Karl's gaze swept coldly over the two burning figures, the flames casting distorted shadows across his stern face. His voice carried unmistakable contempt as he spoke.
"Philip, from the very beginning to the very end, she never believed she had done anything wrong."
The crackling of fire answered him as the wooden house groaned under the heat. Anna's body and that of the nameless adulterer were already little more than blackened shapes, the flames devouring flesh and bone without mercy.
"Her begging at the end," Karl continued evenly, "wasn't repentance. It was fear. Death was closing in, so she acted—performed—for the chance to save herself."
Philip sat slumped on the floor, back against a scorched beam. His eyes were unfocused, empty, as if whatever Karl said could no longer reach him.
"In her heart," Karl concluded coldly, "there was only herself. Only her desires."
The fire roared louder, sparks leaping toward the ceiling as the structure began to collapse inward. Philip remained motionless, unmoved by either flame or word.
Karl stood beside him, expression rigid, preparing to speak again—when suddenly his eyes sharpened.
Above the leaping flames and the burning corpses, something stirred.
Two faint silhouettes slowly emerged, barely visible, almost transparent. They hovered unsteadily, shaped exactly like the bodies below, as though shadows had been peeled free from flesh.
They wavered like smoke caught in an unseen current, drifting upward from the collapsing remains.
"Souls?" Karl murmured.
In a world filled with spells, monsters, and powers beyond common sense, souls were no mere legend. Yet this was the first time he had seen them so clearly.
He watched as the two phantoms gradually stabilized, confusion fading from their features as awareness returned.
Anna's soul looked exactly as Karl expected. Even stripped of flesh, her face still twisted with malice, resentment, and venom. The adulterer's soul, by contrast, was wide-eyed and frantic, terror etched into every contour.
With a thought, Karl extended his invisible Bio-Force Field, attempting to touch them—then pull, then crush.
Nothing happened.
The field passed straight through both souls as if through empty air, stirring no reaction at all.
Karl frowned slightly and tried again, increasing pressure, altering direction, compressing the force. Still nothing.
No matter how he manipulated it, his Bio-Force Field could not interact with the souls in any meaningful way.
"They exist on a different plane," Karl realized. "Beyond physical force."
At that moment, the two souls appeared to notice him—and Philip.
Anna's soul reacted instantly.
The venom radiating from her was far thicker than it had ever been in life. Her translucent face twisted violently as she let out a shrill scream, one that never touched the air yet tore directly through Karl's mind.
"You heartless villains!" she shrieked. "Murderers! You deserve to die!"
Her soul lunged forward wildly, clawing with phantom hands that passed uselessly through the living world.
Beside her, the adulterer's soul panicked. He spotted the blood-stained steel sword Philip had dropped earlier and rushed toward it, desperation driving him.
He grasped at the hilt.
His hand passed straight through.
Again and again he tried, but no matter how frantically he reached, he could touch nothing. His terror escalated into wordless panic.
As both souls thrashed in hatred and fear, an invisible force suddenly descended upon them.
It was vast and irresistible—like an enormous lodestone exerting a pull no soul could resist.
The two spirits shuddered, then began drifting upward, as though drawn into an unseen channel in the air. Their movements became involuntary, dragged toward the roof and beyond.
Karl's eyes narrowed sharply.
"A summons from the Netherworld?" he muttered, cold light flashing in his gaze.
After all they had done, after their betrayal and filth, their souls were simply going to be claimed and sent on? Whether to rest, be judged, or linger as specters—none of it sat right with him.
"Not so cheap," Karl said flatly.
He recalled the scant Power of Faith he had recently obtained. Unlike physical force or raw magic, it was spiritual and mental in origin—something that might exist on the same plane as souls.
Without hesitation, Karl focused inward.
A faint golden light bloomed within his consciousness as he drew out the limited but pure Power of Faith. Carefully, he compressed it, refining it until two small orbs—each no larger than a bean—hovered at his fingertips, glowing softly.
With a flick of his fingers, he sent them flying.
They ignored all physical obstruction, passing effortlessly through flame, smoke, and air.
"Sssht! Sssht!"
The golden orbs struck Anna's soul and the adulterer's soul just as the invisible pull dragged them upward.
The reaction was immediate.
"Aaaargh—!!"
"Ugh—aaaah!!!"
Two shrill, indescribable howls exploded inside Karl's mind. They were not sounds, but pure expressions of agony—screams torn from the very core of existence.
The pain contained within them was absolute, accompanied by the primal terror of annihilation.
Philip stirred.
Though he could see nothing, some instinctive awareness made him lift his head, eyes unfocused, as if sensing a presence beyond the physical.
Karl watched without expression.
The two soul-shapes twisted violently, warping like bubbles pierced by needles. They convulsed, stretched, and finally—
Pop.
They burst apart.
There was no explosion, no sound, no echo. Only an eerie silence, as though something fundamental had been erased.
Yet the space they occupied was not empty.
Two small clumps remained, each about the size of an egg yolk. They were colorless and translucent, swirling slowly like mist trapped in an invisible sphere.
They radiated an ineffable, primordial spiritual aura.
Karl's eyes flickered with surprise.
"So this is…" he murmured.
He raised one hand in a summoning gesture, and the two formless clumps drifted obediently toward him, hovering above his palm.
"…the purest origin left behind after a soul is obliterated by faith."
A smile tugged faintly at the corner of his mouth.
"Excellent," he said quietly. "Absolutely excellent."
He could sense it clearly—these remnants were flawlessly pure, yet carried faint traces of vital information, fragments of what had once been identity and existence.
Their exact use was unknown, but every instinct screamed the same truth.
They were priceless.
With a thought, Karl stored the two clumps of Soul Origin alongside his meager reserves of Power of Faith, sealing them away for future study.
Then he turned back to Philip.
Grasping him firmly, Karl hauled the still-dazed man to his feet. Splitting his focus, he channeled a fire spell, intensifying the blaze until the house was fully engulfed, ensuring nothing remained behind.
He clapped Philip on the shoulder sharply.
"Snap out of it, Philip!"
The command rang through the burning structure.
"Mourning and blaming yourself over a sow stupider than a forest boar—and forever hungry for more?" Karl continued harshly. "That's not the Philip I know."
Philip's eyes flickered faintly.
"The Philip I know," Karl pressed on, "is the man who sweated on the training grounds, swearing to become my right-hand man."
He leaned closer, voice carrying undeniable authority.
"Remember who you are. A retainer of the Grand Duke of La Valette. A future knight, destined for honor and rank."
Philip's breathing steadied slightly.
"Think of the brothers who fight beside you," Karl said. "The men whose backs you trust—and who trust yours."
The fire roared around them, but Karl's voice cut through it.
"With your position and prospects, here in Terra—or anywhere in Temeria—you could find a woman a thousand times better than Anna. One who would cherish you."
Finally, Karl locked eyes with him.
"And I need you, Philip," he said slowly. "Remember your oath. You are my squire."
Those words, infused with Karl's will, flowed like warmth into Philip's frozen heart.
The emptiness in his gaze faded. Resolve returned, along with a trace of shame.
Philip straightened, drawing in a deep breath of scorched air. His chest rose and fell steadily as he answered firmly.
"You're right, Lord Karl," he said.
"It was I who lost my head—nearly undone by filth like this. I betrayed your trust."
He bowed his head briefly.
"Philip understands now."
The flames roared behind them, consuming the last remnants of the past.
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