“For Nona’s sake?”
At these words, Isis’s heart felt as though an invisible hand had clamped down on it. Her body involuntarily pivoted, her gaze locking onto Beacai.
A chilling surge of killing intent emanated from Beacai, and Isis realized its target was none other than her daughter, Nona.
“What do you mean?”
Her fists clenched once more.
Though Isis’s face remained impassive, her voice seethed with barely contained fury. Her eyes, fixed on Beacai, glinted with a sharp, dangerous edge.
In all her countless years, Isis had never experienced such frequent bouts of anger as she had in Beacai’s presence.
Unfazed by Isis’s wrath, Beacai merely shrugged. She covered her mouth, a soft laugh escaping her lips.
“Still don’t understand? If you refuse me, then after you die, I will seize Nona. I will torment her relentlessly, making her life a living hell.”
“I’ll make sure she knows that her suffering is all because of you. It was you who abandoned her. Had you simply agreed to my terms, none of this would ever have come to pass.”
Beacai knew Nona was Isis’s greatest vulnerability. With this leverage, she was certain Isis could not escape her grasp.
“You…”
Indeed, Beacai’s words struck true. Hearing the threat to seize and torment Nona, Isis let out a cold snort. She wanted to retort, yet found herself utterly speechless.
Nona was the only person Isis truly couldn’t let go of in this world. Until her daughter fully matured, every one of Nona’s actions would continue to tug at her heartstrings.
Had Isis not known her own life was nearing its end, she likely would never have permitted Nona to participate in the hero selection, even at eighteen. Instead, she would have kept her perpetually by her side.
It was undeniable; Beacai understood her all too well.
“Mother, this is indeed a threat,” Beacai purred. “And I believe you understand that I am perfectly capable of carrying it out. After all, Nona’s life or death means absolutely nothing to me.”
Beacai’s five fingers, wreathed in a bloodthirsty glow, subtly tightened. Divine power crackled like lightning within her palm. Isis, meanwhile, furrowed her brow and fell into a profound silence.
She began to ponder the ramifications of the soul connection the evil god had proposed.
Once their souls were linked, her own soul would be corroded by Beacai’s aura. The chaotic evil unique to an evil god would then roam freely through the verdant forest, and the crimson taint would likely usurp its pristine nature.
Yggdrasil, the World Tree itself, might even succumb and transform into an evil god.
Furthermore, Beacai had mentioned that a soul connection would grant them shared life. Yet, Isis couldn’t discern the truth of this; perhaps it was merely a ploy to secure her agreement.
If shared life was a falsehood, then the evil god undoubtedly intended to use Isis’s soul to fulfill her own sinister agenda. The days that followed would surely be a nightmare she wished never to endure.
However, if shared life proved true, then Beacai would undoubtedly imprison her, keeping her perpetually by her side. She would then continue their twisted mother-daughter game, ceaselessly toying with Isis’s mind. Over time, Isis feared she would truly break.
The reason Beacai’s previous torments hadn’t broken her was simply that Isis knew her life was finite. All of Beacai’s actions had brought her only fleeting, temporary anguish.
But with the prospect of an unending life, she might not possess such resilience. In that endless stretch, she wouldn’t be able to see an end to her suffering, nor know how long such an existence would persist.
Darkness itself wasn’t terrifying; the true horror lay in the unknown it concealed.
Thus, whether the shared life was real or a deception, either outcome promised only a nightmare for Isis.
The Evil God Beacai’s desire for a soul connection was, ultimately, nothing more than a means to satisfy her own twisted, ugly, and selfish desires.
As if discerning her every thought, Beacai placed a slender index finger to her lips, speaking with a hint of playful malice.
“Then, as long as Mother doesn’t resist me, as long as you obediently submit and care for me, I will be good to you. But should Mother prove disobedient, well, certain punishments will naturally follow.”
“An evil god’s words hold no credibility,” Isis stated coldly.
“Whether they hold credibility isn’t important, Mother. What truly matters is your choice.”
Beacai showed no anger at Isis’s defiance. She merely tilted her head, allowing a few strands of silver hair to brush her cheek, lending her an air of delicate fragility.
Yet, immediately afterward, she extended her hand toward Isis once more, a deep crimson smile blooming across her sickly pale face.
“Agree to me, and you will be imbued with my soul’s essence, granted eternal life alongside me. Refuse me, and after your soul disperses, Nona will endure a life worse than death.”
“Which will you choose, Mother?”
Beacai’s voice was light and soft, akin to a born succubus, luring mortals step by step toward an endless abyss. Though Isis was no mere mortal, with Nona as her vulnerability, she was effectively no different.
‘Nona… a life worse than death?’
The mere mention of Nona’s name would flood Isis with countless memories, recalling every small detail about her daughter.
She vividly remembered Nona’s small hands, soft and delicate, held within her own when Nona was five or six. They carried a faint, inexplicable fragrance.
Nona’s eyes, wide with innocent wonder, viewed the world with pure, untainted kindness. She would burst into joyous laughter over the smallest things, appearing bright and cheerful on the surface.
Yet, during their first outing to the market, she had clung tightly to Isis’s hand, too nervous to let go.
Nona had always been adorable, both as a child and as she grew older.
Beyond that, Nona’s body also contained the sealed soul of Níðhöggr, the Evil Dragon. If Beacai were to torment her, the dragon would likely seize the opportunity to break its seal and kill Nona.
‘If her soul’s corruption could spare Nona from such calamities…’
Isis lifted her gaze, fixed on Beacai’s outstretched palm and the chaotic, evil-infused blood-soaked land behind her. Involuntarily, she bit down on her lip, a thin trickle of blood appearing at the corner of her mouth.
Her clenched hands slowly relaxed. With her head slightly bowed, Isis began to walk, step by agonizing step, toward Beacai. The latter, as if she had known the answer all along, showed no surprise at her choice.
As Isis capitulated, a wave of sanguine energy began to invade the verdant forest. Winds howled fiercely, whipping the branches into a rustling frenzy.
Leaves, dyed a bloody crimson, spiraled down to the earth.
The once vibrant green grass withered, and the boundary between the two soul spaces began to blur. The blood-soaked land corroded the forest’s very soil, forcing even the sturdy ancient trees to lose their natural hues.
Reaching Beacai’s side, Isis extended her hand. After a moment of profound hesitation, she slowly, reluctantly, placed it upon Beacai’s.
As if fearing Isis might retract her decision, Beacai gripped her hand tightly, ensuring there was no escape.
Isis paused, a flicker of surprise in her eyes, before she lowered her gaze. She said nothing more.
The instant Isis’s hand met Beacai’s palm, the verdant forest ceased all resistance. It was instantly consumed by the blood-soaked land, the crimson taint spreading like water through a sponge, defiling the once sacred ground.
At that very moment, Beacai took a step closer to Isis. A brilliant smile graced her lips, yet it was impossible to tell if it stemmed from joy or sorrow. “Nona truly is important to you, Mother,” she murmured.