My Anime Shopping Tree & My Cold Prodigy Wife!
Episode : 124

Chapter: 247

Decades. While he had been living a peaceful, technologically advanced life on Earth, growing old, raising a family, they had been here, in this world of magic and steel, accumulating power, honing their skills, nursing their hatred. They wouldn't be nineteen-year-old novices like him, struggling with a single, sluggish Spirit Core and a newly awakened, still-unfamiliar Void power. They would be seasoned adults. They would be Masters, perhaps even Grand Masters, of their respective guilds. They would be Barons, Viscounts, perhaps even Dukes, their influence woven deep into the fabric of this world’s society. They might have Ascended, even Transcended, spirits. Their Void powers would be ranked, refined, deadly.

The power disparity wasn't just a possibility; it was a certainty. His brutal, comprehensive defeat at Ben’s hands was no longer just a humiliating lesson; it was a terrifying preview of what was to come. Ben, even crippled, even after years of pain and adaptation, had overwhelmed him with sheer, raw power. What would a fully-abled, magically-gifted, vengeance-fueled terrorist leader be capable of?

And his destiny… Ben had said they were linked. His old enemies, his old allies… their fates were somehow intertwined with his own here, in this strange, new world. Was this some cosmic, cruel joke? A grand, bloody reunion tour staged by a capricious god with a sick sense of humor?

The soap. The factory. The fifteen thousand Gold Coins. It all felt so… small now. So fragile. So hopelessly, pathetically, inadequate. What good was a revolutionary cleansing elixir against a trained assassin with a Transcended spirit and a generations-old grudge? What good was a perfectly optimized supply chain against a cabal of reborn terrorists plotting to destabilize the entire Duchy?

His recent victories, the praise from his father, the respect from the clan, the favor of the King… it all turned to ash in his mouth. He hadn't been proving his worth; he had been painting a target on his back. A big, bright, 'here I am, all you ghosts from my past, come and get me' target. Every display of his hidden power, every hint of his unusual knowledge, would be a beacon, a signal to those who were watching, those who remembered.

The urgency, a frantic, desperate pressure he hadn't felt since the first, terrifying days after his family’s assassination in his first life, seized him. He was no longer just in a political game; he was in a race. A desperate, life-or-death race for survival.

He needed power. Not just the slow, steady accumulation from his soap venture. Not just the ten System Coins per day from his allowance. He needed it now. He needed to Ascend Fang. He needed to rank up his Steel Blood, his Black Ring Eyes. He needed to buy new spirits, new Void powers, to diversify his arsenal, to become as unpredictable, as dangerous, as the ghosts that were now hunting him.

He looked at his System balance, the number glowing starkly in his mind. 598 SC. It had seemed like a fortune just hours ago. Now, it felt like pocket change. 500 for Fang’s Ascension. That was the first, most critical step. It would leave him with 98 coins, but it would be worth it. An Ascended spirit was a significant leap in power, not just for the spirit itself, but for the user. It would deepen their bond, enhance his own energy reserves, perhaps even grant him access to new, more potent lightning abilities through Fang.

It had to be done. Now.

He closed his eyes, ignoring the throbbing in his legs, the weary ache in his soul. He focused on the System interface, on the pulsating icon for his bonded spirit.

[Spirit: Fang (Lightning Affinity)]

[Current Stage: Manifestation (Peak)]

[Upgrade to Ascension Stage? Cost: 500 System Coins]

There was no hesitation. No second thoughts. The long-term financial strategy could go to hell. Survival came first.

"Yes," he commanded mentally, his will a cold, hard shard of steel. "Do it. Now."

The System acknowledged the command instantly.

[Processing Request: Spirit Ascension Protocol]

[500 System Coins Deducted.]

[New Balance: 98 SC]

[Initiating Ascension Sequence for Spirit Designation: Fang…]

He didn't know what to expect. A flash of light? A surge of power? But the transformation happened not in the quiet guest room, but deep within his own soul, at the very core of his bond with his spirit companion. He felt it. A profound, fundamental shift. A deepening. A soundless, spiritual explosion as the barriers within Fang’s own being, and within their connection, shattered, unleashing a wave of raw, untamed, primal lightning power that surged through their bond, making Lloyd’s own spirit core ache with a blissful, terrifying energy overload.

