Allan winced his body, trying to discern the voice and the possibility of a person close to him.

The woman on the ground shot her eyes open, revealing no longer clouded eyes with intent and pained expression. The candle still hurt her, but it wasn't over for her to die yet.

Without moving her body, she jolted her eyes to glance at Allan's figure. Confused, from her face, it was apparent that she was thinking about what she should do. “Who is it? Who are you?” She asked in a weak voice. Her body was unable to move, thanks to the underlying limitation and punishment of this candle.

Well, anyone would die if their heart bleed and a handful candle pierced her exposed heart. In fact, most of her chest cavity was exposed. Along with ribs, flesh, and a few other organs.

Her trembling voice was still hearable by Allan who hesitated to think even more about his choice of what to do. Should he follow those steady steps?

“I asked first,” he told back, backing away to a wall in an unsurprising confusion. The woman's voice was down, not far, nor close and he didn't know what to think of her.

“You... you are a blind boy? Huh?” she said weakly again, her eyes glowing in a strange foggy light. “N-no way...” She struggled with her voice, trying to sound as loud as possible while the last strength of her being was slowly creeping into her eyes. Her face twitched, as a slight smile crept around her cheeks. The residual blood around her face was making quite a sight, albeit not to Allan.

“I... Yes. Yes, I am. Are you hurt? Is there something wrong with you?” Allan asked as he could no longer figure out anything about this situation. He was even enticed to run on the spot, remembering 36's words that spoke of danger. Sarey's said to try his best, but what if his best means nothing when it comes to Immortal lands?

After all, what sort of place was this, other than exactly that?

“No. No... This... Is fine. Fine.” she said, turning her voice louder as if she was trying to scream. “I figured out what I need to do so, please... Help me.”

“H-help? With what?” Allan stood beside the wall, clutching his staff with his right hand while his left one touched the wooden wall.

“Simple thing, with simple enough reasons. Die for me!” She shrieked in a cry of horror, spreading a mist of foggy matter from her mouth. At the first second, the energy itself was indistinct, but not like it needed to be more than that.

The mist formed into an azure hand of a Spectral Ghost's origin. 4 sharp-fanged nails 10 centimeters long ended on the fingertips, wanting to clutch and end Allan's life.

Allan heard and felt the surroundings change. The air became colder, and slight trembling made him more than nervous.

Trembling?

His own heart pounded like crazy, while he heard her beating heart as well.

Hearing the word 'die' was enough, while the utterly livid scream jolted his mind. Panicking away from the danger of this person, Allan stumbled, and almost fell back to her body because of freshly looking blood.

Crawling back onto his path, he still heard those steady steps so he wanted to run, but it was too late. He got a couple of meters away from her, yet the Spectral Hand came, steering the air, and flying right toward him. It was looking like something intangible and impossible to defend, but Allan didn't know that.

The only source of his knowledge was basic knowledge that his life was in the danger, and this woman wanted him dead.

Something was coming for him.

Dreadful feelings and fear filled his heart. He felt something like this in the past. A helplessness, fear, and pain that almost obliterated his very being. Back then, he didn't feel a thing, saw, or heard.

It was jsut dull pain and a silencing void.

Death, it was.

The flowing Spectral Hand whistled through the air, while the parts of the sharp nails cleaved the fog. The hand was like a ghost's, but much fiercer, and terrifying.

Clink!

Allan turned on the spot, pulling his right hand upwards along with his staff that had his left hand on the left handle. The Spectral Hand struck the edge of his staff, pushing it forward since something like this can't stop an Immortal.

Allan held his own for one single moment but soon lost his strength as his grip was not enough, and neither was his staff. Spectral Hand clasped its fingers, shattering the wooden pole and twisting the metallic reinforcement apart.

Then, the fingers released the shattered wood, traveling fort and ending their attack right to Allan's neck. The force pushed him away in agonizing pain, searing nerves, and ending his push a dozen meters away into a wall. It cracked apart, revealing a room behind, yet Allan still stayed on his feet with his back facing the cracked wood.

