SPIRITBINDER: The Boy Without A Mark
Chapter 33: Greatness of Spiritbinding

Chapter 33: Greatness of Spiritbinding

Morvane hit the ground hard, his vision blurring as his upper body landed with a sickening thud. The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth, and he could barely process what had just happened. He was cut in two.

His fading sight caught Crimson standing frozen, his eyes wide with panic. "No... no, no, no! What have I done?" Crimson’s voice cracked as he stumbled backward, clutching his weapon like it had betrayed him.

In the background, Drevon watched the scene unfold with a twisted grin, his expression a stark contrast to Crimson’s despair. Morvane felt anger bubble inside him, but it was fleeting. His vision darkened as he closed his eyes, resigning himself to the cold embrace of death.

A sudden warmth engulfed him, spreading from the core of his being. It was comforting, almost protective, and it defied everything he knew about dying. Slowly, he became aware of his body again. When his eyes fluttered open, he realized his lower half was... reattaching itself. The muscles, bones, and skin knitted back together with an almost magical precision.

He gasped, the sensation so surreal it left him breathless. This was impossible.

Crimson’s voice cut through his thoughts. "What... What’s happening?" His tone wavered between awe and terror as he turned to Drevon. "What did you do?"

Drevon chuckled, clapping his hands together in mock celebration. "Ah, this is fantastic! Just as I expected." His laughter echoed in the clearing, adding to the tension that hung in the air.

Morvane sat up, his body fully intact as if he had never been injured. He stared down at himself in disbelief, running his hands over his torso to confirm what his eyes saw. There wasn’t even a scar.

"What just happened?" His voice trembled as he turned to Crimson, who looked just as bewildered.

"I don’t know," Crimson muttered, shaking his head. His usual confidence was gone, replaced by an expression of sheer confusion.

Drevon stepped closer, his smirk widening. "Oh, Morvane, my dear friend. You’ve just experienced the first taste of your true nature. Things are about to get very interesting."

Morvane stared at Drevon, his voice trembling with a mix of anger and disbelief. "What just happened to me?"

Drevon’s grin didn’t falter. "Well, last night, your shadow beast got a little... carried away. It devoured an unusually high number of spirits. I’ve been thinking—many of those spirits must have possessed healing magic when they were alive. By absorbing them, you’ve inherited their abilities, and now your healing magic is so potent it bends the very laws of magic itself."

Morvane’s eyes narrowed. "You... think that’s what happened?"

Drevon laughed, throwing his hands up. "At first, I wasn’t sure. But, you know, I had to test the theory."

Before Morvane could respond, Crimson stepped forward, his voice rising in anger. "Wait! You weren’t sure? And you still let me cut him in half? What if he had died?!"

Drevon turned his head toward Crimson, completely unfazed by the outburst. "Don’t worry," he said with a casual shrug, "if he died, we’d have given him a grand funeral. But hey, he’s alive, isn’t he? That’s what matters."

Crimson’s fists clenched, his teeth grinding in frustration, but he said nothing.

Drevon shifted his attention back to Morvane, his tone suddenly serious. "You, Morvane, this is the greatness of your power. Imagine how much stronger you could become if you keep devouring spirits. And if my guess is correct, the stronger the spirit you consume, the more potent and versatile the magic you’ll gain."

Morvane’s jaw tightened, his thoughts racing. The warmth from his restored body still lingered, but now it felt like a curse as much as a gift. "You’re saying this as if it’s some kind of blessing, but you didn’t even care if it killed me," he said, his voice laced with bitterness.

Drevon leaned in closer, his eyes glinting with excitement. "Morvane, power doesn’t come without risks. And you? You’ve already proven that you can survive. This is just the beginning."

The sound of footsteps echoed through the clearing, interrupting the tense conversation. Medas emerged from the shadows, his piercing gaze fixed on the three of them. "Drevon, Crimson, Morvane," he called out firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Drevon sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes as he turned to face Medas. "Medas, it’s a little early for dinner, don’t you think?"

Medas crossed his arms, his expression unwavering. "I didn’t call you for dinner. I saw what happened earlier. Care to explain everything, Drevon?"

Drevon chuckled, shaking his head as he strolled toward the dining table Medas gestured to. Morvane and Crimson followed, exchanging uneasy glances. When they reached the table, it was bare—no food, no drinks, only the weight of Medas’s stern gaze.

Drevon leaned back in his chair, his usual smirk creeping onto his face. "Alright, alright, I’ll explain. But try not to get angry, okay?"

Medas’s eyes narrowed. "Talk."