Chapter: 248

The gathering storm had just arrived. And Lloyd Ferrum, armed with the ghosts of his past, the fears for his future, and a newly Ascended, terrifyingly powerful lightning wolf, was finally, truly, beginning to fight back.

---

[Initiating Ascension Sequence for Spirit Designation: Fang…]

The change was instantaneous. It wasn't a slow build-up of energy, but a cataclysmic explosion within his very soul. He felt the bond between himself and Fang, usually a strong, steady thrum of connection, suddenly ignite, transforming into a raging, white-hot river of pure, untamed power. An immense, overwhelming wave of energy surged from the unseen, intangible System, pouring not into Lloyd, but through him, using him as a conduit, a gateway, into the very essence of his spirit partner.

It felt like grabbing onto a live, cosmic power line. His own meager Spirit Core screamed in protest, overwhelmed by the sheer, unimaginable voltage. A cry of pain and effort ripped from his throat as he was thrown back, stumbling against the writing desk, sending parchments and inkwells scattering.

He didn't need to summon Fang. The process did it for him.

The air in the center of the room tore apart. Not with a shimmer, but with a violent, explosive rupture of reality itself. Light, brilliant, blinding, and impossibly white, erupted from the focal point, a miniature sun born in the heart of his suite. It pulsed once, twice, a silent, concussive wave of pure energy that made the very tapestries on the walls ripple and the glass in the windows hum with a high, keening note.

Lloyd shielded his eyes, his heart hammering, his every nerve ending screaming with the overload of raw, unfiltered power. The connection to Fang, his Fang, was still there, but it was different now. Deeper. More intense. Woven not just with loyalty and affection, but with an ancient, primal, terrifyingly potent energy that he had only glimpsed before. This was the true nature of his spirit, unleashed, unshackled, reborn in the crucible of Ascension.

Then, as quickly as it had erupted, the blinding light began to recede, to coalesce, to fold in on itself, drawing back from the corners of the room, gathering, shaping, solidifying into a new form.

The light faded completely, leaving behind dancing, purple afterimages on Lloyd’s retinas and a profound, humming silence.

Where his dark grey wolf, his loyal companion, had stood, there was now… a woman.

---

The silence in the suite was absolute, profound. The echoes of the explosive Ascension still hummed in the very air, a lingering symphony of ozone and raw power. Lloyd, his back pressed against the writing desk, his breath still ragged from the spiritual backlash, could only stare, his mind struggling to process the impossible, breathtaking vision before him.

The wolf was gone.

In its place stood a woman. Or rather, the ethereal, breathtaking embodiment of a woman, a being who seemed less born of flesh and more woven from starlight and storm.

She was tall, her form slender yet radiating a palpable, contained strength. Her skin was pale, flawless, seeming to possess a faint, internal luminescence, like moonlight captured beneath alabaster. But it was her hair that stole his breath. It was no longer the storm-grey fur of a wolf, but a cascade of pure, shimmering silver-grey light that fell to her waist, each strand seeming to crackle with a faint, almost invisible, static charge. It moved with a life of its own, stirred by the residual energy in the room, a living river of molten moonlight.

And her eyes… they were the same. The same intelligent, molten-gold eyes he knew so well, the eyes of his loyal companion, his Fang. But now, set in this new, impossibly beautiful humanoid face, they held a new depth, a new awareness, a profound, ancient wisdom that seemed to look right through him, seeing not just the man, not just the Major General, but the very soul tied to hers. They were eyes that had seen the birth of storms and the death of stars.

She was clad not in cloth, but in what appeared to be a form-fitting bodysuit of pure, solidified energy, the color of a deep, twilight storm cloud, swirling with subtle patterns of darker grey and faint, shimmering indigo. It clung to her form like a second skin, accentuating every elegant line, every hint of contained, predatory power. It was less clothing, more a manifestation of her very essence.

This was Fang. Ascended.