Taming the Protagonist

Volume 2

Chapter 99 : Mother

Hum, hum, hum~

Today, with bright sunshine, Elnilisa tended the flowerbeds in the mansion’s west courtyard.

Her whimsical, cheerful tune showed Lady Hydra was in a good mood.

The thriving, vibrant flowers confirmed it.

Though she knew I’d be away today and couldn’t join her, she wasn’t upset.

Yesterday’s events showed her I genuinely wanted to be kind.

For Elnilisa, few things were better news.

“Since I’ve already delayed him a day… I shouldn’t nag more,” she said, stroking tender petals with a smug, knowing smile.

As a mother, she was a self-taught genius.

“But he should be back tonight. What should I get Asa…” she mused.

“Should I ask Saville… Oh, Saville’s gone. I’ll go myself.”

She planned to roam Hydra City, collecting gifts and well-wishes from residents.

Recalling my smile yesterday, Elnilisa thought there was no better gift.

As she eagerly prepared to finish tending the flowers and set out, a gentle voice came from behind: “Mother, good morning.”

“Hm?” Elnilisa turned, surprised, looking at my smiling face, puzzled.

“Asa, don’t you have to continue yesterday’s work?”

“No,” I shook my head. “I’ll wait until Father returns from the Zero Point Labyrinth.”

She paused, then grinned teasingly.

Hands behind her back, she leaned forward, circling me, saying curiously: “Oh, isn’t this our little Asa who wasn’t worried about Daddy at all?”

Her eyes twinkled with mirth as she orbited me, marveling: “Now you won’t even work, waiting for Daddy to come back?”

My gaze drifted past her to the flowers, as if to change the subject: “Mother… as impressive as ever.”

Her flattery pleased her more than teasing me.

Following my gaze to her perfectly tended flowers, she raised her chin proudly: “Of course. Pretty, right?”

“Pretty, yes,” I tilted my head. “But Mother’s [Nature] element… it’s not much help to Father in the Zero Point Labyrinth, is it?”

She froze for two seconds, then grabbed my cheeks, annoyed: “What’s that supposed to mean? Are you calling me a vase? If your dad didn’t need an anchor, I wouldn’t be stuck here, leaving you alone in this big house!”

She huffed, threatening, and to prove herself, raised a hand.

The ground rumbled, soft soil rising, shaping, solidifying into a gleaming, hard stone colossus, lifting the arms-crossed Elnilisa in its palm.

“Nature’s power is incredible! Don’t think I just play with flowers all day.”

I stepped forward silently, touching the stone colossus.

I felt its near-indestructible connection to the earth.

Mother was right; nature’s power wasn’t to be underestimated, but…

At an angle she couldn’t see, my eyes churned with twisted, trembling ferocity.

But it wasn’t enough.

“Doesn’t Mother have any stronger spells?” I, controlling myself, asked, looking up.

“You little…” Elnilisa frowned slightly. “Why so odd, asking me this suddenly?”

Her motherly instincts sensed something off, but my flawless demeanor left her unable to pinpoint it.

I paused, then answered gently: “Because… Your words yesterday made me realize how vital an exceptional Head of Soul is.”

“So I want to learn from you what qualities an outstanding Head of Soul needs.”

Her eyes lit up, and she laughed, overjoyed: “Why didn’t you say so? Just a small matter… hehe, Asa’s so sweet!”

Jumping from the colossus’s palm, she let it revert to soil, the torn ground and grass restoring as if time reversed.

Thrilled that her son recognized her as a mother, Elnilisa was elated.

She took my hand, leading me to the flowerbed, clearing her throat professionally, trying to muster some dignity.

“You know the role of the Head of Soul, don’t you, Asa?”

I nodded: “Among my eight Contract Heads, the one who bears the brunt of the world’s information… the abyss’s corruption.”

“Right! Though every Contract Head shares this to some extent, your mommy and your future Head of Soul bear more than the other seven combined. We’re unique!”

Elnilisa beamed with pride, her gentle eyes showing her duty and strength as Head of Soul.

