Kai had always been a person of few words.

In his childhood, silence had been a survival skill honed on the unforgiving streets, where speaking out of turn could land you in more trouble than any blade. Even after his master had taken him in, he maintained his cautious nature, observing more than speaking.

It wasn’t until he started mastering magic and earning respect among peers that he began to understand the true power of words. They could be as sharp and unpredictable as any spell, wielded with care or reckless abandon, capable of causing alliances or misunderstandings with a mere slip. Just like that.

Now, standing in front of Princess Amara and her wide-eyed maid Anya, the realisation hit him like a sudden gust of cold wind.

He replayed his own words in his mind, catching the unintended implication too late. The princess’s cheeks flushed pink, a mixture of confusion and shock twisting her features, while the maid’s eyes darted between them, torn between horror and curiosity.

He cleared his throat, voice steady but urgent. “Let me be clearer,” he said, holding up a hand as if to stop an oncoming storm. “I didn’t realise my words could cause a misunderstanding. By being inside you, I mean my consciousness needs to enter your Mana heart— in your astral realm where your mana circles converge. In cases of Mana heart ruptures, it damages not only the physical organ but also the astral structure within. To heal it, we need to work from the inside.”

The tension in the room eased slightly as Amara’s expression shifted from bewildered to contemplative. The colour in her cheeks receded as understanding settled in. She glanced at him with an edge of curiousness and the previous expression subsided. “Is that even possible?” she asked, her voice quieter now.

“It is,” he said in a firm tone. “But it’s not without risk.” The unspoken understanding passed between them.

Kai thought his words carefully as he continued, “There would be complications, obviously. The body needs to be very stable for this type of procedure to work, but I can do it. The challenge is situated in navigating the astral realm— it’s not an easy place to do anything, even under ideal conditions. I’d only be able to maintain my presence there for ten, maybe twenty minutes, depending on how stable your body remains. Even then, a significant part of the process will rely on you.”

Amara’s brows knitted with concern. “What do you mean by that?”

“You’ll understand better once we begin the procedure,” Kai said, his tone firm. “For now, it’s important that you know the risks. If complications arise, such as the astral realm taking longer than expected to heal despite my spells, I might be forced out before I can finish. If that happens, your heart could end up in a worse state than it is now.”

Anya, the princess’s maid, gasped, eyes wide with alarm. “That sounds far too dangerous. The princess’s life could be at risk!”

Kai’s gaze hardened as he nodded. “Yes, it could be. But there’s no other way to repair the damage. If we don’t do this, her condition will only continue to deteriorate. I wish there was a safer path, but there isn’t.”

Amara looked at her maid, whose face was a mask of worry. Anya opened her mouth to protest, but Amara raised a hand, silencing her. Determination shone in the princess’s eyes as she took a deep breath, steeling herself. “No. We came all this way for a reason,” she said, her voice trembling but resolute. “If I don’t go through with this, I won’t last much longer anyway.”

She turned to Kai, her gaze unwavering. “Please, start the procedure.”

Kai nodded, pulling out a small vial with a crystalline, blue liquid that shimmered faintly under the rays of the morning sun coming through the window. It was a concoction he’d spent hours perfecting the previous day, carefully measuring each ingredient.

If his calculations were correct, it would buy them the time they needed.

“This is a mana-stabilising potion,” he said. His eyes moved to the curious pairs of eyes. “It’ll put you into a deep, near-sleep state. Once it takes effect, I’ll enter your astral soul to begin the procedure.” He shifted his gaze to Anya, who stood nearby with worry etched into every line of her face. “No matter what happens, don’t try to wake her. Even if her body shakes or reacts, let it run its course. Understood?”

Anya swallowed hard, the colour draining from her face as she nodded. Amara took the vial, turning it in her hands, the light catching the liquid’s gleam as she studied it with a mix of apprehension and resolve.

Without another word, she tipped her head back and drank it down in one go.

