The Immortal Form and the Monster’s Embrace

Sovenia slept soundly, deeply immersed in a beautiful dream.

Darkness…

A cold darkness enveloped her, like a corpse sinking to the bottom of the deep sea.

Sovenia could feel no body, no pain, only an infinite void stretching in every direction.

Then, the putrid stench of the mine shaft assailed her nostrils.

She opened her eyes.

The rough rock walls cast distorted shadows under the flickering torchlight. Filthy water and blood pooled in the cracks of the flagstones beneath her feet. Her stomach growled, for the meager meal of dead rats and rotten bread soup had done little to sate her hunger.

Her fingers clenched around something cold and dry: a bird’s claw.

She gazed down at the sinister object in her hand, its three talons spread wide, as if severed from a chicken’s foot.

From the depths of the mine shaft, the sound of dripping water echoed, each drop striking her heart.

Haelana said, “Don’t… don’t touch that thing! It must be a demonic artifact!”

Of course, Sovenia knew. She had heard the tales of the monkey’s paw in her previous life. Beautiful wishes, it was said, would bring unacceptable, malevolent side effects, dragging a person straight to hell.

But what difference did that make to someone already living in hell? She possessed a cheat ability, yet this ability required initial funds to activate!

She cried out, “I want to ascend! I want to cultivate immortality!”

Her voice was young and hoarse.

The response from the High Heavens descended upon her.

Dark crimson light erupted from the gaps between the bird’s talons, pouring into her eyes, nose, mouth, and ears like arterial blood bursting from veins.

She tried to scream, but no sound escaped her throat. The light choked her windpipe, feeling like a searing hot wire piercing deep into her lung lobes. Each breath tore at her alveoli.

Bones shattered.

She heard her ribs snapping one by one, her chest cavity’s organs compressed and deformed. The sound of muscle fibers tearing resembled violin strings breaking.

Blood surged and boiled beneath her skin, and her fingernails ripped away from her fingertips, revealing black keratin growing underneath. Her spine arched into an impossible curve, vertebrae bursting apart segment by segment. Marrow seeped from the cracks, only to be devoured and reshaped by the crimson light.

Skin ripped open.

From her forehead to her chin, from her shoulders to her fingertips, every inch of skin tore apart, revealing the reconstituting flesh beneath. This was no mere wound, but a metamorphosis. Old skin and flesh peeled away like a snake shedding its skin, while new tissue emerged from within, hot to the touch and unnaturally resilient.

She could feel her skull deforming, her cheekbones protruding, her jawline elongating. Her teeth fell out, only to regrow, sharp and pointed like a beast’s.

The pain transcended the realm of language.

It was not the agony of a knife’s cut or a fire’s burn, nor broken bones or torn tendons. It was the torment of her soul being nailed to her flesh and roasted alive.

She yearned for death, for her consciousness to extinguish entirely. Yet, she remembered the many grudges she still held, the need to survive, and to ensure Haelana survived with her.

She would not allow herself to die. She consciously felt the death and rebirth of every cell, the tearing and rejoining of every nerve.

Time lost all meaning. Perhaps a second passed, or perhaps an entire century. When the light finally receded, she knelt on the mine shaft’s flagstones, covered in blood, her breath rasping like a bellows.

She raised her hand.

It was no longer a human hand.

Five fingers, thick and powerful, bore black, blade-like claws. Knuckles protruded, and veins bulged. She touched her face, feeling the small horns that had just sprouted atop her head, hard as rock and burning at their base.

She needed a mirror, but there was none in the mine shaft, only puddles. She crawled to the nearest pool of stagnant water and leaned over, gazing at its surface.

The face reflected in the water made her gasp.

She could barely discern that it was her own face. Her skin was as pale as death, and crimson eyes glowed faintly in the gloom.

Her lips were split to her earlobes, revealing a mouth full of sharp fangs. Black horns, like those of a goat or a demon, crowned her head.

Was this power useful?

Incredibly so.

She turned, intent on showing the mine overseer what she was truly capable of.

Her endeavor was successful; she had smashed the mine overseer’s head into his chest cavity. Though she sustained severe injuries, she evaded her pursuers, dragging the overseer’s corpse as she fled.

With pursuers hot on her heels, she escaped into the mine shaft where Haelana and she were located.

As she entered the mine shaft.

Haelana’s scream echoed from the depths of the mine shaft: “Monster!”

She whirled around, seeing Haelana sprawled on the ground ten meters away. Haelana was pushing herself backward with her hands against the flagstones, her eyes wide with terror.

Those eyes, which had once gazed at her gently by the campfire, which had offered her water, now held nothing but naked fear.