Neither she nor Flamel showed signs of madness, which was why I believed Father would be the longest-lived Hydra, living at least thirty more years.

“So the primary requirement is—an absolutely powerful soul,” she said, raising a finger seriously. “Even with the Head of Soul’s gift of enhanced soul strength, the chosen must already have a rare, powerful soul.”

I understood: “Only then can they bear the corruption for me.”

“Exactly. Next is character. The abyss’s corruption drives extreme emotions, so besides a strong soul, they must have an excellent character—like me!” she said, patting her chest confidently.

“Of course, there’s no other woman as great as me. But even if not perfect, they must be stable, calm, resilient, not easily swayed by the abyss.”

“Hm… and then?”

“Then?” she tilted her head. “That’s it. The stronger these qualities, the better suited they are for the Head of Soul.”

I looked at the lawn, asking evenly: “No requirements for power?”

“The Head of Soul isn’t a fighter! That’s for the Head of Strength or Head of Magic,” she said, poking my head, dropping her playful act for serious teaching. “You don’t want all eight heads built for fighting, do you? Hydras are great because their abilities cover everything.”

Though she said this, I didn’t relent, holding her hand: “But the soul is a transcendent foundation. A strong soul means strong power, doesn’t it?”

“That’s because I focus on resisting the abyss’s corruption,” she pouted, swinging her fists.

“Otherwise, I could take on Laurence and the others single-handedly!”

“Really?”

“Er… not now,” she admitted.

“Could you handle four or five fifth-tier transcendents at once?”

“I told you, I’m not a fighter!” she said, embarrassed, bopping my head. “Don’t use fighter standards for your Head of Soul, got it?”

Facing her constant care, I replied gently: “I understand, Mother.”

After strolling a bit, I asked: “As the strongest Head of Soul, can you contact Father even in the Zero Point Labyrinth’s depths?”

The Head of Soul’s soul forms a uniquely tight bond with the Hydra’s, almost fused, to perfectly share the burden.

Even if the Head of Soul dies, the fused part remains, preserving the Hydra’s sanity to the fullest.

This intimate, indescribable bond allows a connection beyond transcendent understanding.

“Well…” Elnilisa closed her eyes, then shook her head.

“Last night, I could exchange a word or two. Now, I can only faintly sense Mel’s existence.”

“What’s that guy doing so far away?” she said, annoyed. “If he keeps running off after this, I’ll beat him!”

“Hm… it must be important to Father.”

“More important than me and you? Ignoring his wife and son, what a jerk!” she huffed, then looked at me seriously. “Don’t be like your dad, Asa. Be gentle with girls, okay?”

“I will, Mother.”

“Good boy~”

After some chatter, I told her I wanted to visit Flamel’s study.

Knowing my nature, she casually let me go.

Once away from the flowerbed, I struggled to maintain my expression, not wanting passing servants to see my twisted face.

It wasn’t enough…

The young Hydra murmured in his heart: Telling Mother in advance, letting her face it, won’t do either.

Since seeing that future last night, he hadn’t closed his eyes for a single moment, rejecting one plan after another.

At first, the initial thought that flashed through Anselm’s mind was—escape, flee to a place no one knew, even to the Zero Point Labyrinth, it didn’t matter.

But within seconds, that idea was discarded.

Because… the assassins’ preparations were too thorough.

Flamel’s order for the Contract Heads to search for materials was conducted in secret, yet not only did they know about it, they even knew when Flamel would pull all the Contract Heads away, gathering them in the Zero Point Labyrinth.

And the location they chose for the assassination was none other than the flower sea space Flamel had specially created for Elnilisa!

You must understand, although Hydra was nominally “enfeoffed” by the Emperor, possessing its own territory within the Empire, the two were never in a subordinate relationship.

The aura of domination accumulated by Hydra over a thousand years in its domain had already formed a kind of field, one that even the Emperor couldn’t easily peer into.

Yet these people could breach Hydra’s domain, even see through a secret space known only to their family of three.

This meant… no matter where he fled, it was useless.

The second thought was to seek protection.

Whose protection? Naturally, only the Emperor’s.

