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Negary Pov :

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I floated in the middle of the dimly lit chamber, my ethereal form suspended in a meditative posture. Around me, the room was quiet, as if it knew something difficult was about to happen. My physical body lay still on the ornate bed, its chest rising and falling in rhythmic slumber.

The room was adorned with lavish tapestries and decorated with symbols of power. Fancy candle holders lined the walls, casting dancing shadows. The hearth crackled quietly, giving the room a warm, otherworldly glow.

I turned my attention to the task at hand, my soul's purpose clear. The challenge ahead was going to be tough. The idea of doing something that insane, well, it weighed heavily on my mind. The room's quietness seemed to make the situation more serious, as if the air itself understood the weight of what I was about to do.

With a deep breath, I focused my thoughts and steeled my resolve. This was going to be tricky, but it was a path I had chosen, one that held the promise of even greater power.

Hovering there, it was crystal clear why I was doing this. Three big reasons pushed me to attempt what I was about to do.

First, I really believed this could work. Like, I was almost sure, about 90% or so, that it wouldn't mess up my soul forever (and that I probably won't die). That kind of hope was driving me hard.

Second, I was stuck in my power level, and it was becoming increasingly obvious some drastic measures were needed. I couldn't just sit around being 'meh.'

My soul refinement method was good , but it was also very , very slow.

And as such, I needed to crack through my limits.

And taking on tough challenges? That's where the real magic happens.

Lastly, I couldn't ignore the sweet perks that might come out of this. If it worked, I'd have a killer advantage in future fights. And even if it flopped, it'd be a decent practice run for the next attempt. Striving for power never really ends, and every time we tackle crazy stuff like this, we level up, no matter the outcome.

Life's all about tackling big, scary stuff. We gotta smash our limits, laugh in the face of doubt, and aim for the sky. When things get dicey, that's when we grow the most. Anyway, I knew one thing for sure: I'd be coming out of it stronger and smarter, no matter how it played out.

'Well then... let's begin'

I began by drawing upon the knowledge Leaf had shared with me about soul concealing. Slowly, I merged my mana with the surroundings, adjusting it's feel just so, to trick any observing beings that I wasn't actually there, even though I was. This wasn't anywhere near mastery, but I hoped it would do the trick for now.

Leaf had taught me the basics, and I'd practiced relentlessly over the past week. While I still couldn't claim to be a pro, I was marginally better than I had been seven days ago. This was all in preparation, to make sure no prying eyes could perceive what I was about to attempt. Because if they did, it would negate part of the advantage my attempt might achieve.

With utmost precision, I initiated the initial phase. My ability to manipulate my soul, a skill that had been refined through relentless practice in hell, now took center stage.

My soul, which had long assumed a humanoid shape for convenience's sake, began to undergo a throughout transformation. Limbs that had once resembled a human's now deflated, resembling slowly deflating balloons. My body itself took on a more spherical form, akin to a shrinking balloon.

As I meticulously reshaped the essence of my being, it felt as though I were compressing raw, potent energy into an exceptionally dense and resilient core. This intricate process was like watching a balloon lose air and, at the same time, grow impossibly strong, straining against its own diminishment.

I held nothing back; the goal was to make it as small as possible, no larger than a tightly clenched fist. It condensed the essence of countless souls I had absorbed over time.

In this crucial moment, I adopted the mindset of a seasoned surgeon. I forcefully expelled any lingering, irrelevant thoughts and emotions, clearing the mental landscape for an unwavering focus on the task at hand. It was as if everything but the intricate procedure of soul manipulation faded away, leaving only this singular, paramount objective—the very essence of my existence.

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Having successfully condensed my soul into a compact sphere, the next step in this intricate procedure required a painstaking transformation. It was as if I were sculpting a delicate work of art, the masterpiece of my own being.

With meticulous precision, I began to elongate the spherical form, slowly and ever so delicately. Two opposing points of the sphere gradually stretched and extended, akin to the way a sphere might elongate into a cylinder. The process was both elegant and methodical, reminiscent of the way an embryo developed into a more complex form, elongating while maintaining its core structure.

The once-perfect sphere took on an ellipsoid shape, becoming cylindrical and subtly conical. It was an exercise in patience, control, and a profound connection to my own essence. Every millimeter of change was deliberate and calculated, as I inched closer to my final objective.

The room quivered under the force of my exertions, an unyielding testament to the struggle unfolding within. As I manipulated the shape of my soul, it transformed from its initial spherical form into an hourglass shape.

