Chapter 196: The Soul Vessel
The cold wind howled as sunlight pierced through thin clouds, casting a dazzling glare on the white expanse of the ice field.
Rolling mountains cast deep shadows over the land, and within their recesses, a pitch-black tower stood. Its sharp spires clawed at the sky, as if ready to tear it apart, evoking an unsettling chill.
This was the Polar Night Demon Tower.
At that moment, Mantou and his two companions were at the lowest level of the tower.
Born Battle Maniac led them to a chamber deep within, activating a mechanism.
"I fought my way here and discovered this."
Before them stood a peculiar urn. Its mouth was shaped like a ferocious dragon head, emitting countless soft wails and anguished cries, as if innumerable souls were bound inside, struggling in pain. A hidden, sinister laughter echoed faintly within.
Singo examined the urn closely, seemingly trying to deduce its nature.
"This thing feels familiar."
Mantou, however, stepped forward, saying, "This is clearly magical equipment, maybe some kind of soul-refining artifact. Anyway, you guys stay back—I'll pick it up and check it out."
Singo suddenly remembered something and hastily stopped him. "Wait—"
"What did you say?"
Mantou, already holding the urn with both hands, turned his head toward Singo with a puzzled expression.
"Nothing's happening. Why are you so tense?"
The next moment, his eyes rolled back, then shifted into eerie vertical pupils shimmering with fervor.
Ethereal shadows flew from the urn and surged into Mantou's mouth and nose.
[Soul Vessel]
This was the infamous sixth-circle necromancy spell. The urn acted as a container for souls. Upon contact, the souls within would possess the host, seizing control of their body while trapping the host's soul inside the urn. The possessed soul could perceive its surroundings through the urn but could neither move nor act.
"Mantou" looked down, caressing his own body. His claws brushed over every scale and muscle of the half-dragon form, his face alight with ecstatic admiration.
"Ah, what an exquisite body."
"A flawless, side-effect-free bloodline fusion. The fire and power of a red dragon—my decades of experiments never produced such perfection. Luckily, I left a fragment of my soul here to guard against despicable thieves."
Singo asked coldly, "You're not him. Who are you?"
Born Battle Maniac gripped his battle axe tightly, veins bulging on his arms, ready to unleash his fury.
They both understood—Mantou's body had been possessed by the boss.
Yet the possessed "Mantou" ignored them, lost in the euphoria of his new vessel. He mused poetically, "What extraordinary power! If I'm not mistaken, this body's owner—the red dragon—must be an even greater creation. Fascinating."
He finally noticed the two standing before him.
Although it was still Mantou's face, his red slit pupils glared at them, sending shivers down their spines.
"Ah, two more precious specimens. What a bountiful harvest today."
The entity controlling Mantou's body bowed slightly, performing a disturbingly polite gesture.
"Ah, forgive me for forgetting to introduce myself. I am a sorcerer, an artist, and a devotee of dragons. You may address me by the name I bore as a mortal—Wagner.
"We'll likely spend a long time together in the future."
Wagner's smile widened, chilling them to the core.
Wagner, the Dragon-Mad Black Mage, was once a mortal abducted by the Dragon Cult. After witnessing his wife sacrificed to a dragon, he went insane.
Desperate for dragon power, he transformed his daughter into a monster, reared dragonized abominations in the tower, and even captured a genuine white dragon.
Unlike the Dragon Cult, which revered dragons as gods, Wagner worshipped only their might. To harness that power, he developed spells to imprison dragons and sacrificed his beloved daughter, using her as a lowly specimen for reckless experimentation.
"Oh? My dear experiment seems to be questioning me?"
"A being with red dragon blood questioning me—how amusing."
Wagner leaned closer to the urn, pretending to attentively listen.
Mantou's soul raged within, cursing him for treating his daughter as a mere experiment.
Though furious at being possessed, Mantou felt no fear—after all, as a player, he could respawn. Losing a bit of experience was nothing.
"You son of a bitch! How could you do that to your own daughter? You deserve to—"
Hearing Mantou's curses, Wagner chuckled softly.
"You're talking about my daughter?"
"I loved her dearly. I gave her the best of everything. It's not my fault her bloodline was too inferior to meet my expectations."
"She refused the grand evolution, so I had no choice but to replace her arms, her torso, her legs... with superior dragonized organs.
"Look at those scales, the coursing dragon blood, the powerful muscles—aren't they tens of thousands of times stronger than her frail, original body? She's now my finest creation, far surpassing all my previous works."
As Wagner spoke, his tone grew increasingly obsessive.
"Whoosh—"
Taking advantage of Wagner's distraction, Singo launched a sneak attack. The hunter's mark locked onto Wagner's head, and a sharp arrow shot forth.
However, a dark magical barrier materialized around Wagner, reducing the arrow to fragments effortlessly.
"This is your comrade's body."
"If my fragment soul is destroyed, his body will perish too. Your comrade will remain trapped in the urn forever."
Born Battle Maniac let out a furious roar and charged, bringing his battle axe down in a devastating leap.
"Die!"
"Ignoring your friend's life to strike? How fascinating."
Wagner's eyes gleamed with malice, his gaze infused with energy from the depths of fear, like black holes.
[Enthralling Gaze]
A dark light flickered.
Meeting Wagner's eyes for even a moment, Born Battle Maniac collapsed into a deep slumber on the icy floor.
Singo couldn't react in time and was also struck by the spell.
Yet the auto-injector embedded in his neck jabbed him awake abruptly, triggering upon detecting his unconscious state.
The device, specially commissioned from the Church of the Mechanical God, was designed for such emergencies.
"Oh?"
"What an intriguing little gadget."
Wagner grinned, his eyes flashing with crimson magical energy.
[Dominate Person]
His lips moved soundlessly, yet the command rang clear.
Singo instantly felt an overwhelming mental force seize control of him, leaving no room for resistance.
Despite being only a fragment of Wagner's soul, his centuries-honed mental power was abyssal and insurmountable for a novice player.
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