Arthur's eyes fluttered open, hazy at first, the bright infirmary lights stabbing at his vision. His muscles ached, his chest rose and fell with ragged breaths, and an unfamiliar heaviness pressed against him from within. For a moment, he wasn't sure where he was—then the memories flooded back: the collapse, the glowing surge of energy, the shadows of those he had wronged.
He tried to summon even a sliver of cultivation, willing the energy to flow—but the chains pulsing around his mana core tightened violently. A harsh, burning sensation raced through his chest and limbs, forcing him back onto the bed. The SYSTEM's voice echoed coldly in his mind:
"Unauthorized cultivation detected. The Misfit's restraint reinforced."
Every attempted movement became heavier, as if invisible weights pressed against his limbs. His mana pool, already halved by the title, screamed in protest—every cell of his body fighting an invisible barricade.
This… this is insane, Arthur gasped, sweat streaking his face. The frustration, the guilt, the lingering resentment of Rex—it all fed the chains, making them pulse faster, tighter, stronger.
For a moment, he thought he could break through by sheer will—but the Soulborne system responded instantly. The more he struggled, the more the chains constricted, a living reminder of every life he had wronged, every choice he had evaded.
"The Misfit…" the voice of the SYSTEM echoed, almost tauntingly. "Every step you refuse to understand, every attempt to bypass responsibility, strengthens the chains. You will learn… or you will lose everything."
Arthur's breaths came in ragged gasps, his body trembling violently. He clenched his fists, trying to steady himself, to endure the pressure—but even that small act of defiance made the chains pulse like wildfire, a cruel, unrelenting rhythm of punishment.
"Seven days… I will find Rex," he muttered, voice trembling yet determined. "And I will… fix this… no matter what it takes."
Outside the infirmary, the commotion had already reached the ears of senior instructors. One healer, concern etched across their face, hurried to inform them of Arthur's state.
"He's awake… but barely," the healer said, voice tight. "His core… it's sealed, and his condition is… extraordinary. I've never felt anything like it."
The instructors shared uneasy glances. None had ever sensed such interference on a mortal's core—something far beyond even Divine-tier power. Without delay, they summoned the Headmaster.
Within moments, the Ascendant-tier cultivator arrived, his presence commanding and overwhelming. The infirmary fell silent as he approached Arthur's bed, his gaze piercing.
"Arthur Frederick," he said, voice low but firm. "Explain what happened here."
Arthur's eyes, still burning with fatigue and the lingering pulse of the chains, met the Headmaster's. "I… I know why this is happening," he rasped, voice strained. "It's… my fault. I—"
A sharp, mechanical echo cut through his mind:
SYSTEM ALERT: Unauthorized disclosure detected. Soulborne secrecy enforcement active.
Arthur froze mid-word, a shiver running down his spine. I… can't tell him…
The SYSTEM continued, cold and unwavering:
Soulborne knowledge is restricted. Revealing class or task may result in escalation of punitive feedback. Cease immediately.
Arthur clenched his teeth, swallowing the words he wanted to speak. His chest burned, the chains inside his mana core pulsing like a living entity, as if reacting to even the thought of defiance.
He forced himself to speak cautiously, hiding the truth behind vague words. "I… something beyond me intervened. I couldn't control it," he murmured instead, tone measured.
The Headmaster's brow furrowed, sensing the subtle tremors of judgment lingering in the air. "I see… something far above the Divine Realm has interfered with you," he said slowly, his voice carrying the weight of experience. "If your body had failed… your soul… would have been subjugated. Punished endlessly."
A chill swept through the room. The healers and instructors exchanged uneasy glances. Even among seasoned cultivators, the thought of a soul trapped in endless torment was terrifying.
Arthur's hands clenched the sheets, jaw tight. The invisible chains pulsed sharply inside him, forcing him to endure, to resist, to survive. He could feel the lingering judgment of those he had betrayed, the resentment of Rex and countless others—the weight of every past choice pressing him down.
The Headmaster softened slightly, though his eyes remained sharp. "You survived… barely. That force has marked you. Whatever it is… we cannot challenge it, and we cannot predict its design or intent. Endure it, and perhaps redemption may be possible. Fail… and your soul will pay the price."
He turned to the instructors, voice steady and commanding. "Observe him. Intervene only if necessary. This is not ordinary cultivation… it is the balance itself, correcting a mortal's path."
Arthur's vision blurred slightly as the chains pulsed violently around his sealed core, punishing and restraining him. Even fully conscious, he felt the weight of his trial pressing down. Every movement, every breath, reminded him of his failure, his guilt—and the urgency of the task ahead.