But this idea, too, was quickly dismissed.

In a world with only four divine species… who could achieve such a feat?

Who could carry out something so absolute?

Though the Emperor ostensibly had no conflict with Hydra—on the contrary, she relied on Hydra, burning and absorbing vast amounts of world information to ascend to the seventh tier—who could say what Ephithand, now increasingly deranged and mad, was truly thinking?

That lunatic could do anything, and it wouldn’t be surprising!

Then came his earlier probing of Elnilisa—hoping that by warning her in advance, his mother could prepare, be ready, and face the five fifth-tier transcendents head-on.

But the truth proved… those five assassins, capable of nearly instantly killing Elnilisa in two seconds, were not something Elnilisa, who wasn’t skilled in combat, could handle even with preparation.

Calling other fifth-tier transcendents for help was an even worse strategy.

Once the snake was startled, the predetermined timing would become uncertain.

Before Flamel returned, they could launch the assassination at any moment, and Anselm would lose his only advantage.

Even using the deep connection with Hydra’s soul through the Head of Soul to summon Flamel back was a futile hope—his father… was simply too far gone.

Bang!

Slamming the door shut and locking it tightly, Anselm collapsed, trembling all over, clutching his head, muttering faintly with a hint of madness:

“There’s still a way… there’s still a way… there must be a way… Anselm… think fast… think fast!”

“Think fast!”

The boy roared in his childish voice, collapsing into a curled-up heap on the floor, his ten fingers digging fiercely into his cheeks, leaving vivid, bloody scratches that evoked pity.

Yet, paired with his frenzied, crazed eyes, they inspired only dread.

“Mother… Mother…”

“There must be another way, I must be able to protect Mother… I must…”

“I can’t escape, I can’t seek protection, I can’t wait for Father, and Mother isn’t their match… ha… ha…”

His breathing grew heavier, his childish voice beginning to distort, twisting into… an overlapping sound, as if emerging from the throat of some grotesquely constructed monster.

Power.

The word surfaced in the boy’s mind.

Yes… power.

If nothing else could be done, only direct confrontation remained.

If Mother couldn’t resist them, then only I…

Only I can.

If I have power, I can protect Mother.

He scrambled to his feet in a panic, hands and feet working together, and began rummaging chaotically through the bookshelves Flamel had meticulously organized, tossing tomes that could make fifth-tier transcendents bleed rivers onto the floor.

“As long as I have… power.”

Muttering as if possessed, he whispered, “I can… I am Hydra, I am a born divine being… even without inheriting Father’s power, even if just fifth-tier… even without the Contract Heads, I can…”

At that moment, a ripple appeared in the boy’s eyes.

A pure black ripple, never before seen in his clear sea-blue eyes, like an abyss.

“I can…”

He let out a low, almost savage roar:

“Kill them all!”

Divine species are born at the sixth tier, their innate destiny.

What they receive from their forebears is merely pure power to instantly reach their peak.

If he could find a way to fill himself with fifth-tier power, to become that strong, no matter the cost, no matter the sacrifice… as long as he could achieve it, Mother could be saved!

No matter… what it took!

And the more he obsessively craved that purest power, that purest… strength, the black ripples in his eyes condensed into an even purer black dye, slowly, bit by bit, staining, swallowing, and erasing the enchanting sea-blue hue.

“Found it… found it!”

Having roamed Flamel’s study countless times and flipped through its books endlessly, Anselm immediately found what he needed most.

“A formation to increase the absorption efficiency of ether crystals by ten to a hundred times, simple to construct, I can create it,” Anselm murmured with a trembling voice, “…and with the family’s thousand-year stockpile of ether crystals!”

“…No, still not enough, there’s more.”

He snapped the book shut, as if sensing something, and rushed to the mirror in the study.

In the mirror, the boy saw his eyes—eyes were writhing, almost living… black hues pulsed.

Yet in that moment, Anselm felt no terror, no fear.

He felt only pure peace.

“Spiritual Essence…”

Anselm whispered dreamily, reaching out to touch his reflection’s eyes in the mirror.

