Ashok’s chants reverberated through the room, their resonance lingering in the air like an unsettling echo. The Head Butler’s eyes widened in shock as he listened to the Ancient Language, each syllable strange and foreign.
The words themselves were lost on him, but the malevolent energy emanating from them was undeniable. His instincts screamed at him to be cautious. Ashok’s voice carried a sinister undertone, and the way the mana pulsed around him made it clear that this was no mere incantation.
Whatever Ashok had just summoned or invoked was far from harmless.
The Witch, too, felt it—a deep, instinctive dread that coursed through her like a sudden wave of cold. The sensation came from the very depths of her being, as though her soul was warning her.
Every fiber of her body screamed that if she did not escape Ashok’s grasp now, she would never see the world again.
But what could she do? Her thoughts were clouded by panic as Ashok’s grip tightened around her neck, just above the sealing collar. Every breath became a struggle, the pressure making it nearly impossible to think clearly, let alone attempt an escape.
She shivered as his fingers moved slowly across her forehead, tracing strange symbols with a deliberate slowness, as though savoring her fear.
The temperature in the room began to plummet, an unnatural chill settling in as the fire in the fireplace sputtered and died.
The Head Butler and Cassius, both poised to act, found themselves frozen in place. Their feet felt as though they were glued to the ground, the weight of the shifting presence around Ashok keeping them rooted in place.
They wanted to move, to intervene, but something held them back - the two rankers felt fear from the presence that surrounded Ashok.
"The presence is Divine," muttered the Head Butler, his voice low with awe and fear as he cast his strongest Barrier around the three of them.
For the first time in his life, the old man was witnessing such a ritual.
He didn’t know what kind of ritual Ashok had started with a few words, but he was smart enough to refrain from interfering without understanding the essence behind it.
The Head Butler focused on his priority, which was protecting the Duke.
As Ashok’s chants came to an end, a shift began to unfold before everyone’s eyes. The color of his shadow darkened, its hue turning as deep as the night itself.
His shadow began to stretch, reaching further and further as if the very darkness had come to life. The length of the shadow grew unnaturally, spreading like ink spilling across the floor.
It crept slowly and deliberately towards the Witch, and within moments, it engulfed her shadow. As the shadow swallowed hers, it began to climb the wall behind them.
The three onlookers stood frozen, their eyes wide with disbelief as they watched the spectacle unfold. They watched as the shadow, now stretching up the wall behind the Witch, grew impossibly larger.
It swelled and twisted, its form creeping higher and higher, now nearly double the size of the Witch herself.
As the shadow loomed behind her, the Witch couldn’t shake the feeling that she was standing on the edge of a precipice—one so deep that she could never hope to return if she fell into it.
"Please... spare me..." The Witch’s voice trembled, each word strained as she struggled weakly against Ashok’s unyielding grip.
"I am certain that the owner of this body must have pleaded for mercy. Did you show her any? Not only did you take her life, but you also possessed her body—for what?
To kill the Duke’s daughter. Do you truly think someone like you is worth sparing?" Ashok’s voice was authoritative and unwavering, each word carrying the weight of a judge delivering a verdict.
The witch could not answer.
"I... saved..." The Witch began, a flicker of hope in her voice.
But Ashok’s laughter cut through the air, harsh and mocking. "HAHAH! Do you truly think I would believe you after you tried to seduce me?" he taunted, his eyes gleaming with cold amusement.
With a dismissive gesture, he released his grip on her neck. The Witch fell, crumpling over the dark shadow that had engulfed hers.
From the depths of Ashok’s shadow, countless black hands emerged, their fingers long and clawed, reaching out like spectral serpents drawn to their prey.
In an instant, the Witch found her arms and legs ensnared, the shadowy hands tightening their grip as she desperately struggled to break free.
No matter how hard she thrashed, the shadows held her fast, each movement only making the grasp more suffocating.
"STOP! STOP! PLEASE, STOP!" The Witch’s voice cracked as she shouted, panic rising in her chest. She struggled violently, but the black hands only tightened their hold, wrapping around her with relentless force.
The shadowy tendrils swarmed over her, covering her arms, legs, and torso, pulling her closer and closer to the dark void inside Ashok’s shadow.
"IT HURTS! IT HURTS! PLEASE SPARE ME!" The Witch’s screams echoed through the chamber, her voice filled with agony and desperation.
