"When a soul crosses worlds, it doesn't arrive alone—it brings echoes, fragments… and sometimes, something darker."
The snake aura twisted around Arsh's body, its shimmering form calm and precise—a stark contrast to the wild, uncontrollable energy it once was. But the man he now faced—the one who had once walked beside him as a humble, broken slave—was no ordinary fighter. He moved like a ghost in battle, each strike a blur, each dodge a calculated whisper of death.
They clashed again.
Fists cracked against skin, knees collided, and the forest echoed with sharp bursts of cursed energy. The trees trembled, bark splintering from shockwaves that exploded every time their bodies collided.
Arsh roared and launched forward, his snake aura snapping out like a whip—its spiritual jaws opening wide to bite.
The man spun, deflecting the serpent with the back of his palm before slamming his elbow into Arsh's ribs. The impact cracked bone. Arsh gasped and staggered, but his aura steadied him, circling protectively as he regained balance.
"You've improved," the man said, eyes narrowing. "But you still lack one thing."
"What?" Arsh growled, wiping blood from his mouth.
"Killer instinct," the man replied—and struck again.
He shot low, sweeping Arsh's legs out from under him. Arsh rolled backward just in time, his aura lashing out to push the man away. But the warrior didn't falter—he surged back in, grabbing Arsh's wrist and twisting it midair, flipping him straight onto his back with a heavy thud.
Arsh coughed, wind knocked from his lungs, but he swung upward with a powerful kick. It missed—barely. The man leapt into the trees, then dropped back down like a meteor, aiming a crushing strike at Arsh's shoulder.
The snake aura coiled up just in time, absorbing the blow with a blast of cursed pressure—but it flickered. Arsh's control was still shaky.
"You're holding onto that snake like it's a weapon," the man said, stepping back. "But it's part of you now. You have to stop treating your power like something separate."
Arsh got to his feet, panting, eyes sharp. "I am using it. This time it's under control."
The man's voice turned colder. "Under control? That snake has tasted death. It wants more. And you? You're still confused—still chained to these demons."
Arsh's eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about?"
"Hind Man," the warrior said. The name hit like thunder through the forest.
Arsh flinched.
"That's right. He found me. Back when I was just another broken soul, another slave in a demon pit. But Hind Man—he didn't look at me with pity. He threw me into a pit of monsters and said, 'Climb out—or die.'"
He stepped forward, cursed energy leaking from his hands like fire.
"Everything I am now, he built. I learned to kill demons. I learned to kill their guards. Their generals. Their dogs."
He pointed at Arsh now, eyes burning.
"And that's what you are. Their dog."
The words hit harder than any punch.
But Arsh didn't flinch.
"I'm not their dog," he said slowly, voice steady. "I stood in their arena, yes. But I fought for us. I saved slaves. I helped Suyon. I freed people. I never obeyed demons—I defeated them."
The man scoffed. "Still using words to justify your chains."
He vanished again—this time appearing behind Arsh.
A heavy punch slammed into Arsh's back—but the snake aura intercepted it just in time, coiling around the man's arm and flinging him backward.
Arsh growled and leapt forward, matching the man's speed now. Their fists met in midair. A shockwave blasted out, flattening the grass around them. Arsh followed with a knee to the gut—landed. The man coughed blood but twisted his body and slammed a palm into Arsh's chest, sending him flying into a tree.
Arsh gritted his teeth, pain blooming in his ribs—but he didn't fall.
He stood again.
The snake hissed, but it didn't rage.
Instead, it circled Arsh's body with discipline, waiting on him.
"I'm not a dog," Arsh repeated, walking forward again. "And I'm not weak. I don't follow demons. I fight for something bigger than revenge."
"Oh?" the man laughed bitterly. "Then why are you here?"
"To find the truth," Arsh said. "About Atharv. About the war. And maybe… about myself."
The man paused, eyes flickering.
The two circled each other in the ruined clearing, surrounded by broken trees, slashed bark, and scorched leaves.
One fought for survival. The other fought for purpose.
But neither could deny it anymore—
This wasn't just a test.
This was a reckoning.
The warrior's foot pivoted, and his elbow struck Arsh clean across the temple.Crack.Arsh's world spun sideways. Everything turned dark, like the forest itself had swallowed him whole. The snake aura shrieked once, then vanished into silence.
He was falling.
Not through the air…
But through memories that weren't his own.
When Arsh's eyes opened again, he was standing in the middle of a battlefield unlike anything he had seen.
The skies burned orange and red, storms swirling above in the shape of serpents and dragons. Beneath that sky, two figures stood in the center of war—one, a man clad in tattered silver armor, his body covered in glowing scars. The other—a massive, divine serpent humanoid with nine heads, coiled in radiant blue flames.
Bhairav.
His presence alone shook the sky. His hoods flickered with energy, his gold-marked forehead gleaming like firelight against shadow.
And beside him—the man.
He didn't have a name Arsh knew, but there was something deeply familiar about him. His aura was intense, not wild like a beast, but sharpened with willpower—like Atharv… and like himself.
"Your right flank's slipping," Bhairav said calmly, parrying a beast's claw with one divine hand while blasting another back with a burst of light.
"I know," the man grunted, slashing through a winged demon mid-sentence. "I told you this armor wasn't finished."
"And I told you not to dive into a demonic siege half-asleep," Bhairav replied, chuckling under his breath. "You humans always rush into war with fire in your veins but no map in your head."
"Spoken like someone who hasn't bled."
Bhairav raised an eyebrow, smiled faintly, then caught a giant hammer in his jaws before it could hit the man. "Oh, I bleed. Just not for every fool with a title."
The man laughed, then ducked under a massive serpent-beast's tail and cut it clean in half.
