The Child with a Thousand Souls

The spirit arts of the dark elves. Mages from the Magic Tower and Argos. And barriers crafted by high priests from the Holy Kingdom. The impenetrable triple-layered barrier functioned perfectly.

In a small forest west of Yurtel. Mages quietly listened to the sounds of twigs snapping and grass being pushed aside in the darkness. The moment the source of the noise entered the center of the trap, they unleashed their magic in a surprise attack.

In an instant, a barrier enveloped the entire forest. Without missing a beat, shadow spirits and the high priests' miracles layered over the magical barrier.

"It's up! We don't know what it is, but it can't escape that barrier now!"

At the mage's words, the waiting holy knights and Count Albio Yurtel rose from their seats.

"We'll go in and handle it. Keep the barrier intact."

"Of course!"

"Marco. Secure the perimeter. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠We can't have any civilians out for a nighttime stroll. Guard it airtight!"

"Understood, my lord."

Yurtel's knights scattered in all directions, forming an ironclad defense around the barrier.

Count Albio Yurtel drew his sword hilt and unleashed his Aura Blade. The holy knights, meanwhile, drew their metal holy swords. Cloaked in offensive miracles and infusing their blades with holy power, they advanced into the barrier alongside the count.

And inside the barrier...

"There's nothing here."

Nothing at all.

-What?

"Nothing. I can't see a thing. The inside of the barrier is completely empty!"

-Impossible! The interior is a whole other world! It's the type that only reveals living souls—plants, animals, and inanimate objects shouldn't even register!

The mage was right. Unlike the outside where trees and plants grew, the barrier's interior was just an empty, bounded rectangular space. And in that rectangular space... nothing.

No. Something was there.

It just wasn't visible to the eye.

As the count and holy knights faltered in confusion, the count suddenly swung his sword desperately at the empty air.

A sharp clang! rang out, the sound of his Aura Blade clashing with something in the void tearing through their eardrums like a razor.

"My lord!"

"It pierced my instincts and attacked. I nearly got ambushed."

The count stared into the empty space. Still, he sensed nothing. Perfect presence concealment, undetectable even to a Grand Master like him. The Great Sage had said it evaded even prophetic foresight of the future.

Another ambush struck. Knights were beings of heightened instinct. They could dodge or catch sniper rounds from hundreds of meters away. They were the last ones who'd ever be caught ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠off guard.

Yet the count felt ambushed. His Grand Master senses couldn't pin it down, forcing him to barely parry the assaults.

The holy knights didn't sit idle watching the count engage the invisible foe.

"Deploy the sleep gas we prepared."

High-concentration sleep gas potent enough to knock out an elephant. Naturally, the count and holy knights had entered shielded by anti-gas magic and miracles.

The holy knights pulled grenades from their belts, yanked the pins, and hurled them in all directions.

And that was just the start.

Light burst from the holy swords, illuminating the small barrier space.

In a flash, gas filled the interior. The golden light pouring forth halted the attacks aimed at the count.

Soon, sounds of something pounding against the barrier walls echoed.

The count smirked at the noise.

"Trying to flee, are we?"

But the barrier walls, forged from spirit arts, magic, and miracles, wouldn't yield easily. The gas continued to spread, and the light grew ever brighter, filling the space.

And before long...

"Eek!"

A small cry accompanied the sudden appearance of the previously invisible entity inside the barrier.

At last, they beheld the foe's true form.

"......A little girl?"

"It's a child! She can't be more than ten!"

"What in the world?"

Instead of cheers, the count and holy knights uttered voices of shock.

The seven-year-old girl stared with hollow, soulless eyes. Her white patient gown was eerily pristine and neat. Unable to withstand the sleep gas and the holy knights' light, her body trembled violently. She looked ready to collapse into slumber at any moment.

But suddenly, venom flared in the girl's eyes.

Slowly, a glowing halo began to manifest above her head.

The holy knights' eyes widened.

"A halo?"

"My God! That's...!"

Before they could scream, the girl let out a shriek like a banshee and unfurled radiant golden wings of light from her back.

An angel.

But unlike her angelic appearance, the attacks she unleashed were terrifyingly powerful. Light surged toward the holy knights and count like living creatures.

The count's Aura Blade went into overdrive. The holy knights focused their miracles on defense.

But the girl wasn't fighting fair from the start. The sleep gas weighed her body down like lead, and the knights' light made movement agonizingly difficult—plainly visible to all.

"It's an Apostle!"

"Subdue her!"

The light from the holy knights' swords intensified. Other high miracles began activating one by one. Binding and suppressing miracles rained down on the girl.

Left unchecked, the holy knights would overpower her. As light from her wings targeted them...

"Aren't you underestimating me a bit too much?"

In the instant they'd glanced away, Count Albio Yurtel had closed the distance.

The light veered sharply toward him instead. But the count parried every blow effortlessly. Telekinetic force of superhuman strength warped the very air. His Aura Blade moved too fast for the eye to follow, deflecting the incoming light with precise, fluid strokes.

The girl's light couldn't pierce his telekinetic shield or breach his blade barrier.

