Chapter 196: Soul-Devouring Vessel
A cold wind howled across the frozen expanse, while sunlight pierced through thin clouds, glinting harshly on the endless white ice. The light felt sharp—almost painful—like needles pricking the eyes.
Rising mountains surged like jagged bones beneath a veil of endless shadow, and deep within their crags stood a towering black spire—its peak as sharp as a claw, stabbing toward the sky, as if poised to tear open the heavens. The air around it hummed with dread.
This was the Tower of Eternal Night.
And at this very moment, Stuffed Bun, Singo, and Tian Sheng Zhan Kuang stood at the very bottom of the demonic tower.
Tian Sheng Zhan Kuang led them through the labyrinthine depths, finally stopping before a hidden chamber. He pressed a hidden mechanism.
"I fought my way through every trap and guardian," he said, voice low. "And here—this is what I found."
Before them rested an eerie vessel: a strange, twisted urn. Its mouth was shaped like a snarling dragon’s head, its jaws forever frozen in a silent scream. From within, faint, agonized wails echoed—dozens, perhaps hundreds, of Spiritual Souls trapped in torment, writhing in silent agony. Beneath the suffering, a faint, chilling laugh lingered—ancient, hidden, and utterly malicious.
Singo studied the artifact closely, searching for clues. “This thing… it feels familiar.”
But Stuffed Bun stepped forward without hesitation. “Looks like a magical artifact to me. Could be a Soul-Refining Banner—or something even rarer. You two stay back. I’ll take a closer look.”
“Wait—!” Singo snapped, suddenly alarmed.
“What?” Stuffed Bun turned, hands already reaching for the urn, his expression puzzled. “What’s the big deal? Why’re you so tense?”
Then—his eyes rolled back. White. Then—splitting into vertical pupils, blood-red and unnaturally wide. A feverish, ecstatic light flickered in their depths.
A phantom shadow erupted from the urn, slithering through the air like smoke, and plunged straight into Stuffed Bun’s mouth and nose.
> [Soul-Devouring Vessel]
The infamous Sixth-Rank Necromantic Spell. The Demon Vessel served as a prison for Spiritual Souls, capable of possessing a host the moment contact was made. Once bound, the original soul was trapped within the vessel, its consciousness confined to the realm of perception—unable to move, unable to act, only to watch.
The new occupant—now wearing Stuffed Bun’s face—lowered his head, running his hands over the body with reverent, almost sensual care. His clawed fingers traced the scales of the Half-Dragon, caressing every ripple of muscle beneath the skin.
“Ah… such a perfect vessel,” he sighed, voice thick with ecstasy. “A flawless, side-effect-free Bloodline Fusion—the fire and strength of the Red Dragon… I’ve spent a century experimenting, and this… this is perfection.”
He chuckled. “Good thing I left a sliver of my Spiritual Soul behind. To catch the petty thieves who’d dare steal from me.”
Singo narrowed his eyes, voice ice-cold. “You’re not him. Who the hell are you?”
Tian Sheng Zhan Kuang gripped his Battle Axe tighter, veins bulging along his arms, his body coiled like a spring ready to unleash Frenzied rage.
They both knew—Stuffed Bun was gone. Replaced.
But the false Stuffed Bun didn’t react. He was lost in the thrill of his new form, whispering like a poet enraptured.
“Such power… if my instincts are correct, the true master of this body—that Red Dragon—must be an even greater marvel. How exquisite…”
Only then did he notice the two figures before him.
Though the face remained Stuffed Bun’s, the crimson vertical pupils locked onto them—cold, merciless, and utterly devoid of humanity. The very air around him grew thick with menace.
“Ah… two more precious specimens,” he murmured, bowing slightly, a chilling smile spreading across his lips. “Today is a most fruitful day.”
He straightened, his voice smooth, almost courteous. “Forgive me—I forgot to introduce myself. I am a Sorcerer, a connoisseur of art… and a devoted follower of the Dragon. You may call me Wagner, as I was known in my mortal days.”
He tilted his head, as if savoring the moment. “We’ll be spending a long time together, I suspect.”
Wagner, the Dragon-Frenzied Black Wizard—once a man captured by the Dragon Witch Cult, driven mad by the sight of his wife being devoured as a Sacrificial Offering. In his grief, he abandoned all humanity, chasing only the Might of the Dragon, willing to do anything to achieve it.
He had transformed his own daughter into a Monster, imprisoned countless Dragonized Beasts within this tower, and even kept a true White Dragon in chains.
Unlike the Dragon Witch Cult, Wagner did not worship evil dragons as gods. He revered only their Power—and to claim it, he crafted dark spells to trap them, sacrificing everything—even his beloved daughter—to perfect his experiments.
“Ah…?” Wagner turned his head toward the Soul-Devouring Vessel, pressing his ear close, as if listening to a whisper.
Inside the urn, Stuffed Bun’s Spiritual Soul raged, screaming in fury—calling Wagner a monster, a father who betrayed his own child.
As a Player, Stuffed Bun felt rage, but not fear. After all, he could Respawn. A few Experience Points lost, and he’d be back—new life, new chance.
“You monster,” the soul spat. “You’d do that to your own daughter? You should’ve been—”
Wagner let out a soft, cruel laugh. “You mean my daughter?”
He smiled. “I loved her. I gave her everything. But her bloodline was too weak… she failed to rise to greatness. I had no choice.”
He paused, voice softening, almost tender. “So I replaced her limbs, her torso, her legs—every part—replaced them with the finest Dragonization organs. Look at her scales… the pulse of Dragon Blood… the strength in her muscles. Isn’t this so much better than the frail, mortal shell she once had?”
His eyes gleamed with obsession. “She is now my finest masterpiece. Better than any I’ve made before.”
Just then—Singo struck.
In the instant Wagner’s attention wavered, he activated Hunter’s Mark, branding the black sorcerer’s skull. An arrow shot forth—silent, swift, deadly.
But Wagner’s body flickered with a dark Arcane Energy Field, and the arrow shattered mid-air, reduced to ash.
“Ah,” Wagner said, almost amused. “That was your companion’s body. If I, a Fragmented Soul, were to vanish… his body dies too. And your friend? He’d be trapped in this vessel forever.”
Before Wagner could react, Tian Sheng Zhan Kuang roared—a sound of pure Frenzied fury—and charged forward, swinging his Battle Axe in a brutal overhead cleave.
“Die!”
Wagner’s expression didn’t change. A flicker of amusement danced in his hollow, Fear-tinged eyes—like two black holes swallowing light.
> [Soul-Stealing Gaze]
A wave of darkness flashed from his pupils.
Tian Sheng Zhan Kuang collapsed instantly, falling to the frozen ground like a puppet with its strings cut.
Singo was hit too—but his neck flared with pain as a Triggered Needle Device—crafted by the Mechanical Divinity—jerked deep into his spine, jolting him awake from the trance.
He gasped, shaking off the daze.
“Huh?” Wagner’s lips curled into a grin. “Interesting little toy.”
His eyes flared red once more.
> [Dominate Human]
No words. No incantation. Only a silent command, unleashed through sheer Divine Power.
Singo’s mind seized. A crushing force seized his will—absolute, unbreakable. There was no resistance. No hope.
Even though Wagner was but a Fragmented Soul, the depth of his centuries-old power—a storm of dark Divine Energy—was overwhelming. To a Newbie player like Singo, it was like trying to swim against a tidal wave.
(End of Chapter)
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