Leo fixed his attention on Zahhak.
"Listen carefully. I won't repeat this," Zahhak said, his voice low and deliberate. "Long ago, the elves were the first to discover mana, the invisible threads of energy that shape our world. They lived in tune with the forests, the rivers, and the winds. Their connection to nature was unmatched, and from them came the first druids, those who could bend the nature, speak to beasts, and heal with nothing but their will."
Leo frowned, leaning forward. "How is this related to corruption?"
Zahhak's eyes narrowed. "Patience. You need to understand the history first. After the elves learned to sense mana and shape it into magic, the other races noticed. They began to explore for themselves. Soon, magic diversified. Some learned to summon fire that burned without wood, others drew power from the stars. And as magic grew, corruption followed closely behind. Small at first, subtle, but it spread in ways no one could ignore. The strongest among each magical path came together to study it, hoping to uncover its cause."
"And so they discovered the Rules," Zahhak continued, his voice steady. "The Rules are the foundation of all power, but they are dangerous. They offer unlimited strength, but approaching them without preparation is like stepping into a storm barefoot, you will be torn apart. And the Rules are not passive. They react. They can reject or consume those who challenge them without caution. They have a will of their own."
Leo raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
"You think you control that power. You think you shape your own soul. But it's not you who does it, they shape you. The closer you draw to them, the more their power flows into you, slipping into your thoughts, your instincts, even your heartbeat. It pulls at your will, tugging you toward them. And the closer you get, the stronger that pull becomes. That is where domains come in."
Leo felt a weight settle in his chest. Every time he willed something inside his domain, Ethereon responded. Until now, he had thought it was his own strength guiding it. Now he understood, the Rules were watching, reacting and bending. There was a will at work, guiding the flow of energy, answering his intent as if testing him.
Zahhak continued. "The first high ranks discovered this. They followed the Rules into Ethereon, walking paths most would die on, and realized they could shape domains around them. By carving space that contained the Rules' energy and the pull it exerted, they could control it instead of being dragged along. In doing so, they strengthened themselves. They learned to stand in the eye of the storm rather than be swept away."
"And that's when the first gods appeared," Leo said, his voice low but certain, as if tasting the weight of the revelation.
Zahhak allowed a small, approving smile. "Exactly."
Leo's brow furrowed, a trace of impatience creeping in. "But you still haven't explained how I can heal corruption."
"Most of the time, you can't," Zahhak said, his tone steady. "But if the corruption isn't too deep, there's a chance. To heal it, you must have the ability to touch the soul directly. First, you place a block in front of the Rule that is controlling it. Then you pull the corrupted energy out by creating a matching pull, essentially drawing it toward a controlled force instead of letting it fester."
Leo frowned. "How do you do that?"
"The first step can only be performed by the person within their own domain," Zahhak replied.
Leo's eyes narrowed. "Then how did you do that to me?"
Zahhak's lips curled into a faint smile. "We are in the Underworld. Here, the pulls are weak. To block the influence, you make the Rule of your own, creating a barrier that protects you from the pull."
Leo raised an eyebrow.
"From that expression, I can tell you already understand how to do it," Zahhak said.
Leo gave a small nod.
Zahhak continued. "The second step is harder. You must use the same path of that connection, to generate a power so strong that the corrupted part of the soul is drawn to it. You aren't forcing it out; you are offering it a stronger, safer pull that guides it away from the soul."
"How can you do that?" Leo asked, brow furrowed, voice tight with confusion. "You already blocked that path with the previous Rule. Even if you hadn't, that part of the soul is corrupted. How could you use that path at all?"
"That's exactly why most of the time, it's impossible," Zahhak said, his tone calm. "But if you know someone above S rank in that path, you can call on them for help. Their strength can stabilize the pull long enough for you to act."
Leo's mind immediately went to the Goddess of the Moon. He hesitated for a moment, then slowly nodded.
Zahhak's eyes darkened as he continued. "The final step is the hardest of all. You must confront that corrupted fragment of your own soul directly. When you destroy it, it will return to your soul. Only S ranks can face a godlike corruption shaped by the rules themselve, impossibly strong and relentless. Every strike, every pull of power, is a test. Fail, and the fragment consumes you. Succeed, and the healed piece of the soul shapes faster than normal toward that rule, strengthening your soul and severing the Rule's corruption forever. But only if you are not an idiot."
Leo's eyes widened. "So…"
"Yes," Zahhak said, a faint smile twisting his lips. "When you get out, you'll be far stronger than you are now."
Leo's gaze sharpened. "Was that your plan all along?"
"Who knows?" Zahhak replied, shrugging lightly, the corners of his mouth lifting just enough to be unsettling.
A few seconds of silence stretched between them. Then Zahhak asked, "Are you ready to leave?"
Leo nodded. Despite Zahhak's twisted personality, he had gained much. Knowledge, the mark, and power he hadn't expected.
Without another word, Zahhak let out a roar that echoed across the valleys, and a swirling portal of shadow tore open nearby, its edges writhing like living smoke.
