Chapter 84: The Soul Network

Soul Bond was the spiritual connection established between Rhos and a named Spirit, which, in his current case, meant the little girl Morri.

The connection was far more substantial than Rhos had initially assumed. It was not merely some invisible tether proving that Morri belonged to him, nor was it only the mechanism that allowed him to summon and dismiss her.

The bond connected their spiritual existences closely enough that spiritual essence, information and certain compatible properties could flow between the bonded souls.

There were still large portions of the phenomenon Rhos did not understand, but after three weeks of experimentation, one property had become impossible to overlook.

Rhos could access Morri’s Totem Ability.

The first time Rhos learned of this, he was so astonished that he thought there had to be some mistake. His spiritual energy was officially classified as Delta.

No amount of improvement over the past three months changed that simple fact. His reserves and output hadn’t crossed the threshold necessary to manifest a Totem Ability naturally, which was precisely why Gamma Class represented such an important dividing line among humanity.

Yet somehow, through Morri, Rhos could use one anyway. He could control blood.

Not to borrow some weaker approximation of it, actually control blood.

It was an exception to a rule he had spent years believing was absolute.

Even though he could access Morri’s Blood Manipulation through their Soul Bond, he didn’t have access to her Totem Arts.

Blood Forging, Red Moon and Bloodstain were all recorded under Morri’s Spirit Archive Record, but none of them had transferred to him.

That distinction confused him at first until experimentation revealed something interesting.

The Soul Bond gave him reign to the ability. What he did with that ability was apparently his own responsibility.

Rhos sprinted through the abandoned district, leaping onto the roof of an old vehicle before pushing himself toward the wall of a nearby building.

His foot struck the brickwork, carried him several steps upward, and from there he caught the railing of a second-floor balcony.

He vaulted over it without slowing and crossed the empty apartment before launching himself through an open window on the opposite side.

Morning air struck his face again and he landed on another roof.

His senses remained spread across the surrounding district while he moved. The ghost town passed around him in blurs of green and concrete, leaping from rooftop to rooftop.

“Open Soul Bond Record”

Floating words unfolded across his vision without interrupting his movements.

[Soul Bond]

[01 — Morri]

[Totem Ability: Blood Manipulation]

[Totem Art: Blood Threads]

That was it. His Record was not as impressive.

Actually, he found the simplicity refreshing.

He had initially expected something comparable to Morri’s Record, but this was way better. The little girl’s Record was filled with information he had never heard of before, half of which created more questions than answers.

His own Soul Bond Record was practically empty by comparison. Still, everything written there belonged to abilities Rhos had personally verified.

He jumped across another alley.

Rhos had spent most of the last three weeks experimenting whenever his Exterminator work gave him enough free time. The earliest attempts had been embarrassing.

Moving a suspended droplet several centimeters required ridiculous concentration, and trying to divide his attention between manipulating blood and moving his own body caused him to lose control immediately each time.

Of course, he did this alongside Morri. She made the same ability look effortless, which was expected.

The Totem Ability belonged to her, as such it was expected of her to be vastly superior to him in its use. To her, it was as natural as moving her own fingers or putting her leg forward.

More annoyingly, she did not appear to suffer from the greatest limitation Rhos encountered.

That was… available blood. Morri could produce and manipulate quantities that Rhos could not match.

Perhaps their difference in physiology had something to do with. Rhos was just a human while Morri was a Spirit, the Tundra Blood Wolf.

Blood Manipulation required blood. He needed blood that already existed.

With no other source, Rhos turned to his own body. As such, using the ability usually began with deliberately injuring himself.

It was an arrangement he disliked immensely.

But where Rhos lacked Morri’s natural affinity, he compensated with technical control.

He had decent control over his spiritual energy, and years spent developing his body gave him something Morri lacked…

… a proper foundation in martial arts.

Once Rhos stopped trying to compete with Morri and started treating the blood itself as another weapon, everything became easier.

He didn’t need oceans of blood. He only needed a small amount to do exactly what he wanted.

That approach eventually produced something new.