She took a step forward, extending a hand. “Don’t be afraid,” she said, “It’s me…”

Haelana shrieked, snatching a nearby piece of rubble and hurling it. “Stay away!”

“You’re not her! You’re a monster! A monster!”

The rubble struck Jimi’s chest, shattering into dust. She stopped in place, her fists suspended in mid-air, a low, hoarse sound escaping her throat.

“I just… wanted you to live…”

But Haelana had already scrambled to her feet, stumbling away into the darkness.

Silence once again enveloped the mine shaft.

She lowered her gaze to her hands, which were caked in blood. Her body was severely wounded.

The footsteps of her pursuers grew closer; there was no more time.

Turning, she walked towards the overseer’s corpse.

It was the demon. Its two-meter-tall body was clad in rusted plate armor, its head now lodged within its abdominal cavity. The wound at its neck still oozed blood.

She crouched down, reached out, and grasped the corpse’s arm, tearing off a piece of muscle and stuffing it into her mouth.

The taste of blood exploded in her mouth.

She chewed and swallowed mechanically, feeling demonic energy surge through her limbs, repairing the damage to her body.

Haelana’s voice echoed through the mine shaft, again and again, carving itself into her very bones like a curse: “Monster…”

She did not cease her chewing or her absorption of energy. A drop of green venom slid from the corner of her eye, landing on the stone and hissing as it corroded a small pit.

She continued her energy absorption. Her movements no longer hesitated; she tore and swallowed like a precise machine. The human expression on her face vanished, leaving only a cold, ruthless visage.

A monster?

Then a monster she would be.

After all, her human identity had rotted away deep within the mine shaft, alongside that drop of venom.

‘No, this was not a monster. This was… an Immortal Form, a supreme power that frail humans could never comprehend.’

****

The dream began to shatter.

The scene of the mine shaft exploded like glass, fragments scattering. Sovenia felt her consciousness plummeting, tearing through layers of nothingness until it collided with another memory.

Sunlight.

Sunlight streamed in from the window, illuminating the desk. Its lacquer surface was peeled in patches, remnants of its former young owner’s frantic scratching during countless hours of study.

“Why is the alarm so loud…”

She didn’t want to wake up.

But it seemed she had to go to class. No, just a little more sleep would be fine.

The alarm sound was strange. It wasn’t the usual electronic beeping, but a heavy thudding, each impact shaking the very ground.

She frowned, rolled over, and tried to drift back to sleep. However, she found the soft grass beneath her had transformed into cold flagstones, and the sunlight into flickering torchlight.

The thudding continued.

She groggily opened her eyes, finding herself sprawled on the floor of Jimi the Cruel’s bedchamber. The soft red carpet pressed against her cheek.

It left an imprint. She pushed against the floor, attempting to sit up, only to find her body as heavy as if filled with lead.

Wawalde’s voice drifted from nearby, gentle and polite: “Miss Sovenia…”

She turned her head, seeing Wawalde seated in a corner of the room, polishing his longsword. The torchlight cast soft shadows across his face. His scarred features appeared somewhat gaunt, yet his gaze remained resolute.

Wawalde lowered his longsword and looked at her. “The story you told… it’s quite interesting.”

“Jimi the Cruel and Haelana.”

Sovenia sat up, tidying her disheveled fishtail braid.

She couldn’t recall why she was lying on the floor. Yet, since Wawalde was awaiting her response, she supposed she had to continue playing the role of the innocent elven princess.

She asked softly, her golden eyes meeting Wawalde’s. “What do you think?”

“Did Jimi… did she do wrong?”

Wawalde was silent for a moment, then shook his head. “But Haelana wasn’t wrong.”

His voice turned cold and hard, stating a truth as if it were innate.

“Jimi the Cruel had already resorted to cannibalism… She had become a monster, just as she is now. It’s a good thing she’s already dead.”

Sovenia’s pupils constricted slightly.

That sentence was like a knife, piercing precisely into her chest. She opened her mouth, wanting to say that she had only done it to survive, that she had no choice, but no sound emerged from her throat.

She knew that no matter what she said, Wawalde would not understand. In his eyes, cannibalism made one a monster, no matter how compelling the reason.

She lowered her head, her silver hair falling to obscure her expression.

She spoke softly, her voice devoid of emotion: “Yes… just a monster.”

‘Foolish, weak humans, unable to comprehend the might of the High Heavens!’

Her dream shattered completely.

Darkness surged once more, engulfing the bedchamber, Wawalde, and the phrase, “just a monster.”

Sovenia felt her consciousness drifting, like a blue feather spinning in the wind, unsure where it would float. She also heard the chirping of a blue bird.

The thudding continued.

