As I inspected the newly formed ring around my core, I noticed unresolved divots littering the spherical shape of my heart core. Once smooth and unblemished, it now bore the scars of overexertion. The tendrils of necromantic energy I had unleashed had cut deep into its surface, leaving grooves where they had once tethered me to the undead creatures I created. Normally, the energy I used wouldn’t leave such significant marks, and on the rare occasions it did, whatever divots were left healed quickly as my core replenished itself.

So why not this time?

I frowned, leaning closer to examine the sphere. Intangible fingers traced its surface, running along the divots that disrupted its otherwise seamless form. The markings formed a pattern—one I couldn’t immediately recognize. The lines crisscrossed in straight, curved, and diagonal directions, seemingly random at first but undeniably intentional upon closer inspection.

Despite the disfiguration, the core’s power output seemed unaffected.

I’ve never seen this before, I thought, my phantom fingers tracing one of the lines. It must mean something.

Over the next few days, I monitored my core, hoping it would heal. I spent most of my time cultivating energy and training, pushing my body and spirit to their limits. My heart energy increased steadily, which should have begun repairing the damage. Yet, nothing changed.

“Is it healing?” Nasq asked on the sixth day, panting between gasps after enduring my relentless barrage of attacks.

“No, not yet,” I replied, irritation seeping into my tone.

“Strange.” He rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. “I’ve never heard of a core being damaged like that.”

“Temporary damage to a core’s surface is fairly common with more… volatile energy types.” I retrieved his wooden staff from the training field where my strike had sent it flying and tossed it back to him.

“I’m so sick of this shitty training field,” Nida grumbled. I couldn’t help but agree. What had once been a clean, grassy area was now little more than a barren wasteland of dirt piles, craters, and residual energy stains.

“How volatile are we talking?” Nasq pressed, almost simultaneously with Nida’s complaint. His eyes widened in realization. "Wait... volatile as in a negative energy type?"

I sighed and let out a soft groan, conceding to his curiosity. “Yes. Necromancy.”

“I knew it,” Nasq exclaimed, his grin widening as he pumped a fist. “That’s what you used back at the Sealrite banquet, right?” I nodded. “When we’re done here, we should visit the Lysoria University of Magic. I think Your Grace would find it incredibly useful.”

“It’s a consideration,” I admitted. We sparred for another hour until the sun dipped below the horizon. Finally, I called a halt to the session. “Get some rest. Don't forget the tournament starts tomorrow morning.”

Nasq groaned from where he lay sprawled on the ground, his left eye bruised from one of my earlier strikes. “My lady, I’d really rather not—”

“You’ll both compete in the lower division to match your skill levels,” I interrupted. “I’ve already arranged for your entry. Hannah will give you your acceptance letters tomorrow morning at the stadium.”

Nida cheered, twirling her polished spear, while Nasq’s response was more... subdued. He just let out a very loud, very drawn out sigh.

So damn dramatic.

“Don’t forget to pick up your steel staff from Jackoby’s,” I reminded Nasq. He didn’t reply, but I knew he’d heard me. Nida, on the other hand, radiated excitement, her enthusiasm evident as the setting sun reflected off her spear.

As the pair walked off, I lingered, watching them disappear into the darkening orange hues of the setting sun. Nida slapped Nasq’s back with jovial camaraderie, laughing at something he said. She was all smiles and I could see the excitement for competition burning in her eyes. Nasq, however, slouched forward, his frown betraying his apprehension. To an extent, I understood the sorcerer’s reluctance. If they were defeated, those losses wouldn't just be personal failures—they were public displays of weakness, a blow to the reputation of those they represented. To me.

After a while I followed them back toward the Duke’s Spire, my thoughts drifting back to my core and the divots that refused to heal. If silver realm energy wasn’t enough to restore it, perhaps gold realm energy would be.

Once we reached the rooms and I had the door opened, I ordered Nasq and Nida to occupy one of the other rooms for the night.

“But my lady-” Nida started. I cut her off with a small wave.

“Go, Nida. I need to try something.” The tigerkin pursed her lips but reluctantly obeyed.

I closed the door behind me and locked it tight, by sliding the horizontal steel lock bar into place with a soft grunt of effort.

I settled on the bed, crossing my legs to form a lotus position.

The room was warm, if sparsely furnished. It had only a single bed made for perhaps two or three people, a small mirror, a cabinet of smooth stained wood, and an empty work table that only Brianna had used so far.

Before entering a meditative state, I reached into my storage ring and pulled out the burning black sphere that was Orpheus’ core. The darkness within it shifted ominously, as if alive and my core recoiled instinctively from its presence.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

According to Brianna's reports, the Duke's body would arrive tomorrow evening accompanied by a troop of his soldiers and the guard group her family sent, with his funeral planned for after the tournament.

To speed up my progression while at the same time curing whatever disfiguration my core had endured from an overuse of necromantic energy, I would likely need to absorb the gold realm energy from the Duke's core.

“I should have taken it in Sealrite and destroyed his body,” I muttered under my breath. Then I shook my head. No, that wouldn’t have worked. Even if I’d found the opportunity to steal his core under the noses of the soldiers I was supposed to be recruiting, there wouldn’t have been a way to destroy his body—not unless I was prepared to butcher every soldier who’d seen the duke’s corpse and those guarding it.

No, taking the core after the funeral was still the best course of action. If the resting grounds were lightly guarded, I could kill and resurrect the soldiers assigned there. If there were more than a few... well, I’d cross that bridge if I had to.

I closed my eyes and inhaled sharply, allowing tendrils of necromantic energy to seep from my tender core toward the progenitor’s core. Although I didn't fully understand what could happen from attempting to peer into a progenitor's core while my own core was still weak, I was fairly certain it wouldn't turn out like when I'd accidently created a Hydra. Which, ideally, had long since stopped chasing me.

