Chapter 114: What It Means to Sacrifice

“Of course there’s a difference.” Nolan looked at the puzzled expressions around him and patiently began explaining, “You should all know that becoming undead is anything but a pleasant experience. And the vast majority of undead never choose it willingly.”

Everyone present knew that well. It was common knowledge throughout Vaughn Continent, and they all nodded.

There were many kinds of undead, with new variations constantly appearing. Most were once mortals or living creatures resurrected through black magic by liches or necromancers after death.

Low-level undead such as Skeleton Warriors and Bone Hawks possessed almost no intelligence of their own. They were merely puppets driven by dark magic and completely controlled by their creators.

Vampires were a unique race born from black magic. They too belonged among the undead. Their hearts no longer beat, and they reproduced through a special process known as the “Embrace,” transforming the living into their own kind.

As for beings like liches and corpse liches, those who willingly chose undeath while still alive had to endure a transformation far more agonizing than death itself.

“During that process, all their thoughts and convictions from life become horribly twisted by dark magic, and the transformation is nearly irreversible. Former companions turn into hated enemies. Beloved family members become nothing more than flesh to slaughter at will. Every happy memory from their past becomes the source of unbearable pain, until they come to hate everything they once loved. The thing undead fear most is remembering their former lives.”

Nolan’s voice grew lower and heavier.

“That’s why most people would rather choose a dignified death and ask to be cremated than become those half-human, half-monster abominations.”

The others listened silently and nodded.

Little Donnie especially understood. His parents had died during undead raids, and his hatred for the undead ran deeper than anyone else’s.

“As for war spirits…” Nolan looked toward Ailindel within the cocoon of light, his eyes filled with reverence. “Strictly speaking, they also belong to a form of undead. No, more accurately, the existence of undead was derived from war spirits. You could say war spirits were the origin of undeath itself, the only type completely unrelated to black magic. As far as I know, Ailindel Morningsong was the very first war spirit in this world. While still alive, she voluntarily underwent an ancient ritual known as ‘Soul Ascension,’ using her will and soul as the foundation to transform herself into an immortal semi-spiritual existence. She did it for one reason only: to eternally exile and suppress that Demon Overlord here. That’s why she is not only the guardian of this prison, but also a part of the prison itself.”

“So that’s it!” Renee suddenly exclaimed in realization. “No wonder the way she manifested her weapon resembled the conjured weapons used by Law Sorcerers, yet there were no magical fluctuations at all! What she manifested wasn’t magic or elemental energy. It was the substance of her own soul!”

“Exactly.” Nolan nodded approvingly at Renee’s sharp observation.

“The ritual of Soul Ascension was jointly created and overseen by the Seven Saints of that era. But the requirements to become a war spirit were unimaginably strict. First, the person had to reach a level of power where their Origin was fully awakened, or at least stand infinitely close to that realm. Second, their will had to be as unshakable as steel. Most importantly, the subject had to be completely willing, sacrificing everything purely for the sake of others. If even the slightest selfish thought appeared during the ritual, the soul would collapse and transform into a mindless enemy of Order.”

After hearing Nolan’s explanation, everyone fell silent.

As they looked at the breathtaking figure wrapped in light, their hearts filled with indescribable awe and respect.

“But… why go this far?” Romina still could not understand. “Didn’t you say this place lies in the deepest region of the subplane called the Spine of the Earth, making it a natural prison already? Wouldn’t sealing the entrance or simply killing the Demon Overlord have been safer? Why sacrifice the daughter of a Saint for something like this?”

“Because beings like Demon Overlords cannot truly be killed.” Nolan shook his head and revealed a cruel truth. “Demon Overlords are extremely special. They are extensions of the most primal chaotic will within the Sulfur Abyss, incarnations of chaos and destruction themselves. Even if their physical bodies are destroyed in the material world, their souls merely return temporarily to the Abyss. As long as the soul imprint they leave at the bottom of the Abyss remains intact, they can never truly be erased. Given enough time to recover their strength, they will inevitably return. That’s why, during the era of the War of Heaven, the best solution the ancient heroes could devise was exile. Seal them within a prison completely isolated from the main material world, somewhere they could never escape.

“But this was the first attempt to imprison an existence of that level. No one could guarantee the Demon Overlord wouldn’t eventually discover a way out. At the time, the forces of Order and the powers of annihilation were evenly matched in the war. They couldn’t afford to take even the slightest risk. And so the final plan known as the ‘Three-Saint Seal’ was born.”

Nolan pointed toward Ailindel, then toward the endlessly flowing spring atop the altar and the armor surrounding her.

“A saint. Sacred water. And a holy relic powerful enough to suppress the prison. Three safeguards working together to ensure nothing could go wrong. Using the blessed holy relic Immovable Bulwark as the vessel, relying on the source-less sacred water known as the Fountain of Potential to continuously purify the demon’s power, and finally having a descendant of a Saint transform into an eternal war spirit to serve as the final shackle and watcher. You might think they overdid it. But you have to understand, in that era countless powerful races were wiped out entirely by the war that swept across the world. Their caution was completely understandable.”

After hearing Nolan’s explanation, everyone felt genuine reverence rise within them.

“So basically…” Little Donnie, who had always admired heroic legends the most, spoke first, his voice full of awe. “This elven knight, who looks about the same age as us, sacrificed her entire life without reservation just to imprison the enemy of all living Order forever?”

“Not just her ‘life,’” Nolan corrected softly. “She has been imprisoned here for exactly as long as that Demon Overlord has. In a sense, she is both the eternal guardian and an eternal prisoner herself.”

Vivi, Renee, and Romina stared at the lonely yet beautiful figure suspended within the cocoon of light, their hearts filled with sorrow they could hardly put into words.

What kind of noble soul would willingly abandon their own life and everything they held dear, sacrificing themselves so completely for the sake of others?

“Besides her… are there any other war spirits?” Vivi asked quietly as she looked at Ailindel. “Is there any way to free her from this fate?”