Dylan hurried to grab another gem, but the moment he felt something clutch his heart—as if twisting it—a sharp pain made him grit his teeth, doubling over with a harsh groan.
"Dylan… what did you do!?" the young elf woman cried, springing to her feet and rushing toward him.
He felt like his eyes were about to burst from their sockets, dark veins snaking all over his body as if they were going to explode. His breath came in ragged gasps, and—
She quickly pressed both hands against his back, and though he had no idea how, the pain slowly began to fade. It was still agonizing, but manageable now.
"I told you to be careful. You didn't just absorb the soul fragments—you took in some of the negative energy too. You could've died, you know?"
Dylan asked through a fit of coughing, the whites of his eyes already laced with red veins, yet his gray pupils remained sharp.
"What was that just now? What did you do?"
She looked down at her hands, hesitating for a moment before letting her mouth speak on its own.
"It's a kind of power tied to my bloodline. It helps stabilize spiritual essence. My mother used to use it on me when I failed absorption—just like I did for you." She said it plainly, without holding back.
"So then… what exactly happened?" Dylan pressed, his hand hovering nervously near another gem.
"I'd say you look better on the outside, but inside? Total chaos. You managed to absorb the spiritual essence, but it mixed with soul essence and negative energy. Those three together will slowly destroy your soul and body."
Frowning, both wary and confused, Dylan was torn between a tangle of emotions. He opened his mouth, but no words came out.
"This was only your first gem," she added. "I don't think it'll be too hard to expel them. The pathways you opened to let the essence in can be used in reverse. That's the second step. It's just… you took in more than expected."
"So there was nothing to be afraid of?" Dylan said tensely.
"Yes… and no. You'll have to find the paths on your own. And you must be careful not to damage the vessels or let the essence flow recklessly through your body. If you do, you'll end up hurting both your soul and your flesh."
Right then, Dylan felt an unbearable itch gnawing at his back, the base of his skull, and his lower abdomen—like thousands of needles were being violently driven into him.
"We have to start. Now," he said, voice tight. "It's unbearable."
Elisa replied with a firm tone, "Then you'd better learn to bear it. One mistake could be fatal. And don't even think about speeding up the essence to push it out. That's how you'll shred your own pathways."
He nodded, teeth clenched, his breathing ragged. His back trembled slightly, and his fingers clawed at the ground as if trying to anchor himself.
Elisa crouched in front of him, watching his tense expression.
"Close your eyes," she said softly. "Focus only on your breath. You have to visualize the essence currents in your body, like a network… veins, pathways. Feel them."
Dylan obeyed, reluctantly. The inside of his body felt like a battlefield. Currents of energy clashed, jostled, rumbled. He tried to breathe more slowly, to calm the chaos. And little by little, he began to distinguish… lines. Thin, almost translucent, winding through the darkness of his mind.
"I see… filaments…" he murmured. "Some pulse gently… others… don't. They're vibrating erratically."
"Those are the ones contaminated by negative energy. You need to isolate them, Dylan. Picture them as intruders, foreign roots. Push them away with the flow of your will."
A cold sweat ran down his neck. He tried. A first impulse. The dark filaments barely moved, then recoiled, as if annoyed.
"They're resisting," he growled. "They're clinging."
"That's normal. Use your essence like a stream of water, not a blade. No brute force. Flow around them, gently press them toward a natural exit—your breath, your skin, or your channels, if you can manage that."
The pain spiked briefly, like a final protest… then a first dark fragment seemed to peel away, and Dylan felt part of his back lighten. A thin wisp of dark smoke escaped his skin, as if expelled by an invisible breath.
He flinched.
"I… did it work?" he asked, incredulous.
Elisa gave a faint smile. "A tiny bit, yes. But it's a good start. Keep going, gently. You're closer to succeeding than you think."
He closed his eyes again. And this time, he went even slower.
Thus, that grueling day that had seemed endless had, in the end, found its own conclusion.
Dylan and Elisa sat facing each other, the tension between them replaced by a quiet, shared exhaustion.
Maggie had taken it upon himself to keep watch nearby. His brown eyes remained cold, alert to every movement in the shadows — yet deep down, something else stirred. A part of him rarely shown. Something softer, quieter, hidden beneath layers of discipline and silence.
The camp was silent now. Save for the occasional crackle of embers or a whisper of wind sweeping through the trees.