After all, I wasn't granting anything any abilities.

I just wanted to get a closer look at the energies clouding the black core.

A soft clicking sound broke the silence as my necromantic energy connected with the black energy of Orpheus’ core. My eyes snapped open as my energy was sucked into the black core. I opened my mouth to scream with desperate rage, but no sound came out as my vision blurred, and then faded to darkness.

_________________________________________________________________

The world of Ordite exploded into life, a riot of colors that stabbed into my brain like shards of glass. The pain made me reel back, and I stumbled over a pile of rocks that should not have been behind me. In fact, I shouldn't have even been standing.

I blinked with increasing speed as the current situation dawned on me.

This was my mindscape—the same mindscape where Orpheus had killed me. Repeatedly. For decades.

Why am I-

“About fucking time,” A rough voice that sent chills down my spine interrupted my silent question. I turned to face the speaker and my blood ran cold. Every instinct in my body screamed and I leaped back, putting space between myself and the man.

No. It wasn’t a man I faced.

It was Orpheus.

Twin horns arched from his head, curling back toward the many small spikes lining his spine. Black hair. Black eyes. Though unlike when I’d last seen him, he now bore large, black wings that seemed to be formed from the same smoke-like energy as his core.

“Relax,” Orpheus said, biting into a red apple as he drawled out the word. His voice was muffled as he spoke, his mouth full. “I can’t hurt you even if I wanted to. I don’t exist anymore, after all.”

“You don’t… what?”

“Now, now. I am quite disappointed, Queen of Rot. I felt as if we’d bonded last time we met. How long did we spend together? Eight decades? A century?”

I snarled, fingers clenching into a fist as I readied myself to fight for my sanity once more. “How are you here?”

Orpheus blinked. “You mean you truly came here without understanding anything? By accident?” He laughed. “Are you a fool, Queen of Rot? What insanity made you touch your core energy to a dead Sire’s core out of mere curiosity?”

I couldn’t really argue with that. It had been rather… impulsive.

“I am a remnant,” Orpheus explained with a sigh, swallowing his bite of apple and tearing another. Although he chewed and I could see fruit juice spilling down the side of his face, the apple itself remained whole. “I only exist because the true Orpheus was killed and has returned to the Main System.”

“What?” was all I could manage.

Orpheus tossed the apple over his shoulder and it vanished. “I’m a remnant. A spoil of war. Usually the only way a progenitor can die is at the hands of another progenitor, who then absorbs the core and remnant to become more powerful. It’s a way to continually increase the Main System’s power. It's a whole cycle,” He said, eyes gleaming with mischief. “But that’s not important. Did you obtain your own System from the gamble?”

“Yes,” I said cautiously after a moment’s hesitation.

“That’s… that’s amazing,” he whispered, borderline reverently. He stepped forward slightly as if to reach toward me, but hesitated, letting his hand drop limply to his side. Instead, he squinted at me and smirked. “I see your darker qualities left scars on your core, Soul Weaver.” I scowled at him, unmoved. Orpheus raised his hands in mock surrender. “I only mentioned this because I believe, much the way you offered the main system a deal, that I can perhaps offer you one.”

Still unsure whether this was real or a hallucination brought on by some ducal successor, I treaded carefully. “What deal, progenitor? I’ll offer no aid to the Main System.”

He waved dismissively. “No, no. I have no interest in the Main System. As a fragment, I gain nothing by helping it." His eyes glittered with determination, hope, and perhaps a small amount of tears. It was hard to tell given the fact I was still pretty sure I’d been drugged. "No, dear girl—I want you to help me restore my Angelic race, wiped out centuries ago.”

“How in the name of Ashwash would I do that?” I asked.

Orpheus snorted. “It has nothing to do with that bastard or his name.”

“...what?” I asked, having no idea what the dead progenitor was ranting about.

“You are the host of your new system, is that correct?” When I nodded, his smile widened into an ecstatic grin as if I'd promised him all the power in the universe. “That means you have the capacity to bestow upon others a new species. Or to, at the very least, evolve their current species.” I raised an eyebrow, not confirming or denying his suspicions. He seemed confident enough in his thoughts that my lack of consensus didn’t slow him down. “If you find those willing, you could bestow upon them the Angellic race that was wiped out. And by the Gods, my race was powerful indeed.”

“That would take centuries,” I countered. “I don’t have the ti—”

“It doesn’t have to be your focus,” he interrupted eagerly. He pushed wet black hair from his eyes with a sweep of his hand. “Grant the race three times a year, and I will consider the pact satisfied.”

“Even if I did agree to that, I don’t even know how to,” I noted. “And you still haven’t told me why I should bother.”

“I will teach you how to intentionally bestow races," he said. "And I will show you how to absorb Orpheus’ core."

“That’s impossible. Absorbing even the smallest amount of a black core requires that I be at peak platinum rank, at the very minimum. I was barely able to absorb half the demon progenitor’s core despite achieving a diamond realm core.”

Orpheus smirked. “That is simply because you did not know how. I will teach you more about your core.” He disappeared and reappeared inches in front of me. Before I could react he tapped right above my heart. “You are talented, but uneducated.” He tapped just above my navel, then my forehead. “Your dantian cores are misaligned and unstable, causing an extremely lopsided balancing of your energies," Orpheus analyzed as I leaped backward, heart racing from his sudden approach. The way he’d simply reappeared inches from me brought back memories of my last interactions with him that I’d rather have not remembered. Ever. “Despite your potential as a species, you humans truly lack any understanding of cores and energy.”

“I had plenty of education on cores and energy,” I growled.

Orpheus laughed. “Queen of Rot, has Ordite even discovered magic cores yet?"

At that, I had no response.