Chapter 647: Spirits of Iohodis
As Lostvayne stabbed Arthur’s palm, sharp, biting pain shot through his body, jolting his mind awake for the briefest of moments.
Celestia’s shocked rage flared, ready to berate Lostvayne for such a brutal action, but when she saw the faint flicker of life return to Arthur’s eyes, she swallowed her anger.
[Master! Now! Please! Open your subspace!]
Her voice was louder now, filled with both urgency and hope.
But the light in Arthur’s eyes faded barely a second later, slipping away like sand through fingers. However, before he fully succumbed, a small distortion in space appeared beside her—a portal, though barely stable.
Celestia moved to act, but Lostvayne was already ahead of her. The sword shot through the distortion before it could close, disappearing into Arthur’s subspace just as he collapsed into unconsciousness.
A second later, the air trembled and fractured as Lostvayne burst back through the pocket of space, its blade impaled into a leather pouch brimming with reddish-green crystals.
Without hesitation, Celestia struck one of the crystals with her blade, shattering it instantly. A surge of life-giving flames exploded from within, wrapping around Arthur’s wounded body.
The flames obeyed the ’Command’ of the Devil Prince who had created them, licking Arthur’s wounds and burning away the foreign energy that kept them from healing.
Just as Celestia prepared to break a second crystal, the thought of shattering all of them crossed her mind. Arthur needed healing, and she was willing to do whatever it took to keep him alive. But then—
"Is it here?"
"Look, the blood, it must be here."
The faint voices drifted from outside the cave. Celestia’s form stiffened, her senses going on high alert. Spinning around, she pointed her blade at the entrance of the cave and screamed in a blend of rage and desperation.
[WHO’S THERE?]
The sound of footsteps followed, and moments later, six figures stepped into the cave.
Three men and three women, their robes concealing their bodies entirely, save for their heads.
One of the men, clearly their leader, stepped forward. His eyes swept across the cave, taking in the blood, Arthur’s injured form, and the floating blade.
’A wounded boy and a floating sword... exactly what the Prophetess foretold.’
The man raised his hands in a gesture of peace, his voice steady and respectful as he spoke.
"We come in peace."
His gaze focused on Celestia’s glowing blade as he continued.
"I am Fusilis, High Ranking Spirit of the Order of Spirits native to this continent of Iohodis, on this planet, Taemia.
I was sent here by our Prophetess, who divined that you would be here on this day, at this time."
Celestia’s blade remained pointed at him silent and Fusilis continued, his tone now more direct.
"To not beat around the bush, our continent is under threat of being taken over by Infernal Devils, and we require your help to fight against them."
He paused, eyeing Arthur’s unconscious body and the state of the cave, then added.
"We were told that we would meet an injured boy from another dimension and a weapon with the mind of a woman.
We were instructed to explain to you, that the reason your Master was targeted by the Infernal Devils is because he possesses the power of Destruction, a law capable of permanently annihilating that which the Devils seek.
Something that came into existence as a result of the opposing law of Creation."
He glanced back at his companions before continuing.
"Our prophetess divined that with your help, we will be able to thwart the devils’ plans on this continent.
And in return, your master shall achieve what he came to this dimension to seek."
Celestia remained silent, her wariness going sky-high.
Arthur hadn’t come here to seek anything; his presence in this world had been a complete accident, a consequence of forces beyond his control.
The spirit’s talk of prophecies and divine foresight only served to deepen her wariness.
Fusilis, however, seemed to interpret her silence as permission to continue.
"Our prophetess also told us to explain that this was the most she could divine, as your master’s existence distorts natural laws.
His existence is not one she can properly foresee anything about without great sacrifice."
His voice trembled slightly, but he pressed on.
"As for why we are here, it is to aid your master in recovering from his wounds and to bring him to our abode."
Celestia still said nothing, and Fusilis, undeterred, continued.
"Our prophetess understood you would be wary of us. She instructed us to reassure you that we have no evil intentions.
To prove this, she told us to say—"
He hesitated, glancing around the cave as confusion flickered in his eyes.
"...to say that the Black Sword of Destruction should watch our every acti—"
His sentence was abruptly cut off.
The words froze on his lips, and for a moment, his expression was one of complete bewilderment.
He hadn’t even finished speaking when he felt it. The spirits behind him began to react, but their leader’s voice shot through the cave, sharp and commanding.
"STOP!"
The cave fell into an eerie silence.
Slowly, almost painfully, Fusilis lowered his eyes, only to find a blade pressed against his neck.
