Chapter 7:
The hall emptied as the instructors led us through a narrow passage, deeper into the sect's stronghold. The air grew colder, the walls slick with moisture, and the faint scent of iron lingered—blood, old and dried, embedded in the stone.
Joren and Lina walked close to me, their steps uncertain. The soul parasites had settled within them, their presence a dull weight in my enhanced senses. I could feel the corruption pulsing beneath their skin, a slow, creeping influence. But unlike the others, whose eyes had dimmed into passive obedience, my friends still flickered with defiance.
The system must have shielded me, I realized. And somehow, it's protecting them too.
The lean instructor with the branded cheek turned, his smirk widening as he watched us. "You three. Keep up. The Grand Elder has taken an interest in you."
My stomach tightened. The old man from the mountain—Grand Elder. His gaze had been calculating, assessing. If he had noticed my manipulations during the climb, then he knew I was different.
We were led into a cavernous training yard, where other newly awakened disciples stood in rigid lines. Some practiced summoning flickers of flame or gusts of wind, their movements clumsy but determined. Others bore expressions of pain, their Veyra still unstable.
The Grand Elder waited at the center, his hands clasped behind his back. His eyes locked onto me.
"Decay," he mused aloud. "A rare Veyra. Unpleasant, but powerful." His gaze flicked to Joren and Lina. "Fire and Wind. Common, but serviceable."
He stepped closer, his voice lowering. "You three survived the mountain together. That is… unusual. Most discard weakness when power is at stake." His fingers twitched, and I felt a sudden pressure in my skull—an invisible force probing my mind.
(Warning: Mental Intrusion Detected.)
(System Countermeasure: Mental Resistance Engaged.)
The pressure vanished as quickly as it came. The Grand Elder's eyes narrowed slightly, but he gave no other sign of surprise.
"Interesting," he murmured. Then, louder: "From this moment, you will train. You will fight. You will kill if ordered. The Demonic Sect does not tolerate failure."
A sharp whistle cut the air, and the instructors began barking orders. Drills. Sparring. Endurance tests. The other children moved like puppets, their wills suppressed by the parasites. But I—we—still had our minds.
As the first day of brutal training wore on, I tested the limits of my enhanced abilities.
(Earth Manipulation Level 5: Capable of minor terrain alteration. Duration: Extended.)
I subtly shifted the ground beneath Joren's feet during a sprint, giving him an edge.
(Earth Sense Level 8: Detected approaching instructor before visual confirmation.)
I nudged Lina before the lean man could catch her hesitating.
But it wasn't enough. The instructors were watching us too closely now. The Grand Elder's interest was a double-edged sword—opportunity and danger.
That night, as we were herded into a cramped barracks, Joren whispered, "Lishen… something's wrong. I can feel it inside me. The parasite… it's hungry."
Lina shuddered. "It's eating at my Veyra. Like it's trying to… replace it."
I clenched my fists. The system had assimilated the dark energy, but theirs was still festering. If we didn't act soon, they'd be lost.
(New Objective: Purge Soul Parasites.)
(Required: Decay Veyra Level 2. Current: Level 1.)
I exhaled slowly. Then I'll level up.
The next morning, during combat drills, I didn't hold back. When paired against an older boy with a Stone Veyra, I let my Decay surge for the first time. My fingers brushed his arm—and his skin grayed, withering at the edges. He screamed.
(Decay Veyra Progress: 45% to Level 2.)
The Grand Elder, watching from the shadows, smiled.
Good,I thought darkly. Let him think I'm playing his game.