"You still with me, serpent king?"
"Always," Bhairav said. "I made a promise to fight beside you, didn't I?"
Together, they moved like a storm—two against hundreds. Demonic beasts, twisted in form and power, rose from the ground like nightmares. But Bhairav burned through them with divine fire, while the warrior cut through their flesh with a blade forged in starlight.
Arsh watched, stunned.
"Why do I keep seeing these visions?" he thought. "Who is that man? Why does it feel like… like I'm standing inside my own memory?"
And then—
A voice echoed in the space around him.
Not from Bhairav. Not from the man.
But from something older. Deeper. Watching.
"You see these memories… because they are echoes of your soul."
Arsh turned—no one was there.
"You are not just Arsh of this world. You were born in a mirrored universe—one that reflected the struggles of Atharv's realm. But when balance was lost… your soul was pulled across dimensions. You were sent here."
"But why do I see him?" Arsh asked aloud. "Why does Atharv appear in my dreams? Why do I feel like I'm walking his path?"
The voice replied, soft as wind but heavy as fate.
"Because he is your anchor to this world. Your soul… and his… are bound by purpose. Your world fell to silence. His fell to fire. And now, both of you walk toward the same end—guided by memory, by instinct, and by destiny."
"You are not just his ally."
"You are the mirror… of what he could become."
"And he… is the shadow of what you once were."
The battlefield shifted suddenly.
The man with the glowing blade paused, panting. Bhairav stood behind him, shielding him from a rain of shadow-arrows.
"You know this won't end well," Bhairav said gently.
"I know," the man replied.
"You'll fall."
"I've fallen before. But someone will rise in my place."
He looked up—directly at Arsh.
Though he wasn't truly there, Arsh felt the man's gaze pierce him.
As if… he knew Arsh was watching.
"The future… is yours now," the man whispered.
And then—
Everything shattered like glass.
Arsh jolted awake, gasping.
His body ached. The ground was cold. The forest… real again.
But his eyes burned with new clarity.
He remembered.
And someone… was waiting for him to act.
Arsh gasped as his eyes shot open.
The forest air rushed into his lungs like fire. His body, moments ago bruised and broken, now surged with sudden energy. The pain in his chest was gone. The blood along his side dried instantly, steam rising from his wounds as cursed energy healed his flesh with unnatural speed.
The snake aura returned—but it was different.
It wasn't calm anymore.
It writhed with power, glowing bright gold and black, pulsing around him like a storm ready to devour everything in its path.
The warrior—still breathing heavily from their earlier clash—stepped back, eyes narrowing. "You… that energy… That's not just healing."
Arsh stood slowly, his body glowing with the faint, ethereal shimmer of the man he had seen in the vision—every movement fluid, graceful, and deadly. His eyes were vacant, focused… otherworldly.
And then—he moved.
Fast.
Too fast.
He was in front of the man in less than a breath, fist driving toward his face. The warrior barely blocked in time, skidding back as the ground behind him cracked like dry bone. Arsh didn't stop. He was fighting like the man from his memory now—every strike sharp, brutal, and efficient.
"You're mimicking him," the warrior muttered mid-fight, parrying another strike. "That man you saw… he's guiding your body now, isn't he?"
But Arsh didn't answer.
His snake aura roared to life, splitting into five spectral heads, each one lunging independently with snapping jaws. The warrior jumped into the air, flipping onto a branch, but the heads followed, destroying the tree beneath him in a violent blast of cursed energy.
The forest trembled.
Animals scattered. Trees fell.
"You're going to destroy the whole damn place!" the warrior shouted.
Then—something snapped.
Arsh's head jerked slightly.
His body tensed… and then relaxed, unnaturally.
His glowing aura dimmed to black and red. The snake no longer hissed—it stared, silent, with cold, dead eyes.
A smile slowly spread across Arsh's face. Not one of joy. But one of hunger.
"…Finally awake," the voice that came from Arsh said—but it wasn't his voice.
The warrior's eyes widened. "No…"
"Yes," the new voice chuckled. "So long, trapped in that weak little mind. Watching him run around like a hero."
The corrupted snake aura slithered outward, curling through the ground like poisonous mist.
"Now I fight."
The dark personality moved with monstrous power. One punch shattered boulders, another crushed the trees behind the warrior as he barely dodged. The forest burned. The skies darkened. Birds fled. Even the cursed energy in the air trembled under the pressure.
The warrior—trained as he was—couldn't keep up.
He was thrown backward, crashing through branches, coughing blood. His eyes narrowed in disbelief.
"What… are you?" he whispered.
The dark Arsh grinned wider. "A fragment. A buried soul. A mirror of a mirror. I was born from the cracks in his mind when he crossed between worlds."
He walked slowly, the ground blackening beneath each step.
"And now, I'm free."
He raised his hand. The snake aura transformed into a jagged spear, cursed symbols dancing along its edge.
The warrior prepared for the final strike.
But then—a shadow flashed behind Arsh.
A new figure appeared from nowhere—fast, silent, calculated.
THWACK!
A solid strike hit the back of Arsh's neck with surgical precision.
His body stiffened… and collapsed to the ground.
The snake aura vanished with a hiss, dispersing into smoke.
Silence returned to the forest.
The warrior gasped, staring at the man who had just saved him.
The new figure stood tall, face partially hidden under a dark hood, gloved hands still crackling with sealed energy. His voice was dry, intelligent, and carried a strange familiarity—as if he belonged in places beyond this world.
He looked down at Arsh's unconscious body and muttered:
"So this is that personality… Huh. Long time no research."
He smiled faintly.
"Guess it's time to dig up some old files."
[End of Chapter 65]