"What do you mean by that?"He glanced at me, lantern in hand, sparks flickering from its cracked glass.
I smiled — that kind of smile that never reaches the eyes."I mean, I know you've seen something inside me… no matter how little."
He froze for a moment. The look on his face was almost comical."You know, I'm not that stupid," I added with a laugh, unable to hide my amusement at his awkwardness.
Caution had always been my shield. No amount of smooth talk from him could make me forget the tiny details — the inconsistencies that stank of deceit.Never get comfortable, I reminded myself, tossing the coin once more before sliding it back into my pocket.
"Don't mind that," I said when I caught his glance. "It's just how I keep myself sane."
His voice broke the silence, hesitant."...And why would you think I've seen what's inside you?"
Ah. There it was — the tremor in his tone. I grinned, eyes lighting up."There are many things within me I don't fully understand," I said, my words quick, sharper than I meant them to be. "Whatever it is, it's been corroding me from the inside. My best guess? It's rooted in my true core."
I took a step closer, watching his expression shift. My heart was racing — not out of fear, but a kind of exhilaration."And you… you seem to know something. Don't tell me you don't know how to peer into someone's core. You've been around too long for that."
A pulse of dark excitement thrummed in my chest. It was… thrilling, watching him falter.
"I figured it out after the Dark Heaven ordeal," I continued, circling him. "The true core keeps me from being consumed by death mana. It's tied to my soul — something you conveniently taught me after I grasped the basics."
He said nothing, and I kept talking, the rhythm of my own voice strangely satisfying."And you — you're the one who kept pushing me toward it, weren't you? Ever since I got here. Always urging me to 'find my core,' to 'merge' it. You seemed so calm, so amused after I woke up. Gone was the nervous wreck I met earlier."
I stopped walking and leaned in, resting a hand on his shoulder."Oh, and you didn't even bother lying properly at the start. Just half-truths and smug little grins. And of course—"I smirked. "—you're the one who said, 'The dead never lie.'"
He brushed my hand off and stepped back, leaning against one of the marble pillars."And you actually believed that?" he said, voice calm now — eerily so.
"No," I said simply. "But I've got enough proof—"
"Indeed," he cut me off smoothly. "The dead cannot lie. That's… a given."His tone dropped to something hollow, almost reverent. "It's in our nature. Corpses can only tell the truth about their own death."
I exhaled a slow, sharp breath. "...Fine. Then tell me, what did you see in me?"
His reply came like a whisper from a grave."...Memories."
That single word hit me harder than I expected."Memories? My memories?" I asked, voice rising. My pulse quickened.That was one of the things I dreaded most — someone else glimpsing that.
Though… I can't say I'm not disappointed.I had half-hoped he'd found something more — some clue about the decay crawling through me.
"Your secrets," he said quietly. "The reason you… well, I couldn't go deeper. Every time I tried, your subconscious fought back. I couldn't reach the full picture."
He looked uneasy, but here, in the land of death, there was no point in hostility. Neither of us could hurt the other anyway.
I wiped the cold sweat from my face, forcing my tone steady."I see. Then I won't push further. What's done is done.""But tell me—why did you do it? What was the point?"
"...Freedom," he said finally, voice weary."Everyone here accepts this realm — the Dead World. They stay. They settle. But me? I want out."
He fell silent, staring at nothing."Yet how does one escape death?" he whispered. "There is no ruler of the dead, but death itself is a ruler. It's law. The freest thing that ever existed… yet the strongest chain that binds."
"And the only way out," he continued, eyes glinting faintly, "is with help. I knew it the moment you arrived — you could be that help. But even then, I had to be careful."
"Not careful enough," I said, chuckling under my breath. "The fact that you're talking to me is proof of that. Still, I suppose it helps that neither of us can harm the other."
He didn't argue. I followed him through the dim hallway, the light of his lantern flickering ahead.
"So," I said, my tone casual but curious, "how do you plan to do it?"
He glanced back. "I noticed you haven't made a soul pact yet. What do you say… about forming one with me?"
A soul covenant — mutual, binding, dangerous.For him, a chance at freedom. For me, a source of power.A tempting proposition indeed.
"Sounds nice," I said, stepping over a pile of crumbled bones. "But I still don't trust you, ghost."
Our eyes met for a moment — silent, knowing. Neither of us bothered to say what we were both thinking.
...
Tap. Tap.
Our footsteps echoed faintly in the hollow corridor. The silence felt ancient, oppressive — only a few faint lights illuminating the way forward.
The walls were lined with cracked portraits, rusted armor, and marble statues that stared back like forgotten gods. Despite myself, I felt a strange awe. The place was morbidly beautiful — a masterpiece of ruin.
We passed through a side chamber, and I almost drooled.Piles of treasure. Gold coins. Jewel-encrusted blades. Armor gleaming faintly under the dust.
"Don't touch that," the wraith said, voice flat. "It doesn't take kindly to the greedy."
I clicked my tongue, stepping back before temptation got the better of me.
At the far end of the chamber stood a cracked wall, and beneath it — half-buried in dust — something caught my eye.
I bent down, brushed the grime away, and froze.It was unmistakable.
The Moon-Boned Wraith.
A white skull, faintly glowing from within — the remnant of some nameless ancient hero. Said to grant the bearer an ability deeply attuned to their own body.
I lifted it and turned to the wraith."This thing will let you form a temporary body," I said, grinning. "You won't have to live inside my mana core anymore. Convenient, right?"
Truth be told, I'd been considering a pact for a while — but nothing ever seemed fitting. A ghost powered by death mana, willing to bond willingly? That was a rare stroke of luck.
"...I accept," he said softly. "I can't exactly be picky anymore."
"Good," I said, lips curling. "Though we can't form it just yet — we'll need natural mana for the ritual. So until then…"My grin sharpened. "Let's discuss the terms, shall we?"
He sighed — a sound somewhere between exhaustion and resignation."...Control yourself, human— my esteemed guest."