Chapter 22: Shadows of the Former Life

 

The spectral rift in the center of the treasury pulsed with a rhythmic, sickly violet light, casting long, distorted shadows against the stacks of ancient gold. The voice that had echoed from the void—cold, clinical, and laced with a familiarity that made Scarlett’s skin crawl—belonged to none other than Master Xuan, the man who had betrayed her in her original life and caused the ritual that sent her soul spiraling into this novel.

“You don’t belong in this world, Scarlett,” the voice hissed again, more distinct now. A hand, translucent and withered like ancient parchment, reached through the crack in reality, its fingers twitching as if searching for a familiar thread. “The debt of the temple must be paid in blood. Return to the void, and your soul may yet find peace.”

Scarlett stood frozen, her breath coming in shallow gasps. The trauma of her previous life—the betrayal, the cold steel of the ritual dagger, the smell of incense and blood—surged back like a tidal wave. For a second, she wasn't the powerful Sovereign of the North; she was that vulnerable disciple again.

Suddenly, a warmth flooded her senses, cutting through the icy chill of the void.

Caleb had stepped directly into the path of the rift. He stood like a mountain of silver and steel, his presence so immense that the spectral hand seemed to recoil from his golden aura. He didn’t look at the rift; he looked back at Scarlett, his golden eyes burning with a dark, terrifying possessiveness.

“Is this the ghost that haunts your dreams, little witch?” Caleb’s voice was a low, dangerous rumble that vibrated through the floorboards.

“He... he’s the one who sent me here,” Scarlett managed to whisper, her fingers clutching the jade brush so hard they turned white.

Caleb turned his gaze back to the rift. His wolf didn’t just growl; it let out a sound that felt like the earth itself was snarling. “Then he is a dead man who has forgotten his place. In this world, the only god you answer to is me.”

Caleb’s arm began to transform—not just into the claws of a Lycan, but into a manifestation of raw, primal energy fueled by the Lunar Key fragment within Scarlett. He reached out and grabbed the spectral hand coming through the rift.

The void let out a shriek of agony.

“You think you can pull her back?” Caleb roared, his muscles bulging as he literally began to pull the rift apart with his bare hands. “I have fought the darkness of this world for a thousand years. Your 'void' is nothing but a shadow to me!”

Scarlett realized then that Caleb wasn't just protecting her; he was declaring war on her past. Her fear began to evaporate, replaced by a cold, sharp focus. She couldn't let him fight this alone. If the rift remained open, the Order of the Black Sun would use it as a doorway to invade the Stronghold.

“Caleb, hold the edges!” Scarlett commanded.

She bit her finger and smeared a drop of her essence onto the Stellar Navigator. The device began to spin with a divine, blinding radiance. She didn't use the defensive spells of the Thorne family; she used the Heaven-Sealing Hex of her true lineage.

“By the stars that guide the lost and the moon that guards the night, I seal this gate!”

Scarlett slammed the Stellar Navigator into the center of the rift. A massive explosion of golden and silver light filled the treasury, so bright that the guards outside fell to their knees.

The shriek from the void was cut short as the crack in reality collapsed in on itself, sealed by the combined power of the Lycan King’s strength and the Occultist’s magic.

The silence that followed was heavy, broken only by the sound of Caleb’s heavy breathing. The treasury was a mess—gold coins scattered everywhere, marble floors cracked—but the air was clean. The spectral stench was gone.

Caleb turned to her, his transformation receding but his eyes still glowing with a feral intensity. He strode over to her, his hands gripping her shoulders with an almost painful force.

“That man,” Caleb growled, leaning down until their foreheads touched. “If he ever reaches for you again, I will tear the heavens apart to find him. You are mine, Scarlett. Do you understand? Your past, your soul, your future—they belong to the North. They belong to me.”

Scarlett looked into his eyes and felt a strange, terrifying sense of peace. She was a villainess, a transmigrator, and a hunted witch. But in the arms of this monster, she felt more alive than she ever had in her own world.

“I’m not going anywhere, Caleb,” she whispered.

But as she spoke, she noticed a faint, black mark on Caleb’s arm—a shadow left behind by the void’s touch. The seal was holding, but the poison of her past had already begun to seep into the King.