Leo stepped toward it, then stopped. He glanced back at Zahhak.
"After I defeat the God of Light, I'll come here again," he said quietly. "This time, I'll go through that door."
"What's behind that door is controlled by Death himself," Zahhak warned, his tone low and serious.
"That is why I must go in there," Leo said, his jaw tightening. "I have questions only He can answer."
He then paused for a second again. "Is there anyone who have healed their corruption before?"
"Only two, but I will not named them." Zahhak answered.
Leo nodded and with that, he stepped through the portal. The shadow closed silently behind him, leaving nothing but darkness in its wake.
…
In the northern reaches of the Kingdom of Light, the battlefield was a wasteland, shattered by the force of magic and steel.
Iason's body radiated power from the potion he had consumed, making him move with unnatural speed and resilience. Yet, despite the boost, he was clearly being pushed back by Timon's overwhelming strength. Each strike Timon landed sliced into Iason's flesh, tearing chunks of muscle and burning his skin, but the potion's magic healed him faster than the eye could follow, leaving only faint scorch marks in its wake.
Timon surged forward, his sword wreathed in writhing shadows that hissed against the cold air. He swung with a speed that would have cut through any steel, but Iason was ready. With a flick of his wrist, he hurled a vial filled with a white, frothing liquid. Timon's blade smashed the glass mid swing. The liquid erupted into ice, shooting skyward in jagged shards. In seconds, the battlefield transformed into a cage of glittering frost, jagged pillars and icy spikes locking the ground and air alike.
Timon raised his sword, preparing to carve a path through the ice, when two more vials flew from either side. They shattered simultaneously, spreading frost in all directions. The ice grew violently, consuming every open space, trapping Timon in a massive crystalline prison.
But before Iason could act, shadows peeled from Timon's armor like living smoke, crawling across the ice. Thread like tendrils of darkness wrapped around the frozen walls, shattering them with a rasping crack. Timon stepped free, his eyes cold and focused, and charged again, shadows trailing like a second skin.
On the opposite side of the battlefield, Luciana and Hellen faced a far more relentless fight. They unleashed a storm of attacks, but every strike was met with invisible resistance. Luciana's blood spells seemed to dissipate against an unseen force, while Hellen's summons, drawn from close range, were easily intercepted and struck back. Every time one of Luciana or Hellen's creatures attacked, the damage ricocheted, leaving them bleeding and staggered. Their offense had become their liability, and with each failed strike, the pressure mounted, forcing them to retreat inch by inch.
After her last attack fizzled harmlessly against Aerwyna, Luciana drifted down, landing lightly beside Hellen.
"Any ideas?" she asked, brushing dust from her armor.
Hellen's eyes narrowed. "Actually… I do have an idea."
Luciana blinked, surprised. "Really? What should I do?"
Hellen leaned closer, her voice low. "She can see… what, two minutes into the future?"
"One minute," Luciana corrected.
"Good," Hellen said. "I need you to buy time."
Luciana nodded. "Understood."
She surged into the air, flying straight at Aerwyna, casting spell after spell, streams of blood magic streaked toward her like rivers of crimson. Each attack collided with Aerwyna's effortless defenses. She dodged, blocked, and shattered every one, moving with the fluid grace of someone who already knew what was coming.
"What are you planning with all of that?" Aerwyna asked, her voice tinged with amusement.
Luciana hesitated. She didn't know what she was talking about, but she understood that whatever Hellen was doing, Aerwyna already saw. She launched another volley of spells, and as the last one scattered harmlessly, the sky above shifted.
Clouds swirled violently, blotting out the sun. Then, from the darkness, tens of thousands of crows plummeted toward the battlefield, wings beating in a deafening, chaotic storm. Their cries filled the air like distant screams, blocking out everything else.
Suddenly, Aerwyna's expression shifted. Worry flickered across her face brief, but unmistakable.
Luciana's heart leapt. Finally, she saw a glimmer of hope. She didn't understand the full plan, the crows' purpose remained a mystery, but Aerwyna did, and her worry meant it was working.
Luciana raised her hands, feeling her mana surge outward. Blood rose from every direction, streaming upward in thick, crimson pillars, weaving together into towering walls that stretched to the sky. The walls encircled the battlefield, cutting off every possible escape. The enemy would have nowhere to run.
Then, a massive head emerged from the clouds, the colossal form of the Lóng. Lightning arced along its scales, crackling and leaping from one crow to another, connecting them into a web of electricity that seared the sky. The currents carved a single path, funneling Aerwyna into the center, leaving her isolated amid the chaos.
The Lóng opened its jaws, and a blinding beam of pure mana and lightning erupted, so immense that it filled every remaining gap in the battlefield. The sheer power radiated outward, scorching the air and forcing the clouds to swirl violently around it.
Luciana and Hellen crouched in the shadows at the edge of the battlefield, watching with a mix of awe and cautious hope. For the first time in the fight, they felt the tide might finally be turning.