Behind the crack, a pair of unruly eyes glanced to the hallway.

Coughing blood, Allan's mind turned to nothing but pained agony of the same thing he hates.

Helplessness.

Pain.

“NO! No... What is this?” He panicked, screaming and pushing his both hands onto this pain in his neck. His hand still gripped some part of the staff, as if he would never let it go, but he couldn't do a thing against this Energy.

Alas, it was too late to do anything, at least on his part. His own tries were futile since was unable to stop this mysterious energy from this woman.

Spectral Hand gripped his shoulder, yet struggled with following in the right direction to rip the neck and shoulder apart. Only a couple of fingers penetrated his skin while both missed the life-threatening wounds, or caused a serious injury.

A simple motion of twisting, or swiping would be more than enough to rip a huge chunk of flesh away, which would end his life without a problem. The Spectral Hand tried to do that, digging deeper, but it couldn't.

Sharp claws alone managed to dig bloody holes, leaking a lot of blood, and rightfully so. The arteries around the neck were plentiful in a human's neck. The blood seeped from the holes and suddenly, the blood and the Spectral Hand itself sparkled, ending up in deep raging flames along the humming inhuman screech.

Allan screamed alongside it, trying to stop this pain around his neck.

The Spectral Hand disappeared in a matter of seconds under the hotness, as if it was never there, to begin with.

Allan huffed, barely recognizing what was even happening. He saw no light that just hit this room, but he felt the comforting heat. It was helping him, once again.

Struggling to move away as shock entered his mind, he winced his neck and pain jolted his neck.

There was a fear. Fear of the unknown inside of his darkness.

“N-no...” Allan gripped the remains of his staff, and struggled to move his left hand which took some pressure as well. It trembled, but fingers and moving his shoulder wasn't that hard. His hearing was fine even in his shock and panic, albeit that didn't make him happy.

He could still feel receding steps from behind, as well as a sinister-sounding laugh coming from the hall.

“Hahaha. Die. Die! I am a winner you stupid ghost! Hahaha!” the lying woman laughed, maniacally twisting her face into an insane expression. She completely lost herself at this moment, on a brink of her death and an opportunity that wouldn't lead to her salvation. All it served was to calm her anger since she recognized the notion of this newcomer.

After a minute or so, she stopped laughing, noticing a figure walking back to the hallway. Slow steps, limp left hand, and head with bandages around the eyes. He was coming back in her direction. Weirdly enough, steam and slight searing sizzle were coming from the holes around his neck and left shoulder.

Blood no longer seeped from them.

It stopped, leaving him bloodied, but fine.

“I... Hate this.” Allan said, clutching half a meter of his remaining staff in his right hand. It crackled a little, but remained firm, unlike the rest on the ground, forming splinters into many parts. “This pain, this feeling. My blood is boiling with rage and disappointment, so tell me, mad woman. I seem to hear your heart rather clearly, and it's dying. I won't show mercy to the ones who want to kill me. It's something I've learned the hard way.” Allan muttered in crystal clear calmness after reaching her body.

He towered over her, listening to her breathing, beating heart, and smell.

“N-no! This isn't it!” woman spotted those words, hesitantly twisting her face in confusion and pain. “Y-you must help me! NO! You must! There is so much out there... No way death is worthy of me.“

“Worth? Death is everything. It's a price that everyone has to pay.” Allan said, and then crouched down, forcefully pushing his clutched staff right beside her head.

It hit the ground 10 centimeters away, cracking it, and showing her his resolve, and a bit clearer face.

He was calm, and the sizzle of his wound and smoke entered her eyes. “S-stop this. No. I... could be helpful!” she cried, but her body could not move. All the strength she had was to speak and use the last speck of energy within herself.

She prepared it before she struggled against 36 but to her disappointment, the punishment came to her with no regard.

“Help you?” Allan replied coldly, retrieving the staff from the ground and straightening his posture again. This posture was exactly how the woman was feeling.

Dominated.

Humiliated.

Overlooked.

It made her mad, and crazed.