“Yes, my Spiritual Essence, my… power.”

Standing at the pinnacle of magical beasts, backed by the abyss, Hydra possessed an utterly unreasonable trait in the rare and unique power of Spiritual Essence.

—They could, within a certain range of their heartfelt desires, freely choose a type of Spiritual Essence, even determine its specific effects to an extent.

Anselm’s father, Flamel, had chosen a Spiritual Essence tied to alchemy, achieving his greatness today, while Anselm, until now, had yet to choose his own.

Looking at that ominous, terrifying black that seemed to consume everything, even himself, he murmured with such relief:

“Not choosing a Spiritual Essence… was the best decision.”

For Hydra, choosing a Spiritual Essence was a momentous decision, shaping their future growth.

Though the Head of Soul granted a second chance to choose, the initial choice typically defined Hydra’s path.

At ten years old, Anselm had naturally not yet chosen his direction.

Full of wonder and curiosity about the world, shaped by the vast knowledge from that other world, he had his own perspectives and opinions.

Choosing a Spiritual Essence was an immensely significant matter to him.

And now, young Anselm believed this was undoubtedly the most correct choice of his life.

“I… feel you…”

One hand touched his reflection’s eyes in the mirror, the other caressed his own eyeball, his index finger sinking directly into the black that nearly engulfed his entire eye.

“Power…”

He felt no fear, no panic, no negative emotions, only serene happiness as he murmured:

“As long as you give me… the power to protect Mother.”

“No matter the cost.”

***

In Anselm’s room, Elnilisa, having finished her arrangements, clapped her hands with a smug smile.

“Done! Hmph, Anselm will be so touched he’ll throw himself into my arms crying when he sees this!”

Two days ago, Anselm had told Elnilisa he was going to patrol the southern end of the territory again.

Though Elnilisa found it odd—he’d just said he’d wait for Flamel’s return before leaving, and now he wanted to go again—it seemed strange, but she didn’t dwell on it.

[Asa’s always been impatient, hasn’t he?]

This sudden thought dispelled her doubts as she pondered Anselm’s inconsistency.

Of course, Elnilisa took safety precautions seriously.

Though no one in this world would dare attack a Hydra, she wasn’t careless enough to let Anselm wander alone.

Two days passed, and Elnilisa kept busy.

Following her earlier idea, she gathered a pile of gifts, cards, and more for Anselm in Hydra City.

Once word spread, gifts piled up like a small mountain overnight at the Hydra Mansion’s entrance.

Elnilisa diligently sorted through them, selecting the most heartfelt and exquisite gifts, carefully arranging them in Anselm’s bedroom—from the floor to the walls, from the walls to the ceiling, all adorned or stacked with delicate presents.

She even meticulously cut and assembled blessings and thanks for Anselm into a colorful, large heart placed at his bedside.

Seeing the varied handwriting and content, yet the same sincere emotions, Elnilisa felt moved herself.

Every decoration in the room, every word of blessing and gratitude, was crafted by Elnilisa over these two days, purely by hand, without using any transcendent power.

At the moment of completion, she felt immense satisfaction—not just from knowing Anselm would be delighted, but from seeing her son, at such a young age, earn such recognition and support, achieving so much.

It was the purest, happiest satisfaction of a mother.

“Asa should be back soon, hehe… I wonder how happy he’ll be when he sees this!”

After one last deeply satisfied glance around the room, Elnilisa left, content.

But as she closed the door, her eyes suddenly lit up—she sensed Anselm’s presence, that oh-so-familiar aura…

“…Huh?”

In an instant, Elnilisa’s expression froze.

“Asa…”

Her demeanor shifted and her figure vanished from the corridor, reappearing by leaping out of a potted plant at the teleportation room’s entrance.

Without even knocking, she pushed the door open and entered.

“Asa, what’s wrong? You—”

The anxious Elnilisa froze the moment she saw Anselm.

“What’s wrong, Mother?”

The boy tilted his head, smiling gently. “It’s only been two days, and you miss me that much?”

The same clothes as when he left, the same face, the same demeanor—nothing seemed to have changed.

