Mok stared at his palms. Usually, his hands were stained with nothing more than ink or the residue of a frantic morning coffee. Now, thin veins of silver light were beginning to trace paths under his skin, glowing in rhythm with Kael's crimson eyes.
"What is happening to me?" Mok whispered. His voice sounded deeper, vibrating with a resonance that didn't belong to a city-dwelling architect.
Kael stepped closer, his presence a cold weight that somehow felt like a protective shield. "When you died five centuries ago, you didn't just leave me behind. You left your essence. You were a High Scholar of the Sun—a soul capable of weaving the threads of reality into protection. The villagers fear you as much as they fear me."
The First Spark
A sudden, sharp crack echoed from the cave's entrance. A group of villagers, led by the clouded-eyed elder, had reached the precipice. They weren't carrying flashlights; they carried torches infused with a sickly green flame—the mark of the old witchcraft.
"Bring the boy back!" the elder roared from above. "Do not let the Vessel wake the Beast!"
The elder raised a gnarled wooden staff and slammed it against the ground. A bolt of jagged green energy hissed through the air, diving into the pit toward Mok.
Mok's instincts took over. He didn't think; he didn't plan. He simply threw his hand upward.
A shimmering barrier of golden light, translucent as a dragonfly's wing, erupted from his palm. When the green bolt hit the shield, it didn't shatter. Instead, the gold light absorbed the green energy, neutralizing it with a sound like a soft sigh.
Mok gasped, stumbling back into Kael's arms. "I... I did that?"
"No," Kael murmured against his ear, his voice a dark velvet. " We did that. Your soul provides the light, and my presence provides the anchor. Together, we are the balance they tried to destroy."
The Inheritance of the Sun
As the villagers began to descend the steep walls using enchanted ropes, Mok felt a flood of information—a "data dump" from his past life. It wasn't just magic; it was a sensory expansion.
The Sight of the Unseen: The blue lilies in the cave suddenly began to glow with auras. Mok could see the flow of energy—the Prana—moving through the earth like subterranean rivers.
Architectural Resonance: His modern skills as an architect merged with his past life's geomancy. He didn't just see a cave; he saw the structural weaknesses of the rock and how to manipulate them with a thought.
The Shared Pulse: He could feel Kael's emotions. The demon wasn't just angry; he was terrified of losing Mok again. This connection acted as a battery, fueling Mok's newfound abilities.
"They're coming," Mok said, his fear being replaced by a strange, ancient calm.
"Let them," Kael hissed, his shadow expanding until it covered the entire back wall of the chamber. "They have forgotten who governed this valley before they built their houses on our graves."
The Trial of the Cave
The first of the village "guardians" touched down on the cavern floor. They were dressed in traditional hempen armor, etched with binding runes. They looked at Mok not as a man, but as a stolen treasure.
"Mok, come away from him!" one of the younger men shouted. It was the same man who had helped them carry their luggage two days ago. "He's a parasite! He's feeding on your life force!"
"He's been waiting for me," Mok countered, his voice steady.
Mok closed his eyes and reached into the 'storage' of his soul. He pictured the luxury resort blueprints he had studied—the clean lines, the structural integrity. He combined that with the ancient knowledge of the Sun Scholar.
He slammed his foot onto the stone floor.
The earth didn't shake; it rearranged. The blue lilies grew at an impossible speed, their vines lashing out like whips to wrap around the villagers' ankles, pinning them to the floor without harming them. The golden light from Mok's veins flowed into the flowers, creating a cage of living color.
The elder, still perched at the top, screamed in rage. "The seal is breaking! The Vessel has chosen the Beast!"
The Cost of Power
As the last villager was restrained, the golden light in Mok's veins flared one last time before dimming. A wave of exhaustion hit him like a physical blow. His knees buckled, and he collapsed.
Kael caught him before he hit the ground, cradling him with a tenderness that defied his demonic nature.
"It's too much for your current body," Kael whispered, stroking Mok's hair. "Your human form is like a glass cup trying to hold the ocean."
Mok looked up, his vision blurring. "Will they... will they come back?"
"Yes," Kael said, his eyes turning to the cave entrance where the moon was beginning to set. "And your teammates will come looking for you soon. They will bring the modern world with them—machines, cameras, and noise. We cannot stay here."
Mok grabbed Kael's tattered sleeve. "Where do we go?"
Kael looked down at him, a predatory yet loving glint in his eyes. "Deep. We go to the places they haven't found yet. We go to the heart of the mountain where the rest of your memories are buried."