Distracted by the approaching count, she ignored the holy knights. Summoning a long spear of light, she clashed with Count Albio Yurtel.

The girl was strong.

But not strong enough to best a knight—a Grand Master—in close quarters. Her light spear shattered.

At that moment, the holy knights' suppression miracles enveloped her body successfully.

"Got her!"

Count Albio Yurtel sheathed his sword with a weary sigh.

"What a hassle. Guess I've gotten rusty from not wielding a blade in a while."

As the count caught his breath...

"Gurk... guh!"

The girl's body began convulsing like she was having a seizure. The count's eyes widened.

Before he could react...

"Kuhuk!"

The girl vomited blood.

The holy knights rushed over in panic. Their eyes bulged.

"Holy power overload."

"What?"

"Her soul is disintegrating!"

The count scooped up the girl. Her eyes rolled back completely, her body thrashing in agony. The holy knights hastily cast healing miracles, but there was no improvement.

"We have to save her! Focus your miracles! We need to know how something like this was created! Save her! Do whatever it takes!"

The goal had shifted from capture to survival.

Mirien and I were urgently summoned to the basement of Yurtel Department Store. Inside weren't just the Argos branch chief, but also the director himself, hastily called in. Tower Master Kalanis, boasting his glossy white hair, and even cardinals from the Holy Kingdom had gathered.

"The holy overload won't stop! Her soul isn't stabilizing!"

"Focus the mana! Miracles! Use more miracles, please! She'll die at this rate!"

Dozens of priests and mages grunted as they poured magic and miracles into the single little girl. But her convulsing body only worsened by the minute.

"What in the world ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠happened?"

Argos's director approached us at Mirien's question.

"We don't know yet. She's not in any of Argos's networks."

A Holy Kingdom cardinal chimed in.

"Whatever they did, her soul is disintegrating. We're barely holding it together, but if a soul wielding that level of high miracles shatters, her body will explode on the spot."

The director looked at me. No, everyone was.

"Please help. Something artificial is destroying the child's soul. The problem is, no one knows what or how. We called you, Great Sage, hoping your ability to read past and future might reveal something."

It was a helpless expression from the director I'd just met.

"Aaaagh!"

The seven-year-old girl's scream pierced the thick glass, reaching my ears. She wailed as if her vocal cords would rupture.

I slowly approached the glass, gazing at the girl in the operating room beyond—surrounded by dozens of mages and priests administering treatment.

She was cute, pretty even. But her eyes were bloodshot red, blood trickling from her ears, nose, and mouth.

My head throbbed sharply. I staggered back, and Mirien caught me.

"Aiden!"

"I'm fine, Mirien. Really."

The director, Tower Master ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Kalanis, and the cardinals approached.

"Great Sage."

I raised a hand to stop them and took a deep breath.

"Don't worry. It's not over yet."

Argos wanted information. The cardinals yearned to know how a child became an Apostle. Tower Master Kalanis eyed her academic research value.

But beyond those motives, no one here wanted to watch the child die.

And neither did I.

Words from Mom.

And beyond all that, simply watching a child suffer and die was too cruel.

I wanted to save her.

I stood before the glass again, watching the girl scream as her body slowly crumbled.

My body trembled. My eyes bloodshot in the glass's reflection.

Yet I pressed on.

"Aiden?... Aiden!"

Mirien's cry. I knew why. Just like with His Majesty the Emperor. Blood—not tears—flowed from my eyes.

Mirien tried pulling me away, but I stopped her.

"I have to. Mirien, don't interfere."

"No! Look at yourself! Aiden! You'll...!"

"I'll save that child."

My resolute voice halted Mirien's shadowed grasp.

My breathing grew ragged. It felt like... wandering a chaotic library for one specific book amid endless shelves. Each read contaminated my brain more.

And it chilled me.

How... how could humans do this to another human?

Blood now flowed from my nose too.

As the red alert flashed again, I finally stepped back from the glass.

"Great Sage!"

I felt on the verge of fainting. But I smiled.

I extended a hand to the rushing director.

"I want to speak into that operating room."

He hurriedly handed me a microphone. I gripped it with trembling hands.

It was brutally exhausting, horrifically painful... but I'd found it.

The way to save her.

Slowly, words spilled from my lips.

"Vesna."

My voice echoed through the operating room speakers. The girl's convulsing screams cut off abruptly.

I continued.

"Poezd."

The Red Federation's tongue. I didn't know the meanings—just mimicking the phonetics I'd read in the info.

I pressed on. "Kirpich. Sem. Stal. Negodovanie."

And finally.

"Rodina!"

Shouting the last Federation word, the girl's convulsions stopped dead.

Mages and priests gaped at her in shock. She gasped for breath, then slumped limply.

"Pulse normal."

"Holy overload halted."

"Soul stabilized! She's alive!"

Voices erupted simultaneously from the operating room. Everyone in the room fell silent, staring at me.

Even Mirien.

They all wanted answers. So I gave them.

"......The child's body contains thousands of souls. That's why I couldn't read her info at first."