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Resistance, an unrelenting force, pressed against the contours of my soul. It tested the depths of my mental and spiritual resolve, pushing back with every ounce of strength it could muster. Yet, I remained steadfast, undeterred by the fierce opposition.

This was not unfamiliar territory for me. Life had been a relentless teacher, forging my resilience through countless trials. I had honed my mental toughness over the years, an unyielding determination that was now my greatest ally.

As the moments passed, the transformation continued. My soul, once spherical, now took on the desired hourglass shape. It was a testament to the power of perseverance, the unrelenting force of will that could overcome even the most daunting obstacles.

As I continued to maintain the new shape of my soul, a painful irony unfolded. It was as if my very essence was tearing at the seams, a sensation that surged through me like a tidal wave of pain.

It was a relentless reminder of the price I paid for pushing the boundaries of my abilities. My soul, stretched beyond its limits, was already showing signs of damage.

But I persevered, for this was 𝗲𝘅𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗹𝘆 what I wanted.

'One must choose the pain of discipline or the pain or regret...there is no other option...'

As I continued to manipulate my soul, elongating the neck of the hourglass-like shape I had formed, a wave of excruciating sensations washed over me. It was a torment unlike any I had felt in a long time.

Nausea churned in the pit of my non-existent stomach, and a lightheadedness swept over me like a suffocating fog. My senses were assaulted by the unsettling feeling of disconnection from my own existence.

But I pressed on, determined to push through the distressing sensations. Every fiber of my being screamed against the strain, and my soul seemed to protest with each inch I elongated the neck of the hourglass. The pain was agonizing, but I couldn't let it deter me from my goal.

As I struggled to maintain the extended strand between the two soul bulbs, a peculiar sense of dichotomy engulfed me. It was as if I was in two different places at once , sensing everything around me twice over.

This was different from my Warging experiments with Ser Joy on a fundamental level. There , it was only as if I saw two images at once , one through my own eyes and one through his, but now...now I literally felt divided...

Thankfully, my thinking didn't seem to have been affected...but I was still struggling to maintain the form I had deemed best suited for my experiment, so I slowly and carefully allowed my grip on my own soul to lessen, allowing the two soul bulbs to expand.

The pain persisted, though it had diminished somewhat as I forced my soul to adapt to this newfound state. It was still a delicate balance, one that required immense concentration. I could still feel the strain radiating through me, like a taut wire about to snap.

With my consciousness partially extended outward, I reached for a stash of purified souls I had kept for this very experiment. Their essence, untainted and potent, called out to me, and I greedily devoured their soul energy, uncaring for their memories and skills that were lost in the process. It was a replenishing warmth that flowed through the strained connection between the soul bulbs, mending some of the wounded damage on both of them.

As I fed on the purified souls, I used one focus , while willing the other to remain inert. It absorbed the soul energy with precision, directing it to the areas that needed mending. The damaged strands of my divided soul began to heal, knitting themselves back together.

'To think I had to resort to building more ,,processors,,...I guess threading is quite hard to do when altering the very fabric of reality...and to think I used to laugh at the Children of the Forest for their ,,archaic,, methods...heh, ironic'

Simultaneously, I employed the newly acquired second focus, channeling my mana into the thin tether that connected my two halves. It was a delicate interplay of energy and willpower. With each surge of mana, I lengthened and narrowed the strand further, fortifying it against the tremendous pressure it still endured.

Time seemed to stretch and blur as I worked. The room around me pulsated with the raw power I channeled. The dichotomy I had initially felt began to shift, gradually merging into a more harmonious state. My divided soul started to find a semblance of equilibrium.

But it was far from over. I could sense that the soul strand was still fragile, its integrity susceptible to the slightest disruption. The pain persisted, a constant reminder of the monumental task I had undertaken.

I continued to draw upon the purified souls, allowing their essence to seep into the very core of my being. It was a symbiotic dance of consumption and restoration. My own soul became a repository of newfound strength, while the depleted souls I had consumed found a renewed purpose within me.

The room continued to tremble as I pushed my limits further. It was as if the very fabric of reality responded to my endeavor, quivering in resonance.

But I couldn't afford to falter. I was determined to complete this transformation, to push the boundaries of my own existence. The dichotomy that had plagued me was slowly fading, replaced by a sense of unity, albeit one held together by an impossibly thin thread.