[Blood Threads]

[Blood is compressed into thin, sharpened threads reinforced with spiritual energy. The threads remain connected to the user’s movements, allowing their trajectory, reach and cutting angles to be controlled through physical motion.]

Rhos dismissed the expanded description.

He didn’t need Morri’s Blood Forging. He didn’t need to create swords or enormous masses of blood.

A tiny amount was enough.

Blood Threads was the result.

The technique suited him almost embarrassingly well. The threads could extend his striking range far beyond his limbs while still responding directly to the same physical principles Rhos already understood.

Foot placement altered the angle. Hip rotation generated faster sweeps. Shoulder movement changed reach. Small movements of his fingers could separate or converge individual threads.

Against multiple weaker opponents, it was especially effective. The Totem Art complemented what he already knew rather than replacing it.

The pile of dismembered locusts he’d left behind proved that.

Rhos dropped from the roof. His boots struck a wooden walkway before he pushed himself forward again.

He could sense more spiritual energy signatures ahead. Most of them belong to the swarm of locusts and others belong to Arlen and Bront.

They were close by.

A distant boom rolled through the district, followed several seconds later by the unmistakable roar of something burning.

Rhos slowed.

Rather than charging directly toward the fighting, he entered an abandoned building through an open second-story window.

The interior appeared to have been a small family home. Breakfast dishes remained abandoned on a table downstairs, several cupboards had been left open during the evacuation and a child’s drawing was still attached to one wall.

Rhos moved carefully toward the northern window and crouched beside it, peeking outside.

What he saw could technically be described as a battle. But that would’ve been generous.

It looked more like pest control performed by someone with access to excessive firepower.

Bront dominated the air above the street.

The giant eagle banked between buildings, polished bronze feathers reflecting sunlight while blue spiritual energy burned through the gaps between them. Several locusts launched themselves upward in an attempt to reach him.

Bront opened his beak and blue fire erupted downward. The torrent swept across the street.

Locusts disappeared inside it.

Chitin blackened almost instantly, wings shriveled and vegetation unfortunate enough to lie in the path of the attack vanished beneath the flames.

Arlen remained firmly mounted on his back. The Exterminator barely seemed bothered by the violent movement.

His rifle– Longwing rested against his shoulder.

Longwing was a spiritech rifle built around replaceable Spirit Cells. Each cell stored spiritual energy that the internal mechanism compressed into small, highly concentrated projectiles. Instead of conventional ammunition relying primarily on physical mass, Longwing discharged extremely narrow bursts of concentrated spiritual energy at tremendous velocity.

The result wasn’t particularly dramatic. It was just brief flashes followed by holes appearing in things that shouldn’t have been easy to put holes through.

A locust that jumped toward Bront’s left flank got shot punched through its head. The creature dropped.

Another approached from beneath. Arlen shifted the rifle without even looking fully downward and fired again. The projectile entered through the locust’s upper thorax and emerged from its underside.

Rhos watched carefully. The weapon was impressive, sure but a weapon didn’t make a person strong.

Rhos had always believed that.

Put Longwing in the hands of someone who had never fired a rifle before and it would remain dangerous, certainly, but most of that danger would come from the possibility that the idiot holding it accidentally shot something.

Arlen made the rifle look terrifying because he knew exactly how to use it.

His marksmanship was exceptional.

Bront was constantly moving beneath him, sometimes climbing, diving or banking hard enough that an ordinary shooter would’ve struggled merely to maintain balance. Arlen compensated without conscious hesitation. Every adjustment of Bront’s body seemed to become part of his firing position.

Every pull of the trigger produced another corpse.

Rhos found himself wondering how much of that skill came from training and how much came from being an Adler. This guy was a scion of a legend after all.

Another wave of blue fire descended. Several more locusts burned.

Rhos settled against the window frame.

“They really don’t need me here.”

This was good because if Arlen wanted to handle everything himself, Rhos was perfectly willing to preserve his spiritual energy and avoid unnecessary injuries.

Instead, he used the opportunity to observe. And through close observation did he notice something odd with their behaviour.

Some locusts were…. Escaping underground?

Apologies for not uploading. I ran into some technical difficulties