The Price of Salvation

The surging seawater blurred her consciousness, washing it away like a relentless tide.

Saranya felt like a piece of duckweed adrift in a river, carried by the current. Powerless to alter her fate, she could only despairingly embrace the unfolding misfortune and disaster.

She was about to merge with her brother…

This sensation of fusion was one Saranya had experienced before, immediately upon her reincarnation into this world.

In her past life, the “Commander Saranya” had been defeated by the Black Witch. As she prepared to die a heroic death, a soul, one no more extraordinary than any other, had descended upon her.

That initial fusion had been seamless, everything transpiring with an inherent naturalness, as if it were an inevitable course of events.

On one hand, Saranya’s inherent softness and adaptable worldview completely reshaped the commander’s destiny. It compelled her to forsake her honor, to plead for mercy from the Black Witch, and to cling to life under the witch’s enslavement. From that point onward, the two personalities accelerated their development, forging the profound bond they now shared.

At the very least, Saranya had been spared from death.

Conversely, the commander’s abilities and aspirations had profoundly influenced her. Saranya could perpetually feel the commander’s—no, her *own*—will: a gentle, resilient, and unwavering essence. Even when mired in filth, Commander Saranya’s spirit continued to radiate a profound light.

Indeed, the merging of two perfectly aligned souls was a truly wondrous event.

However, the same could not be said for Mejga and her soul. Their compatibility was far from perfect; they were, at best, like fire and water.

Saranya trembled in terror. Beyond the searing physical agony, she perceived her brother’s astonishing possessiveness. His aggression was overwhelming, a desire to dominate completely, to utterly consume her.

Mejga wished only to engulf her within his avaricious desires. In his warped perception, she was nothing more than a fragile ornament, a mere patch. Her sole purpose was to exist as his “only family,” his “most beloved sister,” to fill the profound void within his heart.

“Don’t move… good sister… just bear with it a little longer… soon… soon we will never be separated again… we will achieve… the most perfect form…”

“It… hurts so much… I… I don’t want to… become like that… Brother…”

She detested Mejga, unable to countenance his actions. Yet, as their flesh intertwined, her conscious autonomy began to wane.

“No…”

In her crimson-tinged vision, Mejga’s lips stretched into a grotesque grin, nearly reaching his ears, as he emitted a sharp, cackling sound.

Saranya’s head spun. She blinked vigorously, and a flicker of confusion gradually bloomed in the depths of her pupils. Swiftly, that confusion transmuted into an intoxicating rapture.

She felt it.

Her brother’s potent, heartfelt emotions, the pure joy of their reunion, were transmitting to her without reservation, flowing through the viscous tumors and blood vessels that bound them…

“Bro… Brother…”

She giggled, her voice morphing to perfectly mirror Mejga’s. Her lips, beyond her control, curled upwards, revealing an expression identical to his.

A cool sensation graced her face.

Mejga was wiping away her tears, his fingers gently caressing her cheek in a silent gesture.

However, this touch, rather than drawing her deeper into his embrace, ignited a spark of defiance within her. For a fleeting moment, she regained her clarity:

“Wh…”

She abruptly glanced down, witnessing the horrifying, bloody wreckage of her lower body. Her stomach immediately lurched, and she gagged, expelling a torrent of acidic bile.

“Ugh… ugh… cough cough—”

Saranya raised her arms, pushing her brother away with all her might.

“No… get… get away…!

With a gruesome tearing sound, a small strip of mangled skin ripped away, dangling to the ground. Blood and dark yellow plasma spurted forth, and both she and Mejga let out heart-wrenching screams simultaneously.

The agony consumed her, blackening her vision, and her body recoiled violently.

The flesh between her and Mejga proliferated rapidly, swiftly mending the wound. Indeed, their bodies fused together at an even greater speed than before.

Saranya, still unwilling to yield, strained her abdomen and thrust her body forward once more.

She fought until her very last breath.

Saranya attempted to chant a spell, but when no magic would respond, she reached for her waist, intending to draw her dagger. It was then that she discovered something even more terrifying—

Mejga’s shoulder had already begun to dissolve into her waist. A dagger was out of the question; she couldn’t even locate her own stomach.

In her overwhelming panic, her hand pressed directly onto Mejga’s face, her palm sinking deeply into his once-handsome features…

“Eh… eh-uh…!”

Crimson flesh immediately tore through her brother’s cheek, grotesquely deforming him beyond recognition. It then surged up her arm, binding her hands firmly, rendering them completely immobile.

She would not die; instead, she would become a conscious, pulsating mass of flesh alongside her brother…

The horrifying realization finally shattered Saranya’s sanity.

“Ah… ah… eee-woo-woo-woo-ee-ee-ya-ah-ah-ah—”

“This is fake… it’s all fake… hahaha… I’m dreaming… I’m dreaming I’m dreaming I’m dreaming I’m dreaming I’m dreaming—”

“Ah-ah-ah-hahaha-woo-woo-woo-woo-woo…”

Adrift in the sanguine sea, Saranya clung to her last vestiges of consciousness, desperately attempting to numb herself.

“…Gurgle!”

On the precipice of oblivion, a cascade of bubbles suddenly erupted beside Saranya’s ear!

A figure burst forth from beneath the water, wrapping strong arms around her from behind.

A pair of wheat-colored arms encircled her chest tightly.

“Ha… ia… ia…”

Talia was utterly drenched, her voice a raw, broken rasp. Due to severe blood loss, her skin had taken on a ghastly, pale white hue.

The sailor had stuffed a large wad of cloth into her chest, gasping for air, her eyes blazing with furious defiance.

Yet, the moment those fierce pupils met Saranya’s gaze, they softened instantly.

Talia offered a smile, a hint of forced bravery playing on her features:

“Hoo… hoo… bear with it… Ya… bear with it…”

“Talia… you’re okay…”

“Don’t be scared… I’ll definitely get you out of this, old girl…!”

Talia inhaled deeply, a pained expression on her face, before plunging her head back underwater.

A sickening crunch echoed, and a viscous stream of foul blood abruptly jetted from beneath the surface. The sensation of tearing flesh screamed from her calf all the way to her abdomen. Saranya convulsed wildly from the sheer agony, her survival instinct driving her into desperate struggles.

She choked on a mouthful of briny, blood-tinged seawater, then realized with a jolt that she was slowly drifting away from Mejga. Her brother merely hung his head, his condition unknown.

“Gurgle-gurgle-gurgle~”

Talia surfaced once more, supporting Saranya’s shoulder.

Through the murky seawater, Saranya couldn’t ascertain the extent of her injuries. She was completely immobile, relying solely on Talia to clear a path through the water and guide her sluggishly towards the exit.

“Tha… thank you…”

“Don’t mention it… heh-heh…”

Talia forced a smile and playfully stuck out her tongue.

“But don’t… think you can just get away with a ‘thank you.’ If we both make it back alive… cough cough…”

“Hm…?”

Saranya, still dazed, squinted and met Talia’s gaze.

“This time… you can finally accept me, right…?”

The question felt strangely ambiguous, leaving Saranya momentarily unsure how to respond.

Then, without warning, Talia leaned in close, studying her intently for a moment, before continuing to draw nearer to her lips…

“No…”

Saranya’s heart leaped. She swiftly turned her head, gently rejecting her rescuer.

“But I… I promise you… if anything happens in the future, I’ll pay you for your help…”

Talia offered no verbal reply, merely pressing her lips lightly against Saranya’s cheek:

“I don’t want money.”