Chapter 137: I Came for You

If there were any other people trapped in this massive pit, they would see a bluish-black face suddenly appear on Saul's face, like a mask.

In an instant, this mask stretched and elongated, transforming into a thin black stream that shot downward into the dark depths.

The tail end of the stream remained connected to Saul’s facial features. As it extended, it became thinner and thinner.

Even when it was as thin as a strand of hair, it never broke.

Deep within his consciousness, Saul gazed at this unbroken connection with a grave expression.

"It seems that taking back my body won’t be easy."

Repeatedly suppressing the main consciousness of the Wraith had left Saul mentally exhausted.

Even though Saul could absorb the Wraith’s energy using spirit grease, and even though this body was naturally compatible with his soul, this battle for survival was anything but easy.

In fact, it was incredibly difficult.

Just as Saul once again realized how slim his chances were in this gamble, the black stream that had dived into the dark abyss finally returned.

It shrank rapidly, and the tip of it came into Saul’s view.

The originally bluish-black ghostly face had now split into two, forming two identical human faces.

Each of these faces had its mouth wide open, and within each mouth was a person.

They were none other than Bill and Wright, who had tried to escape.

At this moment, both of them were in a pitiful state.

Wright had been bitten on the lower leg and was dragged back along the ground, leaving a long trail of blood mixed with dirt.

Around the area where he had been bitten, ice crystals had formed, spreading outward.

Bill was in even worse shape.

For some reason, he had been bitten by the ghostly face on the throat. The ice had already spread up to his chin, freezing his face into a bluish-purple hue.

He struggled to tear the ghostly face away, but his hands could not touch the Wraith. All he could do was desperately claw at the ice on his neck.

Yet, each time he scraped away a handful of ice, more ice crystals would form.

By the time the ghostly face dragged him in front of Saul, the once powerful and arrogant Bill was already on the verge of death.

Finally, the ghostly faces released both men and returned to Saul’s body.

The Wraith twisted its neck a couple of times, reacclimating itself to the human body.

It crouched down and pressed a hand against Bill’s face.

Bill, who understood what was about to happen, finally showed an expression of despair.

His mouth and nose were covered by the Wraith, and he let out muffled sounds, as if trying to say something.

Unfortunately for him, the Wraith had no intention of talking.

At that moment, Saul suddenly seized control of his body once more.

Looking at Bill beneath his hand, Saul asked in a low voice, "Back underground, before the Wraith even caught up to us, why did you lead me into the left passage? Why did you insist on sacrificing me?"

Bill’s pupils contracted to needlepoints, his face filled with disbelief as he stared at Saul.

Wright, who was beside them, also heard Saul's question. With what little mobility he had left, he suddenly sat up.

"You… you're Saul?" Wright’s voice carried shock, mixed with a hint of joy.

But Saul ignored Wright. He only repeated his question.

"Why?"

Bill’s gaze wavered. He moved his lips as if to make an excuse.

However, Saul looked straight into his eyes and suddenly chuckled.

"So, you don’t plan to tell the truth."

As soon as he finished speaking, Bill watched in horror as the expression of the person in front of him suddenly changed.

The mocking smile twisted into something eerie.

Bill’s eyes widened in realization, but he had no time to say anything.

The Wraith forcefully tore his soul from his body.

Bill’s soul was not as solid as Herman’s, but he still struggled.

He was unwilling to accept this fate. This was supposed to be just a reconnaissance mission—how had it turned into his demise?

Bill tried to flee, abandoning his body entirely.

If Saul could become an Wraith, then why couldn’t he?

Unfortunately, Bill’s lack of knowledge about spiritual bodies led him to make a fatal mistake. Fleeing outward only caused his already fragile soul to deteriorate faster.

Wright, still conscious, could only watch helplessly as Bill was devoured by the Wraith.

The sheer terror of the moment actually calmed Wright’s mind slightly.

"This Wraith can't possibly be Saul. He was just a Level 2 Apprentice. Even if he turned into an Wraith, he shouldn’t be this powerful right away."

"Saul’s consciousness wasn’t immediately erased after being devoured? He actually managed to hold on until now? How did he do it?"

Unfortunately, Wright specialized in earth-element sorcery—good for burying people, but useless against spirits.

The little low-level sorcery he knew to counter Wraiths was ineffective against this one.

As he watched the Wraith finish consuming Bill’s soul, Wright desperately tried to recall anything useful.

"If Saul could do it, then I should be able to as well. Saul is still weak—he must have exploited some loophole! Danger comes from the unknown, danger comes from the unknown... Wright, think!"

"Right, this is Hanging Valley, and that Wraith is called Lord Morton. I remember that name from the intelligence reports on Hanging Valley. He was… he was…"

Just as Wright was about to recall something crucial, the Wraith exhaled deeply and discarded Bill’s corpse.

Yet, instead of immediately dealing with Wright, the Wraith hesitated for the first time.

It stood still, its deranged expression giving way to one of contemplation.

The repeated moments of lost consciousness had alerted it to something unusual.

At first, it dismissed the incidents—after all, it had spent a long time wandering underground in a dazed state.

It also knew that its current strength came from consuming countless other Wraiths, vengeful souls, and even fragmented spirits in the abyss.

This consumption had also caused its consciousness to become chaotic—sometimes clear, sometimes frenzied.

But ever since it took over this boy’s body, its mind had steadily recovered, and reason had begun to dominate.

Yet in such a short time, it had experienced multiple sudden blackouts.

That was definitely not normal.

Slowly, the Wraith curled its lips into a smile.

Now that it had noticed the problem, it was no longer a problem.

"Is it because I absorbed too many spirits in a short time? Hmph, uncooperative fools."

Upon hearing this, Saul, who was watching from his consciousness, smirked and then withdrew entirely, sitting back onto the diary.

For now, he would leave the body to the chaotic spiritual entities.

The Wraith slowly turned to Wright.

By now, Wright still hadn’t recalled the key information about Morton.

He tried to back away, but one of his legs was tightly restrained. His spiritual energy and magic were exhausted, and none of the tools he had left could harm the Wraith.

"Ugh… In my next life, I swear I’ll study harder..."

The Wraith sneered at the desperate man.

"If my soul is too crowded, then killing you will be an easy solution. Consider yourself lucky."

The Wraith raised its hand, and ice crystals formed at its fingertips.

At that moment…

"Lord Morton!"

It wasn’t the voice of the ghostly faces.

The Wraith looked up and saw a figure suddenly appear behind Wright.

He recognized this person—it was someone he had encountered in the underground soul storm.

Yet, after reaching the surface, this person had disappeared.

"Byron!" Wright, who had been ready to die, suddenly heard a familiar voice.

But when he turned around, he realized it was only Byron’s projection.

He quickly looked down and saw the cyan-blue transmission artifact in his arms glowing.

"Byron… When did he…?"

The Wraith stepped forward, kicked Wright down, and casually stepped on him.

"You came to save him?"

Byron slowly shook his head.

"Actually, Lord Morton… I came for you."

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