A few moments later, Guilliman placed the blade in his palm, slicing through his skin. The pain shot up his spine as a gush of blood poured from the wound. But this did not deter him. His gaze remained fixed on the direwolf before him, its massive form looming as he walked toward it with determination.
"To reach the soul, one must first pass through the mind."
With his blood-stained hand, he drew a strange cubic symbol on the direwolf's forehead.
He then moved slowly to its left side, near where the heart of the beast would be.
"But what is the mind without the heart?" Guilliman painted a second runic symbol. A moment later, flashes of memories flooded his mind. In an instant, he found himself reliving the pivotal moments of his past.
He was in the midst of his Shamanic Awakening when it happened: the hand in the sky, its power… it descended on their world. After years of preparation and divination, his talent was deemed supreme—an achievement unseen in the history of his world. But what good was that? His unmatched potential had brought nothing but destruction. His world was lost, his family gone, and all glory turned to dust in an instant.
"The senses are the basis of all."
Guilliman moved steadily, his focus unwavering, even as his heart pounded with intensity. It felt like he was back in that place—the place where he had lost everything—but he remained steady, continuing to paint symbols from his world.
"The senses feed the body, the body feeds the heart, the heart feeds the mind, and the mind feeds the soul."
After covering the direwolf's body with these blood symbols, Guilliman returned to its head and spoke in a deep, low voice.
"This is the circularity of the soul, and from its basis, the fundamentals of all life."
He stared coldly at the creature before him, the beast echo floating before him. A bead of sweat rolled down his forehead.
(I hope this works.)
His thoughts were clear, though uncertainty lingered. As a shaman, his control over the soul was unparalleled compared to the average person, who couldn't even perceive its existence.
There was no world where he would be completely helpless. As long as there was life, there would be a way for him to grow. But this world—this one was strange.
During his fight with the direwolf, he could barely sense its soul. Now, after its death, the faint trace he could detect had completely vanished.
(It has to be you,) Guilliman thought, his eyes locking onto the floating beast echo. There was no other possibility. The soul couldn't have just disappeared while he was present—it must have gone somewhere else.
Slowly, he stretched his hand forward, speaking a word of power:
"Break!"
Suddenly, the beast echo, shaped like a dagger, shattered into tiny shards that drifted around him. Guilliman smiled, relief washing over him.
He had been right. The soul had taken the form of the beast echo upon the direwolf's death. It made sense now.
(Soul, mind, body, and senses… one cannot exist without the other. Thank goodness.)
He was lucky; if he had destroyed the echo and the soul hadn't been in it, this whole thing would have been for nothing.
Seated in a lotus position, Guilliman began forming hand signs, not wasting a single moment. As he did, the symbols on the direwolf's body began to glow, beams of light shooting upward and pulling the shards back into the corpse.
Then, with a sharp command:
"Manifest!"
His word carried a powerful resonance, sending a chill through the air. The ground darkened, focusing all light on the dead creature.
From within the corpse, an ethereal figure rose—its claws gleamed in the dim light, and its ghostly fur shimmered with a blue luster.
It was the direwolf's soul.
[Ding!!
Hidden task activated: description [Redacted]]
A system notification flashed before him, indicating the activation of a hidden task. As it did, the direwolf's soul growled fiercely at him, a mix of confusion and defiance.
Guilliman had just killed it, and now he was attempting to bring it back? Why? It couldn't be for anything good—it had to resist.
Despite its growls and hostility, Guilliman remained unmoved. His eyes narrowed, then widened as he shouted:
"Submit!"
A wave of purple soul energy erupted from him, colliding with the soul of the direwolf. The pressure was so intense that the beast's form nearly dissipated.
It had roamed this forest for years, feared for its strength, but now it felt more overwhelmed than ever. What was this? Why had this kid's power over the soul surpassed anything it had encountered?
As the pressure mounted, the direwolf's soul, unable to bear it any longer, feeling its own soul about to shatter, bowed its head in submission.
[Ding!!
Hidden task completed.
Error 401: Class not found in backlogs…
Forced assignment processing…
Secret class unlocked: Soul King
Tier: [Redacted]
Ability (1): Control over Soul Beasts]
The system glitched briefly, before assigning a class. Guilliman wasn't aware of it yet, but he had unlocked something unknown—a class that didn't exist in this world's backlogs.
With a satisfied smile, he reached forward and pulled the soul of the direwolf into his body.
He had succeeded.
This ritual, which had caused him so much difficulty in his past life, had finally been completed. Now, he could move forward without regret—and perhaps, one day, he would return to his world and get his revenge against those who destroyed his home.
—rustle
As he sat there in a state of contemplation and satisfaction, a shrub not too far away shook slightly as the figure of a young slave girl slowly raised her head in a daze.
(Just now? What happened?)
She thought to herself, just waking up from the previous slash from the direwolf. Her eyes slowly drifted, falling on Guilliman's figure seated cross-legged.
"Hm?!" Immediately their eyes clashed. She was taken aback; she didn't know this kid here. Why did it feel like he wanted to kill her?
Before her eyes, Guilliman stood up slowly and started taking large strides toward her, soon arriving before her and towering over her.
"You're just waking up?" Guilliman asked coldly, his deadly eyes looking down at her.
"Ye…yes," she trembled, instinctively crawling back with her hands. Did she just see something she wasn't supposed to? Why was this kid looking at her with such killing intent?
"Good. Everyone from the Blackberry family died. It's just the two of us. The best course of action is for you to leave the shelter area entirely," Guilliman spoke as if advising her, but it sounded more like a command—or even a threat.
"You leave, and maybe…you'll be lucky to survive and find another shelter," Guilliman said.
She was a slave girl who had survived a hunt where her masters died. She would definitely be put to death if she were found. It was best for her to leave.
"Oh, but…won't it be dangerous for you too?" The girl seemed clearly worried about what would happen to her in the forest if she was left alone. Guilliman seemed capable—maybe it would be better for them to go together.
"That's not your concern. Just don't come back to BlackSteel shelter," Guilliman spoke with his intentions clear. He didn't mind sparing her, but if she came back and caused him trouble, he would end her life.
"I…I understand," she fumbled over her words, nodding. Guilliman sighed, turning to walk down the path they had walked on to this dreadful opening.
"Why are you sparing me?!!" As if the last question before death, she asked as his back slowly became distant.
He could kill her here and now, and none of his plans would ever be disturbed. He could go back and do whatever he wanted, whether with stolen treasure from the heir or whatever, but he chose not to.
"Because, I am righteous," Guilliman replied sharply before proceeding down the forest pathway.