
Pop!!!
His head burst apart, splattering blood and grey matter over everyone nearby.
Only Leon remained untouched, an invisible barrier deflecting the gore.
"!!!"
The horrific sight struck the group dumb, silencing them completely.
Silas, to his own horror, began to tremble uncontrollably.
He alone truly understood the immense defensive power of Vincent's ability—a shield he himself could never hope to breach.
"Do you understand now?" Leon's voice was chillingly calm. "Your lives are mine to take whenever I wish."
No sooner had he spoken than the black blur moved again.
Thud.
A fist drove deep into Silas's stomach, doubling him over and sending him crumpling to the floor, gasping for air.
Jake's heart lurched. He was terrified by Leon's sheer unpredictability. The other two shook like leaves in a storm.
Especially Rolly. His legs were so weak he could barely stand, and he was fighting a desperate battle not to wet himself.
His main concern wasn't just fear—after his recent... encounter, he wasn't sure if this new version of Leon had a thing about cleanliness, and he really didn't want to die over something like that.
Leon smiled. "Now, you will do exactly as I say. My patience is… limited."
He pointed toward the back of the chamber. "See those three meditation cushions? Sit. Now."
It was an area not far to the left of the stone chamber.
An intricate diagram was drawn on the ground, within which were three circles that seemed to be formed of congealed blood, surrounded by seven black candles.
Jake and the others knew they were utterly outmatched. Even Rolly, who could barely stand, gritted his teeth and crawled his way into the designated spot.
The moment the three of them sat down, they felt an invisible constriction grip their bodies, making it impossible to move even an inch.
A wave of terror washed over them, but there was nothing they could do.
Leon glanced over with a dismissive smirk, then turned his attention to Silas, who was still crumpled on the floor.
"Uncle Silas, see that iron frame over there? Be a good fellow and make your way over. Surely you don't need me to help you up?"
Silas had seen the black-robed puppet haul out the grim metal apparatus earlier.
He met Leon's gaze, offered a grim, resigned smile, and struggled to his feet before shuffling painfully toward it.