“Y-y-yesyesyeysyes. You are a student of that mistake? Am I right? You are what I thought. Someone who is goings against the owners of this place. Am I right? Right?” She continuously talked with no sanity in her voice which was turning gaunter with each passing moment.

Allan crouched down again, pulling his bandages around his head to reveal the empty eye sockets. “Do I look like someone who cares about something like that?” He asked in an empty voice.

“H-how am I supposed to k-know?” she replied, unbothered, yet a bit fearful. She kept glancing at the wounds on his neck, researching them with her foggy eyes. “You... Don't matter. Help me... please... This pain within my heart... this suffering... I will get broken if you won't help me.” She continued while disregarding Allan's appearance and his words.

“Why would I do that? I almost died because you wanted me dead. Would you not kill me if I wanted you dead? It seems... ridiculous, and sensible. Dying, that is. Does it bother you that I have not died?” Allan still calmly asked, returning his bandages to his head, and getting up again.

“I was wrong... This place is wrong... I don't want to be a part of this anymore... Please. Please!” She pleaded for her fate, almost crying, yet her face wore no incarnations of her words. If one can't see, it's futile to move in sensible manners.

Sniffing the air, noticing the shimmering candle as well as the noticeable smell of burning flesh, Allan sighed. It could come from his own injury, but it wasn't that either. So, he decided to act for himself this time around, ignoring almost intangible steady steps that no longer were on this floor.

With his left hand, he followed his sense of smell and found the open wound in her chest. Her dark robe had split in the middle, with flesh and her chest sensible to his touch. The beating heart was most noticeable in his ear. It still revolved and looked more inhuman. Crimson veils and dark matter were on its surface, while the wax from the candle scorched the heart and the exposed skin.

The substance of the hot candle was directly pierced into it, leaving energy infusing the traumatic wound, enabling her to recover or use her Immortal arts.

Allan couldn't help but gulp as his own heart skip a beat. Touching the beating heart of another human being was a terrible experience, and he didn't want to do it. It was jsut for the fact of solving his inner desire and following his path. If he wanted to, squishing her hearth, or sticking the splintered wood inside would solve this situation.

The Candle was also a sick, unnatural thing to touch, let alone imagine. It was poking, convulsing from the touch, yet it kept going, leaving quite a hot wax to her heart.

He touched the cantle, traveling wiht his finger down, reaching the bottom where it led into her heart.

“Y-y-yes, yes, yes. Pull the candle out.” the woman shouted, pleading much stronger as her eyes looked at his actions. “I will give you something in return if you will help me! Something good.”

Though, assistance, persistence, and annoyance weren't Allan's forte.

“I am not here for your pleas, as death is lingering all over us. For you to remain here, it must be karma because of your life. Something that must be worth happening.”

“Karma? Huh?!” She suddenly changed to a rough voice, anger rising in her face. “So you are some high righteous prick who thinks he is better than everyone else?? You are a piece of shit! Nothing else. Do you think you can get out of this place that wants to solve this error? Death for you and your teacher is the least of your problem. You should be glad about my offer to you! You.. ehhh!” She stopped talking, feeling a sudden clutch of something precious. She glanced down toward her body, noticing a tight grip around her heart, not including the candle.

A palm quenched it wiht little to no desires but good enough power. As he did so, he moved his face closer to hers.

“Listen here. I will ask a question, and you won't tell a single lie. It sounds as simple as my words, understood?” Allan said with the same calm tone.

His action spoke more of his calmness, making this ashen woman turn placid and afraid. At that moment, she saw something crazy in this person she thought was what she thought.

“Y-you... Stop. I agree...” she whimpered.

“Alright.” Allan nodded, lowering his grip a little, which made her a little less strained. Yet, he returned his grip in a second. “I see we understand. First question. What is the situation within this place? Do you know something about the Trial and Examination?”

“Situation? I was just a worker... Unimportant personal. Someone who managed this prison for a lighter sentence than monsters that hid and served theirs at the Void Assylum.” She said, uttering the truth that she knew. “As for the Trial and Examinations of this place, they aren't known to many. Higher Artifact Souls would know about it. It is prohibited information for workers or prisoners. Death sentences follow if one gets near them.” She explained the whole truth.