With each passing moment, the soul strand became more resilient, the two bulbs of my divided soul drifting freely in the royal chamber. The pain was still present, but it was now tempered by a growing sense of accomplishment.

Because I had succeed...unexpectedly.

'My very own horcrux...well yes , but actually no'

I exerted my will, the puppeteer of my own essence. The two soul bulbs obeyed my command, gradually taking on the appearance of masculine forms, their features defined and bathed in a pulsing violet light. With each subtle tug of my mental strings, their transformation continued until they stood before each other, both exuding the same powerful, violet-tinged aura , both connected by an invisible string of mana.

The division within me was palpable, yet it didn't diminish my sense of self. In fact, it made me feel more complete in an inexplicable way.

I was both the puppeteer and the puppets, the conductor and the orchestra.

Maintaining this connection between the two soul bulbs required a continuous flow of my mana, like an unbroken thread binding them together. It was a demanding task, siphoning my energy to uphold this newfound duality.

Yet, despite the strain, I couldn't help but revel in this sensation of being more, of transcending the limits of a singular existence.

I was divided, yet whole, and it was a feeling unlike any I had ever experienced.

And the best part was that I 𝗸𝗻𝗲𝘄 I would be able to merge them together if I so whished, but why would I do that? Granted, most of the mana I produced was being used up by the tether connecting my soul, but that could be solved by improving my soul foundation which was quite damaged during the procedure. Both of my souls had a bit over a hundred souls worth of soul energy , and I was glad to see that the forceful refinement I did meant that they could host as much as three times that. Unfortunately, trying to do it again would have to wait for the underlying damage to heal a bit...

'I might not be afraid of death , but that doesn't mean I yearn for it...' my thoughts echoed through both of my souls.

"This will take a while to get used to" the one on the left side said , it's monotone voice resounding in the chamber. The other bulb remained silent. It was part of me after all , and I had no intention of talking to myself just yet...

As the bizarre unity of my divided soul settled within me, an unhinged laughter bubbled up from deep within my core. It was a laughter that remained silent, unheard by the living inhabitants of the castle.

My mirth was unfettered, a wild release of emotions that I couldn't contain. It echoed through the chamber, though the world around me remained oblivious to my internal chaos.

But even in the throes of this maniacal laughter, I could sense the need to regain control. Slowly, I reined in my unruly emotions, the laughter subsiding as I remembered those words:

"If you can meet with triumph and disaster, and treat those two imposters just the same..."

These words echoed in my mind like a mantra, a reminder that my newfound power came with it's own downsides that needed to be accounted for and diminished. I couldn't allow myself to be swayed by happiness because of a small win. Instead, I needed to harness it, to use it as a tool to achieve my goals.

With renewed determination, I suppressed the laughter of my soul bulbs, regaining my composure. The room fell back into silence, the only sound the faint crackling of the hearth. I was once again the puppeteer, in control of the intricate dance of my divided soul.

"Now , let's find another flesh golem...and then..the real game can begin" both of my souls uttered at the same time , in perfect sync.

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Third person Pov :

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Amid the vast expanse of the continent Essos, a land of diverse cultures and sprawling cities, a moment of legend was unfolding. In the heart of this ancient land, the city of Vaes Dothrak stood as a testament to the nomadic traditions of the Dothraki, its vast grasslands stretching out in every direction.

At the heart of this city, a mighty pyre had been erected, a colossal structure of timber and firewood. Its flames danced like frenzied spirits, casting flickering shadows that painted the surroundings in an eerie, orange glow. The night air was thick with tension, as if the very elements themselves held their breath.

Amidst the searing heat and swirling embers, Daenerys Targaryen emerged from the inferno, a figure of ethereal beauty and power. Her silver hair, like strands of moonlight, cascaded down her back, and her violet eyes glimmered with an otherworldly fire.

The flames seemed to bow in deference to her, parting to reveal her unscathed form. She walked with an air of regal grace, her steps echoing through the awestruck silence of the onlookers. The Dothraki, warriors and nomads alike, knelt in reverence, their faces illuminated by the fiery spectacle.

Daenerys, the Mother of Dragons, had not only survived the flames, but she had hatched three dragon eggs in the process. The power she now wielded was beyond comprehension, a force of nature made manifest.

As she walked away from the pyre, the city of Vaes Dothrak lay at her feet, the moonlight illuminating its vastness. It was a moment etched in history, a queen reborn from the ashes, her destiny intertwined with fire and blood...

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