Chapter 281: Punishment
Ace terminated the transformation. The Soul Sanctuary was the key; it could not be allowed to collapse. The Spirit body was already showing trends of turning into a Residual soul. Using Mental Power, Ace guided the Soul Sanctuary and the Shadow of the True Spirit inside it out together.
This was the first time he had “seen” the Soul Sanctuary. It was a highly concentrated mental body the size of a grain of rice, semi-transparent, colorful, and dreamlike.
Ace immediately realized that this colorfulness was the World of Dreams. He used a sealing spell to preserve the rice-grain-sized Soul Sanctuary, preventing it from collapsing further after losing its soul support.
Deprived of the Soul Sanctuary and the Shadow of the True Spirit , the Spirit body gradually turned into a Residual soul. Ace waited patiently.
The Residual soul slowly turned into soul fire, and the body turned into white bones. The moment the soul fire appeared, Ace felt a shudder run through his entire body. A strange sensation enveloped him.
As the remains of the dead, the soul fire was actually felt by him, a living being. He could feel the close connection between himself and the soul fire; words could not express the trembling.
Ace controlled the Shadow of the True Spirit and placed it over the soul fire to roast. Almost instantly, Ace felt a pain a hundred times more terrifying than having his heart gouged out or bones pierced.
The Shadow of the True Spirit became solid after the roasting. The contamination of Negative Energy caused it to mutate. However, since Ace as the main body was a living thing, a steady stream of Positive Energy flowed in, allowing the energies of life and death to achieve a delicate balance within the mutated Shadow of the True Spirit.
Following the method for making a Skeleton Phylactery, Ace attempted to create a Lich Phylactery for his clone.
Using Bone-Melting Water as the soup base and Spirit-Suppressing Fruit as the starter, he poured his own hot heart blood and a small section of cut appendix into it. It instantly turned into a thick, blood-red paste.
Ace sealed the mutated Shadow of the True Spirit into the rice-grain-sized Soul Sanctuary, which was on the verge of collapse. Only then did he realize he had forgotten to cut off a Residual soul fragment. In his haste, he cut off a piece of his own living soul fragment to wrap around the rice-grain-sized Soul Sanctuary and threw them together into the thick blood-red paste.
Enduring the pain of soul cutting, Ace roasted it with the magical flame derived from the True-Illusion Dream. The paste gradually solidified, turning into a black, shiny rhombic octahedron like obsidian, about the size of a thumb.
Ace gradually felt a difference. This Phylactery seemed slightly different from what he had anticipated.
The Shadow of the True Spirit resided within it. Ace’s appendix, the flesh-and-blood paste formed from heart blood, and the Soul Sanctuary stabilized by the living soul fragment formed a delicate balance. They were not in a state of dead silence, but alive!
Inside the obsidian-like octahedron, a translucent infant curled up as if in a mother’s womb. Ace even felt an inexplicable attraction from that infant, as if it were pulling at his True Spirit.
The soul fire formed by the clone Spirit body’s Residual soul had not entered the skeleton and, lacking a power source, became somewhat weak.
Just as it weakened, Ace felt the power of life increasing within the mutated Shadow of the True Spirit. The balance seemed about to break. Ace stared at the soul fire with bated breath, watching it slowly decline.
The sun in the True-Illusion Dream world shone brightly. A 2-Ring Spell Model emerged in Ace’s hand. Intense life and the fiery power of the sun turned into a beam of light that struck the soul fire. The soul fire flickered like a dying candle after being hit.
The balance was about to be broken.
Finally, the soul fire extinguished. The balance in the black, shiny octahedron was completely shattered, and the power of life erupted.
On the other side, Hel and others led the way into Misha’s home and knocked on the door.
“Felipe Milne, we are Punishers. We now suspect your daughter has a close relationship with a Desecrator. We are taking her to the Punishment Office for a trip.”
Goll’s uncle, wearing the full attire of a Punisher —black robe, scythe, and iron mask—shouted coldly.
“That’s impossible!”
Felipe was not afraid; instead, he shouted loudly.
“This is slander! We are a Divine Descendant family; it is impossible for us to have a close relationship with a Desecrator.”
Hel said sternly:
“Witte is the Desecrator! He is a Devil Worshiper!”
They forcibly broke into Misha’s home. Misha, who was researching magic, heard the quarrel downstairs and walked out of her room and down the stairs.
Before she could react, Misha was held by them and forcibly taken out of her home. Misha struggled and screamed. The small conch Witte gave her, hanging around her neck, swayed helplessly.
This was their so-called brilliant plan: slander the commoner Witte as a Desecrator, take Misha to the Punishment Office to intimidate her, obtain a token and handwriting, and then trick Witte out of the city to kill him.
The sky gradually brightened. In the gloomy torture chamber, Misha was tied to a stake. Goll’s uncle was torturing her severely. Misha was covered in wounds, but she gritted her teeth and resolutely refused to admit that Witte was a Desecrator.
“As long as you identify Witte and write a letter, we can release you immediately.”
Misha’s lips trembled slightly. She was terrified and in immense pain, but she loved Witte; she would not betray Witte.
If anyone is a Desecrator, it’s me, Misha remained silent.
Hel looked at the miserable Misha and couldn’t bear it.
“Goll, why did things turn out like this? Wasn’t it just supposed to be for show?”
Goll replied in a panic, “This is different from what my uncle told me. I’ll go ask.”
On the other side, Goll’s uncle was consulting with two other Punishers.
“Is this really okay? This is a Divine Descendant family!”
“So what? They are just Incompetents (Unawakened ). Since we’ve offended them, we might as well kill them. We each have a quota of one Desecrator short. If we don’t catch them, the Grand Commander won’t be merciful with the punishment.”
“Anyway, it’s just a few Incompetents and commoners. If we say they desecrated, then they desecrated. Besides, there was an informant for this matter.”
The three finished their discussion and walked out with hideous smiles. They happened to hear the conversation between Goll and Hel and said to Goll and the others:
“Do you think we Punishers are joking? If we say someone is a Desecrator , then they are a Desecrator! Not only is that Witte a Desecrator , but I see this Misha is so stubborn, she looks like a Desecrator too. Her parents covered it up, so they are also Desecrators.
“For the sake of your timely report, hurry home.”
Witte, who was in a deep sleep, dreamed of a set of toxin Runes. He woke up with a start, pondering and recording the inspiration from his dream: keywords Counterbalance and Delay.
As time passed, Witte felt cold all over. He grew increasingly uneasy. He dressed and prepared to walk to Misha’s house.
Halfway there, he was shocked to see Misha’s parents tied with ropes by Punishers, being shoved towards the Punishment Office.
Suddenly, a pair of hands appeared from behind and hugged Witte, pulling him back into the crowd.
Witte shuddered all over, his Mana nearly erupting. At this moment, a somewhat hoarse, magnetic male voice rang in his ear.
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