Everywhere the shadowy hands touched, her skin began to rot, the decay spreading rapidly across her body.
The rot spread like a dark plague, consuming her flesh as the shadowy hands tightened their grip. The Witch’s cries grew more frantic, her body writhing in pain as she struggled in vain to break free.
The Witch’s legs had already been consumed by the shadow, her body sinking further into the darkness like quicksand. The shadowy hands kept dragging her inside as they clawed their way inside her body.
"Shh! Why cry so much? Accept this as a new journey in your life. Be happy! You are receiving freedom from all your sins," Ashok said gently, his voice serene and composed, like a saint offering solace and enlightenment.
"YOU MANIAC! YOU WILL DIE UNDER THE HANDS OF MY MAS—" The Witch’s defiant scream was abruptly cut off as a shadowy hand clamped over her mouth and then her face.
The black hands around the Witch’s head trembled. Their relentless grasp tightened, holding her in place as her final struggles weakened. And then, just as quickly as the tremors had begun, they ceased.
Ashok watched as the black hands slowly dragged the Witch deeper into the shadows.
The Duke’s entire body shook as he watched the scene unfold. For the first time in his life, he had witnessed such brutality, even against an enemy.
A deep sense of fear gripped him as he beheld the darkness within Ashok’s shadow. It wasn’t just the Duke who felt this terror; Cassius and the Head Butler shared the same dread.
They had fought against Ascended before, but this was something entirely different—something unknown and far more terrifying. They feared the entity that owned the hands and they feared Ashok, who had summoned such an entity to the mortal plane.
Meanwhile, Ashok heard Morrathis’s voice in his head, "The body is no different to that of an insect, but the soul is very interesting. What do you want?"
"Darling, how have you been? Did you enjoy my first gift after our marriage? Have you made any progress in understanding these new emotions of yours? If you need any help, I’m always here," Ashok asked, his words incongruously gentle compared to the coldness of the scenario.
"Just tell me what you want, and stop calling me... t-that," Morrathis’s voice faltered at the end, a rare stutter.
"Hmm! What did you say, Darling? I can’t hear you, Darling. Would you kindly repeat your question, Darling?" Ashok purposefully added ’Darling,’ savoring the discomfort it caused Morrathis.
"Just die." The words came through cold and final from the other side, and before Ashok could respond, the mental link to Morrathis was severed.
"Wait! Wait! Give me a spell or something—Hello? Are you there, Darling?" Ashok called out mentally, but there was no response.
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"I wonder how long you can ignore me... Darling." Ashok mused silently, his gaze fixed on the shadow as it slowly returned to its usual state.
As his shadow finally returned to normal, the soul stigma on Ashok’s chest began to glow with a dark, otherworldly light. The black shine spread rapidly, engulfing his entire body.
Ashok felt energy flowing within him, a surge of power that coursed through every fiber of his being. While Cassius and Head Butler sensed Ashok increasing his rank.
When Ashok first arrived, his rank had been F-. But now, he could feel the energy coursing through him, growing stronger by the second. In mere moments, his rank surged to F. Yet, the power didn’t stop there. It continued to swell, pushing him past F and into F+.
However, despite the overwhelming energy flooding his body, the shine around him began to dim. The momentum stalled, and he was unable to break through the threshold into E rank.
As the last traces of the dark shine vanished, both Cassius and the Head Butler sensed the shift. Despite the surge of energy, Ashok’s presence still felt like that of an F- Ranker—unchanged in essence.
Cassius’s mind raced. ’This kid was a priest all along… But why is his divine energy so difficult to sense?’ His gaze flickered to the Head Butler, who stood silently, his expression clouded with the same uncertainty.
Divine Energy, much like Mana and Aura, could typically be easily sensed by higher-ranked individuals within those of lower ranks. However, for the two SSS Rankers—Cassius and the Head Butler—it was a different story.
Despite their heightened senses, they found it incredibly difficult to detect any trace of Ashok’s Divine Energy. It was as though it had cloaked itself, hiding from their prying perceptions.
Both Cassius and the Head Butler could easily sense the Rank of Ashok’s Mana Core, but when it came to his Divine Energy, there was nothing. No trace, no presence—just an absence.
It was as if Ashok’s Divine Energy didn’t exist within him at all.