Drevon clasped his hands together dramatically. "Well, as you already know, last night we were practicing at the cemetery. Morvane’s shadow beast ended up devouring a few spirits. But, before you blow up on me, those spirits attacked us first. In fact," he added with a flourish, "we even saved one."

Medas’s expression didn’t soften. "Go on."

"All spirits have powers they held when they were alive," Drevon continued, "and even as spirits, they retain those powers. When the shadow beast devoured them, their magic didn’t vanish—it was collected."

He gestured toward Morvane. "Now, show him the frame."

Morvane hesitated, but under Medas’s intense gaze, he reached into his cloak and pulled out a small, intricate frame. Seven glowing gems adorned it, each shimmering with a different color. The soft light danced across their faces as they stared at the strange artifact.

Medas leaned in slightly, his brow furrowing. "What is that?"

Drevon’s grin widened. "This is the power collected by the shadow beast. Earlier, there were eight gems. Crimson can confirm that."

Crimson nodded reluctantly, his arms crossed. "It’s true. One of the gems were absorbed before... well, before what happened to Morvane."

"Exactly," Drevon continued. "Morvane absorbed the yellow gem earlier—that’s why he has healing magic now. Healing magic is one of the most common abilities among baltalahans, so I’d wager that many of the spirits the beast devoured had it. That’s why Morvane’s healing power is so potent—it’s layered with the strength of multiple spirits."

Medas’s eyes narrowed further. "That still doesn’t explain how healing magic could bypass one of the most fundamental laws. Healing magic can’t return someone from the dead or fix fatal injuries. What happened to Morvane earlier shouldn’t be possible."

Drevon leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "You’re absolutely right. The gods above set those laws in place to prevent Baltalahans from abusing magic. But you’re forgetting something important." He pointed at the frame, a gleam of excitement in his eyes. "Morvane’s healing magic isn’t normal. It’s so potent it broke that law. Imagine—what if more than ten spirits with healing magic were devoured? That would make his magic ten times stronger than any ordinary caster’s. That kind of power doesn’t just heal wounds; it rewrites reality itself."

Medas’s lips pressed into a thin line as he absorbed the explanation. The glow of the frame seemed to pulse, as if responding to the tension in the room. Finally, he spoke, his voice cold and steady. "If this is true, then we’re dealing with something far greater than any of us anticipated. This... changes everything."

Morvane stood, his expression shifting between wonder and determination. "So this means my power is based on the number of spirits my shadow beast devours?"

Medas raised a hand to cut him off, his voice stern. "Please, don’t get carried away by this revelation. While it might sound great to you, the consequences could be severe. Drevon, are you certain there won’t be any repercussions?"

Drevon leaned back in his chair, his smirk softening into something more contemplative. "Medas, I’m a demon. If there was anything inherently wrong or dangerous about this process, I’d sense it. Trust me, I wouldn’t have let him join me at the cemetery last night if I thought otherwise." He glanced pointedly at Crimson, then at Morvane. "That was the proper training for him. To grow and understand the extent of his power, he needs to devour spirits."

Crimson’s voice cut through the room like a blade. "And what happens to the spirits that are devoured? What becomes of them, Drevon?"

Drevon’s smirk returned, this time with a hint of mischief. "Well, contrary to popular belief, no spirits go to heaven or hell. Every spirit must be reincarnated—it’s a cosmic rule. So, if you ask me, those spirits are either in the process of being reborn or already have been. They’re not lost forever, just... recycled."

Medas’s eyes narrowed, suspicion lacing his voice. "Are you sure about that?"

Drevon met his gaze evenly, his tone unwavering. "Absolutely. I wouldn’t lie about something like this."

He paused for a moment, then leaned forward with a more serious expression. "But there’s something else you should know. When Morvane’s shadow beast devours a spirit, it doesn’t just take their power—it takes their essence. The stronger the spirit, the more profound the impact on him. That’s why this training is so critical. Without understanding how to control this, Morvane could become overwhelmed by the sheer weight of the magic he absorbs. It’s not just about power—it’s about balance."

Morvane’s excitement dimmed slightly, the weight of Drevon’s words settling over him. "So, you’re saying there’s a risk?"

Drevon nodded. "There’s always a risk when dealing with power like this. But with proper guidance—and the right decisions—you could become someone truly extraordinary. The kind of person who changes the course of fate itself."

Medas studied Morvane closely, his expression unreadable. "Extraordinary or not, you’re walking a dangerous path. Be sure you know what you’re sacrificing for this power, Morvane."

The room fell silent, the glow of the gems in the frame casting flickering shadows on their faces. For the first time, Morvane felt the true weight of the choices ahead of him.