The sound grew louder, heavier, making her skull hum. She tried to open her eyes, but her eyelids felt too heavy to lift.

Liquid welled up in her throat, tasting of rust. She coughed, and the fluid splattered against her lips.

Cold.

Her body was frigid, as if submerged in icy water. She could feel the pain in her chest, the ligature marks on her neck, the swelling of her cheeks, yet these pains felt distant, as though viewed through thick glass.

The thudding stopped.

Silence surged like a tide, suffocating her. She heard her own heartbeat, faint and slow, thudding once, then again. She heard the wind from afar, like the low growl of a beast. She heard…

Footsteps.

Heavy footsteps were approaching.

Sovenia finally opened her eyes.

Her vision was blurry, the world before her covered by a film of mist.

‘Had I been crying?’

She blinked, and the mist cleared, revealing the horrific state of the throne room: shattered stone pillars, broken floorboards, blood splattered everywhere, and scattered body parts.

The air was thick with the stench of blood and burnt flesh, mingled with the acrid smell of sulfur, making her stomach churn.

It was a visceral reaction that even a veteran of a thousand battles could not suppress.

She pushed herself up, groaning, supporting herself on the ground. A searing pain shot through her neck, as if it had been constricted by a steel wire. She raised a hand to touch her neck, and memories flooded back.

‘It seems Wawalde did this.’

She saw the enormous corpse.

Skullcrusher’s body lay dozens of meters away, but it could no longer be called a “body.”

It was the remains of something gnawed by a beast. Its chest was ripped open, ribs broken, and most of its internal organs were gone, leaving only fragments clinging to the spine. Its left arm was severed at the shoulder, with strands of muscle fiber still hanging from the bone. The flesh of its right thigh had been stripped clean, exposing the stark white femur.

Sovenia stared at the gruesome remains, bile rising in her throat. This corpse looked as though it had been feasted upon by a ravenous beast, every wound speaking of primitive, savage violence.

The footsteps resumed.

She whirled around, seeing a massive figure emerge from the shadows.

It was a monster.

Its three-meter-tall body stood ramrod straight, with incomplete black wings sprouting from its back. The bone structure was exposed, and the wing membranes were tattered. Its entire body was covered in black scales, some of which had fallen off, revealing bleeding skin beneath.

Its arms were disproportionately thick, muscles bulging like rock, and its fingernails had transformed into twenty-centimeter-long black claws, their tips still bearing fragments of flesh and blood.

That face made Sovenia’s breath catch.

The right half of its face barely retained a human outline, but the skin had turned grayish-black, veins bulging, and eye sockets sunken.

The left half of its face was completely distorted. Its cheekbones protruded, its jaw elongated, and two rows of uneven, sharp fangs grew in its mouth. Both eyes had narrowed into vertical slits, staring intently at her.

Chunks of meat hung from its teeth.

Sovenia’s mind went blank.

She couldn’t recognize who this was.

She only knew it was a monster—a monster that had just devoured a corpse, a monster now walking towards her.

She took a step back, her heel kicking against loose rubble. Her eyes darted left and right, finding the Moonlight Blade ten meters away, pinned under a collapsed flagstone.

The monster kept approaching.

Its gait was unsteady, as if it were drunk. Wounds on its body continued to bleed, as if it had endured a thousand cuts and torments, yet it kept walking.

One step, two steps, three steps.

Sovenia’s back hit the wall; there was nowhere left to retreat.

She stared at the monster, her muscles tensed, ready to fight to the death. Her mind raced: How many cards were left in her deck? How much stamina had she recovered? Where was her escape route?

The monster stopped five meters away.

It opened its mouth, a low sound like rusted bellows rubbing together emerging from its throat: “So… ve… nia…”

That name made Sovenia’s heart leap.

She asked, “Wa, Wawalde?”

The monster nodded, its voice so hoarse that its original timbre was barely discernible: “I’m sorry…”

“I… I scared you…”

Sovenia stared at him, her brain still struggling to process the information before her. This was Wawalde.

The polite hero, the knight whose smile was like sunshine, the foolish dog who insisted on protecting her—now he had become this monstrous sight. A cannibal, fallen, growing scales and wings, exactly like Jimi the Cruel of old.

Haelana’s words echoed in her mind: “You are a monster!”

For some reason, it felt as though a blue bird whispered in her ear, causing Wawalde’s past judgment to resound: ‘Jimi the Cruel had already become a monster, just as she is now. It’s a good thing she’s already dead.’

‘Haelana was too normal. Any normal person seeing such a sight would… In short, Jimi the Cruel got what she deserved.’

‘Jimi the Cruel got what she deserved!’

The one who once condemned Jimi as a monster had now become a monster himself.