Those sea-blue eyes still held that clear, enchanting gentleness.

It was as if, in that fleeting moment when Anselm returned through the teleportation array, the cold, terrifying, all-consuming black she’d sensed—so familiar yet so dreadful—was all an illusion.

No… something’s wrong!

Even without detecting any anomaly, a mother’s intuition drove Elnilisa to stride quickly to Anselm.

She knelt, cradling his face in her hands, and asked in a soft, soft voice:

“Asa, what’s really wrong?”

“What’s wrong?”

Anselm looked at his mother, puzzled. “I’m fine, Mother. What’s wrong with you?”

“No…” Elnilisa’s grip on Anselm’s cheeks tightened slightly. “Your aura, just for a moment… it was clearly the aura of the abyss!”

“You haven’t formed a Contract Head, you’re still young—how could you… how could you have such a strong abyssal aura!”

“Mother.”

Anselm gently touched Elnilisa’s cheek in return. “Are you too worried about Father? Is the pressure making you imagine things—”

“Asa!”

The woman shouted angrily, “Don’t try to deceive me! I’ve told you countless times, I’m your mother! You’ll never fool me in your lifetime!”

She stared intensely, unwaveringly, into Anselm’s eyes, her voice shifting from anger to a powerless plea:

“Tell Mommy what happened. Mommy will help you, no matter the problem, Mommy can fix it.”

But her son, so familiar yet so strange, only looked at her and smiled.

“It’s okay, Mother,” the boy murmured, dazed and ethereal. “It’s all fine now, it won’t matter anymore…”

Yet in the next instant, he snapped back, as if unaware of what he’d just shown or said, smiling as he continued:

“Let’s not talk about this now, Mother. I want to see the flowers.”

“…”

She finally realized what felt so off.

It was instability—her son… was extremely unstable.

Like a vessel riddled with cracks, on the verge of shattering.

Elnilisa’s lips trembled, but after a moment’s silence, she took the boy’s hand and softly replied:

“Okay, Mommy will take you to see the flowers.”

On the way to their family’s secret flower sea space, Elnilisa kept trying to pour her power into Anselm’s body.

But no matter how much she did, how hard she tried, she only felt… that Anselm’s body harbored an insatiable, all-accepting monster.

When Elnilisa brought Anselm to the flower sea, she immediately pressed him down.

Every flower, every blade of grass in the sea seemed to come alive, emitting a silent yet awe-inspiring aura.

The power of nature, the power of life, swirled around Elnilisa’s body and around Anselm, lying in the flowerbed.

“Asa, don’t move, let me try to handle your current…”

“Mother.”

The boy spoke softly, gently, placing his hand on the woman’s deeply anxious face: “Don’t worry, I’m fine, I’m perfectly okay.”

He shifted his body, resting his head on Elnilisa’s lap, quietly closing his eyes.

“Let me rest for a bit, that’s all I need.”

“…”

Looking at her child, who had never shown such serene calmness before her, Elnilisa could only pause her efforts, her trembling hand gently touching Anselm’s forehead.

She could no longer… discern what was happening to Anselm.

That endlessly profound, terrifying aura… if it held even a sliver of hostility toward her, it could likely annihilate her in an instant.

Yet, that aura was rapidly retracting, withdrawing into the deepest recesses, so even she, so close to him, could no longer detect the slightest issue.

“Asa…”

Elnilisa was gripped by such fear, a fear she had never shown so vividly before Anselm, she who was always cheerful and lively.

“What… happened? How could you, why… these past two days, what did you go out to do?”

The boy, eyes closed, lying peacefully on his mother’s lap, did not answer.

After what felt like an eternity of silence, he finally said: “To do the right thing, Mother.”

“What right thing! You… look at what you’ve done to yourself!”

“Mother, I’ve always been so afraid.”

Anselm still didn’t answer her question, seemingly sinking back into that unstable state, murmuring dreamily, deliriously: “Afraid of why I exist, afraid my life has no meaning, afraid I can’t change anything, even afraid of the things I’ve seen.”

The boy’s body gradually curled up, pressing closer to Elnilisa’s.

