One-Eyed Monster

The noon sunlight was mild, gently sprinkling onto Guru Mountain in a leisurely manner. The places bathed in sunlight glowed a brilliant gold, as vibrant as a lively fish leaping from water, while the dark areas, perpetually hidden from the light, resembled a ripple-free surface of water—placid, yet subtly sly. This sight was like being in a courtyard during afternoon tea, where an old granny, holding a book, narrated a story—or perhaps some wisdom—through her spectacles in a voice so soft and indistinct that one couldn’t possibly hear it clearly.

The granny leisurely turned the pages, slowly enunciating her words, not caring if you understood or not. Her indistinct tones seemed to say, "Everything has both a visible and an invisible side, just as seemingly tranquil waves can exert tremendous force when lapping against the shore. Everything has a moment of slumber and awakening. A hibernating bear beast will groggily awaken as warmth arrives, yet its roars in search of food can leave you trembling in fear. Everything also involves the choice between fighting and giving up. Choosing to press on despite seemingly insurmountable obstacles, or choosing to retreat to find a wider path, is merely a decision..."

The axe head, severed by Igor’s blow, tumbled to the ground, its fall seeming to echo the granny’s languid words. It landed precisely, missing the lanky robber’s foot by a mere hair’s breadth.

The ordinary shadow is about to enter eternal slumber, and another sleeping devil is awakening once again, set to appear within the familiar shell. The old granny’s soft, slow words still echoed in Igor’s mind. Fight or give up, it’s merely a decision...

Your convictions influence your decisions: whether to awaken the other soul within your body or to silently endure the pain brought by the destruction of your convictions...

"Evil is always evil. It always brings pain and nightmares. When encountering evil, one must teach it a good lesson," Igor muttered softly, his voice as low and swift as a bird snatching a fish, darting over the water’s surface. The kindly old lady’s gentle narrative was the signal for Igor’s Scale of Faith to tilt, and the weight that would restore that scale to balance was the choice Igor had made.

Faced with the Dark Alchemist, Igor’s choice was to "teach him a good lesson." This differed from the pity and regret he felt for the two foolish robbers. Compared to those pushed into banditry by cruel reality, those who actively indulged in Dark Magic saddened him more; it was a descent of the soul into evil. Thus, when facing evil scoundrels, Igor’s gaze would become firm, his body filled with strength. This peculiar transformation in Igor wasn’t like a caterpillar becoming a butterfly, nor was it the abrupt awakening of a second personality. This metamorphosis was simply a cat revealing its predatory instincts upon spotting a mouse. It was just that the manifestation of this predatory instinct depended on Igor’s "Scale of Faith" to be unleashed.

But these complex inner workings were invisible to everyone but Igor. What others could see was only the panic of the two foolish robbers and the astonishment of the Dark Alchemist. Sweat beaded on the tip of the lanky robber’s nose. If the axe head had landed a hair’s breadth closer, his toes would have been severed. His brother, the short and stout one, wasn’t faring any better; he was clutching his wrist and rolling on the ground. This scene immediately made the lanky robber’s knees buckle. The tables had turned, and the "Spare me, good sir!" situation was now completely reversed.

The Dark Alchemist, now oblivious to the scorching sunlight, fumbled at his sleeves, trying to find some alchemical equivalent. Dark Alchemists, like other Dark Wizards on the Yowein Continent, were despised by the populace. While practitioners of Dark Arts researched forbidden Spellcraft and Bone Fighters delved into Reverse Physical Techniques, the methods of Dark Alchemists—stealing and misusing Alchemy Equations—were considered even more despicable. Though this opportunistic trickery couldn’t grant them mastery of an Alchemist’s prized Substance Sensing Skill, it could achieve contract summons akin to Spellcraft. Moreover, these time-limited Contract Beasts looked almost identical to the Exchange Beasts that true Alchemists transmuted. To some extent, Contract Beasts were even more violent and brutal than Exchange Beasts.

However, this Dark Alchemist seemed to hesitate. Should I reveal what’s hidden at the bottom of the box? I still have other important tasks. Is this Spirit Book worth my last contract? Stolen Alchemy Equations are finite; use one, and it’s gone. I’m not a true Alchemist who can create or reuse their own Alchemy Equations. This situation really puts me in a bind.

Kadi, the monster, watched impatiently from his hiding place. These two are just standing around. Are they going to fight or not? I really want to see what that fellow in the cave has up his sleeve.