Wounds began to accumulate on Cain, Cessair, and everyone in the group. They were just a small band facing the relentless sea. A sea with thousands of Shades trying to bite and score their flesh, accumulating wounds was inevitable.

Cain's armor slowly broke down, revealing his pale skin. He could no longer shield his body, his imagination had run dry, and exhaustion was taking its toll.

As they were pushed further back, receding step by step, countless corpses lay in their wake. But even with so many dead, many more replaced them and room to move became less and less as Cain and the rest huddle closer together.

Hope dimmed. The group found themselves cornered in a small gap between two large rocks. Shades leaped on them from above and below, swarming akin to insects over dung.

'There are too many... I guess even that bastard is going to die here. Heh, at least he finally met his match.' Cain inwardly laughed at his end.

He was too tired to think clearly, and he had forgotten one crucial thing his counterpart possessed that he didn't. Something he deemed wrong and immoral.

But morality wasn't something his counterpart cared much about, at least the morals of others. He had used this ability multiple times. It was one of the first powers Cain discovered in the Animum virus, the aspect of affecting the soul.

Cain himself didn't wish to use Animum, he was fine dying in this place not using his last trump card. He would rather become his own person without relying on things he had already chosen to throw away, similar to how he now uses a straight sword.

But with Animum, Cain could amass an army from those he had killed, an army born from his mist, enslaved for his never-ending battle for freedom.

Looking up, above the gaps between the Shades, Cain's eyes sparkled as he saw a red light rapidly descending from above. As his wounds accumulated, the blood seeping from his injuries began to flow upward.

The droplets appeared suspended in the air as if gravity had momentarily ceased to work... and then it returned.

Swoosh!

In an instant, a torrent of blood tore the dark creatures apart, freeing the hunting party from the clutches of death. Blood rained down, and before them stood a hazy figure. His features were partially discernible, and he held a strange and powerful spear in his left hand.

"A mist apparition? When did he acquire such a potent one? Is it someone from the Ocean of Deep Ones?" Cain was taken aback by such a powerful servant.

Luckily, he didn't need to speculate about the ghost's origins. Rex's voice soon confirmed their identity.

"Leon?"

Almost immediately, Dalax blurted out upon hearing his captain, "Leon! The Master wielding Light and Fire?! He came to save us?"

On cue, Cain informed his team about Leon's situation. He knew all too well how someone became a mist apparition.

"No, he didn't come here voluntarily. It's under the orders of that Shade..."

"What?! How?!"

All eyes locked on Cain, he could feel their shock....and fear.

"It's an ability... a sickening one that allows him to bind those he kills to him."

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Rex summoned a pair of dried hands that were similar to raisins. They lifted him up and helped him stand, he long since lost his savage form.

Stepping forward, Rex studied Leon's misty form for a moment, his emotions hidden behind his mask.

"That would explain why he looks like that. Leon used a spear made from fire and light. But now he's using a spear of blood..."

"The Shade probably ambushed him and corrupted everything about him. He's always been good at tricking people into doing his bidding," Cain explained, shedding light on how his Shade self could effectively kill and acquire the Dream Master.

This also demonstrated that Masters weren't all-powerful, or at least their imagination wasn't. Otherwise, Leon wouldn't have died.

'Or maybe he talked him into it...taking advantage of his mental state or weakness...'

Cain knew himself well, he was even better at trickery and manipulation than fighting.

Yet, the most surprising thing hadn't been uncovered. It was the fact Leon could speak.

Opening his mouth, the mist's ethereal and stern voice made its way to the conversing party, "You shouldn't speak so harshly of him. Yes, I fell to him, but he helped me in turn. I have come to terms with it and am also intrigued by what my killer seeks."

"You...you can speak!" Cain fell backward, only to be helped by one of Rex's wrinkly arms.

Leon stroked his bushy mane, though his beard was made of mist, so instead, his hand merely passed through after a thorough stroke, "Of course. Unlike the others, I am not so saddened by my new form. Driven not by hatred, not broken by despair, I can still operate as a living being... well, somewhat living now."

Cain stared at the ghost, his confusion only surpassed by his amazement at Leon's mental fortitude. Rex, standing beside him, was equally bewildered.

"Hello, Leon... if that really is you. May I ask how you exactly became... this?"

"Of course, but first, I have to make it quiet. The Master doesn't like it when it's loud."

The horde finally regrouped as Leon finished his sentence and launched another attack. Like a fierce wave, they surged over the rocks and into the crevice where the injured group was huddled.

In response, a ray of light emanated from Leon's body. A myriad of beams made from tiny sanguine particles emerged and formed a barrier against the horde.

Taking shape, many more Demons were created from the mist. Weapons and armor materialized on their bodies as they hacked and slashed at the Shades, who could do nothing but instinctively corrode or damage some of the simpler gear imagined by the ghosts.

"They can use imagination as well!" Cain's jaw became unhinged.

Leon gazed at the fierce group of warriors he had trained while residing in his Master's mindscape. He chuckled, "Where the mind exists, imagination follows."

The Shades attempted to stop and kill the mist ghosts, but the ghosts were rooted in reality. They weren't imagined or created from nothing. They had substance, and their souls gave them form. Even after being destroyed, they would reappear as the mist converged once again.

The ghosts were an unkillable army, reaped from battlefields and repurposed into killing machines for their lord.

"He... he really is planning it then..."

Cain's words surprised Leon, but the older man understood what his Master's other half was talking about.

"Yes..." He muttered his response, dispirited by his own answer.

With the help of the mist ghosts and Leon's intervention here and there, the Shades were pushed back even farther than they were at the beginning.

Injured and resting, Cain and his group were under their care, mere bystanders to the massacre unfolding before them.

Black sand billowed above the battlefield, and fields drenched in red flowed across the sea of black, striking down their adversaries one by one. Metal clanging turning ever more distant.

'Why didn't he release them from the start... was he testing us? Was he testing me?' Cain abruptly stopped his thoughts, 'Hah.....he really is going to do it...'

Although Cain was perplexed by how the situation had evolved, Leon's earlier answer was concerning.

'If he does plan to do it, then I need to stop him... but I'm too weak.'

How could he get stronger? Find a purpose? Develop conviction? Should he train endlessly or seek magical remedies? Cain didn't know, but all he could do was be himself and, in doing so, discover what he wanted to do with the power he wished to gain.

Would he spend the rest of his life trying to thwart the other half he was bound to, or would he pursue another path that might bring an end to both their lives?

The future held many possibilities, but in the face of looming powers like the system and fate, everything seemed bleak.

...

As the battle approached far into the horizon, a massive explosion erupted like a sonic wave.

Behind Cain and his comrades, a beam of dark light stretched into the sky. Everything seemed hazy and weakened, and fear crept into their hearts. They sensed a presence that sought to devour life itself, it was strange and terrifying.

Dalax held Arlen even closer to his chest, the one who had been taking care of his teammate all this time.

Rex stood up. "Just what....."