“Good.” Allan nodded again, still clutching her heart with a calm face but tight grip. “Is my teacher someone who was imprisoned here like you?”

“N-no. He was a lunatic who slaughtered countless people... He was put there for tens of thousands of years according to the owners of this place. Rules, or so they believe. Or... Karma... it's ridiculous.”

“Who is the owner of this prison? You should know it, right?”

“Y-you don't know?” she asked, and a slight smirk appeared on her face along with foggy light that turned brighter in her iris.

“Answer the question.” Allan grabbed her heart higher, making her frown again and moan in pain.

“Ugh... Yes. Yes... The Ones. Their name is The Ones, alright? S-stop... with this.”

“What did you want to offer me for your saving?”

“N-no...You will kill me if I reveal this to you...”

“Hmph!” Allan sneered. “That is some proper attitude of an immoral character indeed. I may just let your heart loose to die in this state.” Allan casually responded to her useless remarks.

He could not be bothered by her at the moment, so he chose to increase the pace of his charade on his part. Getting information out of someone within this place, who wasn't 36 was rather unexpected. Considering the circumstances, that is.

Allan's heart beat like crazy since he had chosen the hard way to get what he wanted. However, this woman wanted to kill him for some reason or another, so he held no remorse, nor many emotions.

That, in itself, was a bit strange, as he feels detachment and whispers of letting this be over with.

A simple flex of his arm.

That's all to this foe.

A simple thing.

Women continued. “A-ask me whatever else... Don't... Just don't grasp my heart any more than this. You don't know how it feels. This pain of having your essence burning. To feel the Core crumbling...”

“And I don't want to think about it. Then what is the reason for you, killing me?”

“Isn't it obvious? Because it could get me rewards for solving an error that somewhat occurred within this place... Artifact Souls are unable to be judges. Workers could, as they work, follow missions or orders for lower sentences.”

“Error? Is she talking about the way I obtained The Diary of the Body, or how I started this process with 36 as a whole?” Allan wondered, and then voiced his next question after a simple nod.

“What kind of rewards?”

“A lighter sentence by half the amount and tokens for the Celestial Shards of middle grade. 10 of them.”

Allan could not understand the reward as the only place that he could wrap his around was the lowering of the sentence. Shards were most likely the currency of great organizations within the infinite cosmos, or The Ones made their own. That was at least what Allan thought, and guessed. He couldn't guess much from that.

“So, what do you expect with saving your life? Have you got this candle within your heart for no reason? I doubt it would be the case.” Allan already guessed at least this much without his eyes.

“FUCK... this boy is clever. He is grinding my nerves already, and literary. Fucker... Before, the teacher, and now, the student. This humiliation must be well perceived by the Artifact Souls or others. Yes. Perhaps the others...” The woman silently thought, trying to figure out her next actions after seeing his face and words. Her case was simple, after all. It was a death sentence after failing a mission that went against the greater rules of this place.

The only solving grace of this mass was her death, as rules are rules.

As for this reward? It was quite generous, but for killing a prisoner within still operating rules? That was dangerous, even though it was a hypocritical rule since 36 was outside of them.

None could break them, since others were still within the boundaries of their own shackled fates, and rules.

None could break them, even one, who made this mission from the start. Only a madman would take this mission or a desperate one. The cause and fate of such a decision was laying on the ground before Allan.

“Can't answer it, I guess,” Allan said, hearing her momentary silence. “That makes you a threat in my eyes no matter what so what do you say? Should I do something? My hand is itchy.”

“No. No! I can swear an oath! AN OATH!” she shouted as the last thing that could change her fate came to her memory.

“Oath? For whom and what?” Allan said, not following this topic, but appearing as if he did.

“Oath of the soul. Right? It should work well. I could swear not to harm you while not doing anything else than figuring out my life afterward. Giving you something in return will provide the other part of this oath. How about it?”