“I’m so scared, Mother.”

Only in this moment, not when giving grand speeches in restaurants, not when handling affairs in the office, not when forcing himself to never show weakness.

Only when resting on his mother’s lap, in this moment, did he seem like an ordinary child.

Elnilisa stared in shock at her child, at the vulnerability and fear he unconsciously revealed, her eyes first blank, then her entire being—lips, fingertips, body, and soul—trembling uncontrollably.

Her lips quivered, her choked throat unable to produce any sound, overwhelmed by an indescribable, heart-wrenching sorrow, allowing her only to stroke the boy’s forehead with trembling fingers, unable to make any larger gesture.

The boy seemed to sense his mother’s emotions; he reached out, grasping her trembling, uncontrollable hand, pressing it against his cheek.

“Don’t worry about me, Mother.”

Like a young beast determined to leave its nest, he gently nuzzled Elnilisa’s palm with affection.

“I’ve found my purpose, I’m not afraid anymore, truly.”

“If the value of those memories was all for that moment, if everything I’ve experienced in these ten years was for this very instant, if all I’ve sacrificed could bring about this fleeting change—”

The boy opened his eyes, his black-immersed pupils brimming with tears.

Yet he smiled as he said:

“Then it was all worth it, Mother.”

In that instant, the sky above the flower field shattered abruptly, and in that fleeting, uncapturable moment, five figures radiating powerful auras emerged from the broken space.

They had already gathered terrifying killing intent, the mere ripple of their amassed power causing the flowers and grass in the field to dissolve on their own.

But in the moment Elnilisa turned her head, as they were about to strike—

The monster that had immersed itself in the abyss awoke.

Pure, almost living blackness surged from Elnilisa’s embrace in all directions, flooding the entire space, a shadow like mud yet alive, surpassing even their comprehension, their thoughts, covering everything in an instant.

Then, Elnilisa felt herself being blasted away.

Because where her son had lain on her lap, an enormous, indescribable mass of “flesh,” no longer recognizable as a living thing, twisted and distorted, howled in agony as it rapidly expanded.

Covered in dense black scales, yet writhing with endless black tendrils resembling insects or tentacles, each tendril exuded a terror so great that a single glance could shatter the soul of an ordinary transcendent.

No one could find a mouth on this grotesquely twisted mass, yet it roared with a voice as if nine sounds overlapped in furious bellows:

“Kill them all… kill them all…”

“Kill… you all!”

It was destruction beyond words.

Time, space, energy, order… everything was covered in blackness, annihilated, reduced to nothingness.

The five fifth-tier transcendents didn’t even have time to understand what was happening, didn’t know what occurred, before they were ground into pure dregs by that distorted flesh… no, not even dregs, nothing remained, they became non-existent.

But the destruction never stopped; the monster unconditionally ravaged everything around it, even when destruction itself became meaningless, stubbornly, maniacally pouring out its fury, spreading its existence, that deep blackness, to even farther domains.

Yet amidst this endless destruction, at the center, cradled and protected by its massive, deformed body, one person remained.

She was unharmed, untouched even by a single hair in this extreme devastation.

When Elnilisa came to her senses, nothing remained, only pure, boundless blackness.

“Asa… Asa!”

The woman, protected by that twisted flesh, broke down, screaming hoarsely: “Asa! Don’t do this… stop… Asa!”

“…Mo-ther?”

The monster, having destroyed everything, forgotten everything, paused at the sound of her voice.

It slowly coiled its body, lowering what seemed to be its “head,” gently rubbing against her with its dense, massive scales, as tenderly as if stroking her cheek with a hand.

“It’s okay now, it’s okay… Mother.”

Its voice, though eerily layered nine times, was still… the voice of a child.

“I will protect you, Mother… I will protect you…”

“Protect… Mother.”

It seemed to have forgotten everything, even itself.

But it never forgot the reason and purpose for becoming a monster.

—This was a resolve even the abyss could not take.

“…”

Elnilisa, mouth agape, tears flooding her face, wetting her cheeks and the dense, twisted scales.