It had already sliced through his skin, a thin line of blood tracing its way down into his robes. His heart thundered in his chest, and though the prophetess had warned him of this, experiencing it first-hand was an entirely different terror.
Breathing heavily, his voice barely a whisper, he managed to finish his words.
"...the Black Sword of Destruction should watch our every action to ensure we are trustworthy."
A tense silence filled the cave.
Behind Fusilis, the other spirits remained frozen, not daring to move, their eyes flickering between their leader and the weapon that held him hostage.
Meanwhile, the Flames of Life continued their slow but vital work. The fire swirled around Arthur’s wounded body, burning away the residual law energy that had been infused into his wounds by the Dragon’s attacks.
Only after it purged the foreign energy would it begin the process of healing him.
Celestia’s mind raced. She could speed up the process—shatter another of the precious crystals and flood Arthur’s body with more healing fire.
But the crystals containing Creusery’s Flames of Life were finite, and their power invaluable.
What if Arthur faced a greater threat in the future? What if these flames were all that stood between him and death in a more perilous moment?
Could these strangers be trusted? Could she afford to waste these flames now, or was there something even darker lurking ahead?
Finally, her voice broke the silence.
[Exactly what do you want to do?]
Fusilis, still catching his breath, didn’t hesitate this time.
"The first thing we were instructed to do was to heal him. Only after that can we bring him to our abode."
Celestia went silent again as she considered their words. The urgency of Arthur’s condition gnawed at her, and doubt still flickered in the back of her mind.
But...
[...oka-!]
She couldn’t even finish projecting her voice outward when a piercing sound cut through the cave—a high-pitched, unintelligible screech that stabbed through the air like nails on glass.
The six spirits clutched their heads, writhing in pain, as Lostvayne didn’t bother restraining its voice.
Celestia snapped at the blade, her patience fraying.
[If it’s going to make Master recover faster, then I don’t care!]
The sword fell silent. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Lostvayne lowered just a fraction from Fusilis’ neck.
Chest heaving with relief, Fusilis glanced toward one of the light spirits behind him.
"Go."
The light spirit, hands raised in a gesture of surrender, cautiously stepped forward.
He knelt beside Arthur’s wounded body, and immediately, a soft metallic feeling prickled the back of his neck.
Celestia’s blade.
His entire body shook, but he kept silent.
With trembling fingers, the light spirit activated his Unique Skill. A faint glow enveloped his hands as he worked his magic.
His task was simple yet crucial—to amplify Arthur’s natural healing abilities.
Even now, the Sub-Cosmic boy’s body was pulling in ambient cosmic energy, slowly knitting together the torn flesh, though the process was agonizingly slow, hampered by the residual law energy from the attacks that had nearly killed him.
What he needed to do was merge his power with Arthur’s innate regeneration, accelerating it.
This would make wounds that should have taken days to mend to heal within hours.
The Spirit chanted in a different language, using a special technique that increased the efficiency and power of Law attributes.
A soft glow wrapped Arthur’s body with a deeper light following the flames of life back-to-back.
Where the flames of life had burned away the malignant energy, his healing power moved, increasing the speed with which Arthur’s scorched flesh mended.
Midway through the process, the spirit’s voice faltered. His energy reserves were running dangerously low, and the strain of maintaining the Life skill was evident in the trembling of his hands.
Sensing this, the other spirits stepped forward, each extending their arms as they channelled their magic into him to enable him to continue.
Time seemed to stretch as the process dragged on, the cave illuminated only by the soft glow of magic and the faint crackle of the flames of life.
Each spirit poured more and more of their energy into the effort, their bodies weakening as they pushed themselves to the limit.
The wounds that marred Arthur’s body, once raw and grievous, slowly began to close. His burned flesh regenerated, the exposed organs once visible now covered by new, unscarred skin. The deep gashes and scalded tissue were being restored to their former state.
Finally, after hours, long after the last of the Transcendent’s residual energy had been burned away, and the healing was complete.
The light spirit, drained and exhausted, collapsed onto the cave floor, barely able to breathe.
The others, too, slumped against the walls, their energies utterly depleted. Sweat glistened on their foreheads, and their breaths came in shallow, ragged gasps.
Though Arthur’s body had healed, his consciousness had not yet returned.
Fusilis, despite his exhaustion, looked up at Celestia and Lostvayne. He wiped a bead of sweat from his brow before speaking quietly.
"Now... shall we take him to our abode?"
