Loki suddenly realized something.
He had never confided his story to anyone before.
Whether it was Christine or Selulu, it wasn’t that Loki hadn’t had the thought, but they both seemed to regard his “past” as a bloody scar on his body—something they completely avoided touching.
In truth, Loki quite wished there was someone he could pour his heart out to.
But the pain had been bottled up inside for so long that even he gradually forgot this desire… though long ago, like a fool, he once complained to a necklace.
The necklace seemed to have a portrait of a young girl embedded in it.
But during that period, because of some mental issues, he had become a bit unhinged—talking to objects as if they were alive was normal, and maybe he had accidentally inhaled some strange substance that caused hallucinations.
After all, living in an organization like the Hand of Truth, a group of desecrators, was mental torture. Being controlled by hallucinations for a while might even be considered a relief.
The nature of the Soulless made it impossible for him to fall into corruption, and as a Transcender, he maintained an extremely strong sense of morality and will to survive. Yet every day, what he saw, heard, and knew was enough to break his spirit.
To stay sane, Loki had no choice but to fill his heart with hatred.
Every “colleague” and “partner” who seemed friendly enough to exchange smiles, Loki was secretly composing their deaths in his mind.
The accumulation of such intense emotions and pressure had blurred even his memories from that time.
“…You really can stay calm hearing this kind of thing.”
“Even though I’m still wearing the academy uniform, I’m no hot-blooded kid who sees everything in black and white.”
Ina took the lantern that Loki handed back to her.
What made this witch remarkable was her ability to pull out all kinds of tools from her pockets—it easily reminded one of a blue-and-white raccoon.
“I can tell, and I can see, that you’re not a hopelessly bad person… otherwise, you would have already fallen to become a desecrator.”
“Well, I’m Soulless after all. Someone without a soul naturally can’t be corrupted by the Sea of Souls…”
“No, I’m not talking about your ‘soul,’ but your ‘heart.’”
Ina said seriously.
She stepped forward quickly, walking side by side with Loki, then turned her head to look into the young man’s eyes.
“My mother once told me that among the desecrators, there are those whose souls have rotted away, but whose hearts still resist fate… Humans become desecrators not because their souls aren’t strong enough, but because their ‘hearts’ have already fallen.”
“Even if you aren’t Soulless, in essence, you’re different from them.”
“…Uh, thanks?”
Was that supposed to be comforting?
Honestly, despite the witch’s somewhat cold and hard-to-approach demeanor, she was actually quite kind-hearted.
“No need to thank me. Carry on—tell me about that woman.”
Ina quickly turned her face away, pretending to inspect a nearby pile of rubble.
“Anyway, for her to survive in a place like this and become a saint now, she must have been protected by you, right?”
“…No, it was just luck. The reason I cared for her wasn’t out of kindness—it was ultimately for myself.”
Loki said expressionlessly.
Passing through countless collapsed, fallen doors, the broken ruins outlined by the lamp’s light evoked disgusting memories.
Holy crosses and pure marks used to purify corruption were everywhere, but it seemed they had no effect. Even years later, this place had been handed back to its former masters because of certain people’s desires.
“In my plan, she was a weapon to destroy the Hand of Truth.”
“A weapon…”
“But in the end, I gave up. Although it cost me physically, it was better than sending her to her death.”
Loki stopped walking.
On both sides of the path, metal bars had been forged into cages.
A cold breath blew in his face, and faint childish cries seemed to echo.
On the walls behind the bars were some unknown black stains and blurry images carved from stone.
Those were clearly not the writings or symbols of the desecrators.
Ina swallowed hard.
“This is where children are kept. Kaisania, Terra City, Herbus, Middenborg… Whether inside or outside the empire, humans and demi-humans alike are packed here like sardines.”
“They either become research material for the Hand of Truth’s study of souls, or delicious sacrifices for the Great Lords… This place is like a factory dedicated to processing ‘people.’”
“There are probably over a thousand in total… I’ve lost count.”
Like a guide, Loki began explaining every corner of the surroundings to the girl.
As the witch listened, both anger and sadness welled up inside her, but she also admired Loki’s strength.
Just hearing this gave her a terrible ripping sensation in her chest, yet how did this man manage to endure such a hellish environment?
“Next is the experimental ground.”
The two slowly stepped into the next area.
“Talented children are gathered here. Their tender souls are extracted through special rituals, then manipulated by the researchers like clay. The Hand of Truth intends to use this method to strengthen combatants, create demons, and even glimpse into the domains of the Great Lords.”
The Hand of Truth’s goal was “ascension and evolution.” Since its inception, it had been conducting bottomless research on the Sea of Souls and human bodies.
Its leader had been sentenced to death by the empire for violating many taboos, but during execution was rescued by a large-scale suicidal attack from desecrators, fleeing to Kaisania where he took root and flourished.
He was once a famous scholar, but after all these events, his name was erased… Perhaps due to interference from a Great Lord, even his trusted subordinates only called him the Chief.
The experimental ground, Loki’s primary focus, had naturally been leveled—nothing was left.
As for the stories buried there, considering the witch’s endurance, Loki had no intention of explaining them in detail.
Moreover—
At the end of the road, several figures appeared.
Besides himself and Ina, Loki did not expect any “good people” to show up in a place like this.
Muscles tensed, he straightened his body and prepared for battle.
After such a long silence, it seemed the remnants of the old days were finally sending someone to throw a welcome party.
“Are they enemies?”
Ina asked softly.
As she spoke, she was already readying for combat.
A flash of light appeared, and a plain long-handled metal staff was already grasped in her hand.
Her skirt fluttered with the rise of magic, white flames burst from her mismatched red and blue eyes, and the red-dyed streak on her forehead resembled the wing patterns of a black butterfly.
Beautiful.
Loki thought.