Her son… seemed lost forever.

Devoured by the abyss, nothing remained.

Like all Hydras who reached their end, fully maddened, he had become the abyss incarnate, the purest vessel of destruction.

Elnilisa didn’t know much—she didn’t know why someone would come to kill her, why Anselm knew of it, or what his earlier words meant.

But now, she understood Anselm’s problem, the source of his power.

“Spiritual Essence…”

The tear-streaked woman embraced the massive head she could barely hold, listening to its intermittent murmurs of “protect Mother,” choking as she whispered:

“To protect me, you sought power… from the abyss?”

Hydra was already inseparable from the abyss, but Anselm’s chosen Spiritual Essence… was to immerse himself entirely within it.

“Silly child… silly child… how could such salvation possibly save me?”

Elnilisa stopped crying, stopped choking, for she knew her child endured pain a thousand, a million times greater than hers.

But if her child bore such immense suffering, a mother witnessing it would always endure a pain one level higher.

“Asa… listen to me, Asa.”

No longer crying, Elnilisa closed her eyes, embracing the massive head, speaking softly:

“I’m so sorry. I said you could never deceive me, yet I never noticed what you were enduring.”

“I’m so sorry. It was I who should have protected you, yet I let you suffer like this.”

Her body began to emit faint glimmers, and at the same time, in the deepest reaches of the Zero Point Labyrinth, Flamel, surrounded by Contract Heads, laughing maniacally in joy, suddenly froze.

Then, as if crazed, he rushed back the way he came.

“I wanted to watch you grow, see you marry a girl you love, have children, and happily tell me I’m the best mother in the world.”

“But I can’t do that anymore. I’m sorry, Asa, I’m a failure as a mother.”

Is the abyss’s erosion irreversible?

Not necessarily… Spiritual Essence is the deepest part of the holder’s soul, the foundation of their transcendence, and as power, it is meant to be controlled, not to destroy its wielder.

Before, despite his instability, Anselm could still somewhat control that power.

So, if he could be freed from this state, suppressed and the abyss’s erosion on his soul cleansed, there was a chance he could return to normal.

And when it came to purging the abyss’s influence on a soul…

No one was more adept than the Head of Soul.

“So, in the end, let me do… what a mother should do, okay?”

“…Mother?”

The monster, confused and panicked, called out to her: “Mother… Mother?”

“Don’t be afraid, Asa,” Elnilisa gently stroked the monster’s head. “Even if I can’t be with you anymore, don’t be afraid.”

“You’ll meet others who care for you, cherish you, love you, as I do, and you must treat them with the same care, cherish them, love them.”

Her form began to dissolve into specks of light, her soul collapsing, disintegrating and with it, all her transcendent essence was destroyed.

But it was not a meaningless destruction; those endless specks of light merged into the monster’s body, visibly dissolving the blackness entwining him, repairing his form.

“Don’t be afraid, Asa.”

Elnilisa Drenan, a mother, before her entire existence dissolved completely, dedicating her soul to save her child from the abyss, gently kissed the monster’s head.

Just as she had kissed her child’s forehead the first time she held him, with such love, such happiness.

“This is my destiny. If my life, my everything, was for this moment—”

“Then it was all worth it, my child.”

Her body fully transformed into specks of light, dissipating into the boundless blackness.

Then, the abyss’s hue receded like a tide, the distorted, twisted form shrinking, shrinking, until it became the delicate form of a boy.

The boy opened his eyes, staring at the endless void, the destruction, the nothingness around him, his lips moving mechanically, unable to make a sound.

Like a puppet stripped of its soul, he sat limply, his eyes devoid of all color, hollow as if dead.

But as his unsupported head slowly drooped, his eyes reflected another hue.

The color of flowers.

In this endless destruction, as Elnilisa’s existence was utterly annihilated from within, a soft cluster of flowers, like an embrace, gently cradled the boy.

Those flowers seemed to whisper the words she had spoken to Anselm, as if proving—

In this endless destruction slept the greatest Head of Soul, who had triumphed over the abyss.

The greatest mother, who saved her child.