Allan fell to a silent ponder, traveling wiht his fingers around her heart to make her shiver. It worked well. “Go on then. Make the oath and follow through with what you said.”

“Y-you can do it yourself...” She hesitated in a weak voice. “Oath can be forced, and it's usually better performed by one with fewer stakes.”

“No. Do it yourself.” Allan said, furthering his grip since he can't be sure of it. 36 never mentioned any oaths or promises of his kind. A soul one? That seemed ridiculous in his opinion, but he was clutching a living heart and having a conversation along with it, so who was he kidding?

“Ugh! Alright! Alright. Wtop with the grip, I will do the Oath. It doesn't matter.” She helplessly cried in fake anguish, smirking at the success that only she knew about.

Then, she started a weird manner of speech and language, which made shimmering chains in the air. They appeared from space as if boundaries no longer mattered, and they were all indistinct, and incorporeal. Allan could not see them, but cracks were already within those chains.

This chain traveled from the air, reaching her heart, where it flowed through Allan's fingers, before attaching themselves.

“Now you. Say Aliuawathe, and get this over with,” she insisted.

Allan hesitated. And a lot. Should he take it? This offer that... Was ridiculous? Her voice seemed nervous and her heartbeat was quite fast. He was half-half sure she was honest or plotting something, but in the end, it was his description, so he uttered Aliuawathe, which was his agreement to the Oath.

The other part of the chain went to Allan, traveling through his body before finding its place around his heart.

He felt a small sensation of a needle-like strike, yet it happened in a moment and was gone in a moment. What he didn't notice, was that his chains weren't crackling apart.

“I am done with the Oath. T-take the candle out, will you? You understand it, right? Now, I can't kill you.” She said in a pleading way of self-assurance.

“First things first.” Allan touched his chest with his right hand, feeling that this wasn't as he expected. “What will I get in return?”

“I will give you my spatial pouch. That should be enough for my life, is it not?”

“An immortal pouch?” Allan shuddered inside, yet remained wiht a calm expression.

“Y-yes? Is that good? Then, take it from my lower pocket. It's around my robe. Weist left hip.”

In a bit, Allan let the staff in his right hand to the ground and found what she said. A handful pouch in a pocket ended up in his hand. It was a fistful-sized fabric pouch with a small strip around its opening.

From touch alone, it was empty, but as she said, it was a spatial object involving Immortal Realms. Allan can figure out at least this much, so he stored it around his waist, behind his back.

“I will take this offer then. Oath, I mean.” He agreed and put his right hand around the candle. Pulling it out in a quick motion, the woman screamed in pain and undeniable bliss as the blood flowed to within, or out of her bloody. That wasn't her concern, as Energy itself will return to her body and mind.

“T-thank you... Thank you.” She smirked within her otherwise, gleeful manner of speech and pleased voice.

“Take your life as yours. Your sentences will definitely get shorter if you wouldn't do this.” Allan told the last thing and retrieved his both hands from her chest.

Getting up while grabbing the broken staff from the ground, he returned to the direction out of this damned hallway. He walked in the direction those steady steps disappeared into, which seemed to be his direction.

The woman on the ground smiled wildly. Her crazy eyes turned to splendid crimson color, while the blood in her exposed chest bubbled with excitement. The energy that couldn't get, or was forcefully imprisoned within her body, returned to her use.

“This boy, he is completely clueless!” she confirmed her undeniable answers in her mind. Getting up to her feet in a strange manner, her feet barely touched the ground as her torso, head, and arms floated to a vertical standing position. Around her, an aura of energy and foggy matter flowed, changing to a deadly aura.

“Idiot,” she said wiht a mocking tone, as the air around her changed to dozen Spectral Hands. They were bigger, stronger, and much more corporeal than the one from before. All of them shot at Allan's back, who turned to get out of this space as soon as possible.

Unexpectedly, the small chain crumbled apart around her intact heart, albeit wiht a hole in the middle, which wasn't life-threatening.

What was peculiar was Allan's chains, which were supposed to crumble as well, but they stayed firm, making the Oath still active.