"How could I have missed this..." Spes wondered, retracting his spiritual sense just as he grasped the entire shape of the thing.
It was like a tiny seed, constantly rotating, emitting mysterious vibrations—something that couldn't be sensed without the use of spiritual sense.
"Either my spiritual sense is too weak, or there's something special about the voice. Or maybe... it's just too strong."
"How is this even supposed to help us with the fragmented tome pages in your mind?" Spes asked the distorted voice.
"That thing... I have a feeling that if I take control of it, I'll be able to do something about the tome fragments."
"Will it be safe?" Spes frowned. What if the two of them ended up getting hurt over a mere hunch?
"I don't know... But either we do it my way or your way."
Spes fell silent, weighing the pros and cons. The voice had claimed his method would be faster, while Spes's path would clearly take much longer. Going through 369 pages of complex magical theory was no easy task. The common enemy was time—and risk.
With the voice's method, things would move quickly, but uncertainty loomed. Spes's way, on the other hand, would be slow, but relatively safe.
"There is no pursuit of power without its risks," the distorted voice said, catching Spes's train of thought.
After a moment of silence, Spes sighed deeply and slapped his face with both hands, his eyes brimming with resolve.
"Alright—tell me what to do!"
"The seed in your head... I want to take complete control of it to uncover the secrets it's hiding. But to do that, both of us need to fully channel our spiritual senses and break a hole through its defenses—enough for me to get inside."
"And what happens once you're in the seed?" Spes asked. The voice was being frustratingly vague.
"I don't know."
"Are you sure you want to do this? You might never come back. You could disappear entirely."
"Spes... I exist inside you, in this empty space, with nothing to do but mend my broken soul. We both know this isn't truly living," the voice said grimly, explaining why the seed mattered so much.
"D-Do you have a name?" Spes asked, realizing he had never bothered to ask.
"No…"
"I'll give you one. Who better to do it than yourself?" Spes smiled, racking his brain for a name.
"Liber…" the distorted voice whispered, just as Spes was about to speak.
"Liber?"
"Freedom. That's what we both seek."
"..." Spes went silent, reflecting on the word. He had never truly thought about freedom before, but the moment the voice mentioned it, something stirred inside him. His heart ached at the thought of finally being free—free from the burdens that weighed him down, from the chains that bound his body and mind.
There was still the matter of his quest to the East, where he'd been ordered to retrieve an artifact to save the Kingdom. And even if he succeeded, he would still need to find another artifact—by luck alone—to begin the ritual. And on top of that, he had to become stronger, just to survive the journey.
"Promise me, Spes. Promise me you'll never give up on yourself… if I fail." The voice's tone softened with sadness, knowing all too well the burden Spes carried.
"I... I promise." Spes nodded, feeling overwhelmed at the thought of losing a part of himself.
"Then let's do this," the voice said resolutely, preparing his Seeing Sense.
"Liber?" Spes called his name for the first time, gathering his spiritual sense.
"If you make it through this unscathed… I promise I'll find a way for you to walk on your own two feet."
Liber didn't respond in words. Instead, he chuckled, then shouted with fierce resolve, "Follow my lead!"
Together, they merged their spiritual senses and launched a concentrated attack on the seed. With a powerful, precise blow, they halted the seed's vibration and tore a hole through its defenses.
Spes screamed as a searing pain shot through his skull. He collapsed to the floor, losing consciousness as his spiritual sense snapped back into his body.
Unlike him, Liber's Seeing Sense shot forward through the gap, diving into the unknown just as the hole began to close behind him.