A visible shiver ran through her after ten seconds as the potion’s effects began to set in. “My body feels… different,” she whispered, her eyes already growing heavy.

“That’s normal,” Kai said softly. “Just relax. Close your eyes.”

Amara obeyed, her body settling into the bed as the tension in her muscles slowly unwound. Kai waited, counting the seconds as her breathing deepened, her eyelids fluttering closed. When he saw her body become limp, he took her hand, feeling the coldness of her fingers against his own.

“Please, do your best,” Anya said, her voice trembling. “The princess has suffered so much already.”

Kai’s eyes flicked to her, an unspoken promise glinting in them. He didn’t want to stress the maid out even though he knew the serious consequences that this process would have.

Therefore, like any medical practitioner, he gave his promise. “I’ll do everything I can,” he said, and then, with a steady breath, he gripped Amara’s hand tighter and began to murmur an incantation under his breath.

The spell he needed to use was called [Astral Intrusion]. Although the name of the spell was mildly evil, it was often used in these procedures, and was one of the easier soul spells to learn.

Soul spells were among the most complicated and demanding of magical arts. Kai only knew a few of them, no more than two or three. They weren’t his specialty; he lacked any real affinity for soul magic. But this one spell—the one required for the surgery—was the one he was confident in.

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The words of the incantation spilled out, each syllable imbued with mana and pulsing against his very core as it slowly coursed through his veins and into Amara.

His consciousness followed the stream of energy, weaving its way through her mana channels and toward the heart. He could feel the spiritual tug as his piece of soul reached the threshold, ready to enter the damaged astral plane. With a final whisper, he pushed his essence forward, a surge of mana propelling him deeper.

Suddenly, a force yanked at him, and his vision plunged into darkness.

The room, the weight of Amara’s hand, even Anya’s worried presence— all of it disappeared as he was drawn inside her fractured mana heart.

***

Kai awoke to a world that felt like the embodiment of death itself— an endless, frozen wasteland where the air bit at his skin with a ferocity that made his bones ache.

Each breath he took felt like inhaling shards of ice, and the cold wasn’t just external; it seemed to seep into his very essence, gnawing at his resolve. The horizon was a disorienting blur of swirling, gaseous white light, pulsing with a ghostly glow that cast long, trembling shadows across the jagged, frost-covered ground.

He took a cautious step forward, the ice crackling underfoot in protest. An instinctual shudder ran through him, not just from the chill but from the oppressive lifelessness of this realm.

“Her astral realm is really dead,” he muttered, the words hanging in the freezing air like a condemning whisper.

The mere thought that Amara had survived in such a condition of her astral realm should’ve been all due to her willpower.

Most Mages would have succumbed long before now.

Kai’s eyes rose to the sky, where the only source of warmth resided— a massive, golden circle coiled in convoluted patterns, hanging in the void like a silent sentinel. It glowed with a soft, wavering light that barely managed to fend off the suffocating cold. The golden illumination flickered like the last candle in a storm, valiantly refusing to be snuffed out.

That was her mana circle.

His attention snapped downward as the landscape groaned beneath him, deep fissures tearing through the icy expanse with a sound that was both a hiss and a roar.

The fractures branched out like black veins, splitting the very fabric of the realm, and from those cracks, a cold wind surged, carrying with it the echo of something fragile and on the brink of shattering.

The wind cut through his cloak, making it snap and whip against his back.

“The rupture,” Kai whispered, the weight of the word sinking like a stone in his chest.

The state of her astral realm was far worse than he had imagined. The physical signs had been dire, but this realm— splintered, frozen, and dying— painted a picture of unavoidable fiasco. If he failed to act, these creeping cracks would soon expand, spreading like poison until her Mana heart and astral core fragmented into oblivion.

Two months had been a generous estimate.

He pushed forward, each step a battle against the wind and ice that clawed at him as though to drag him down into the void. Just as he approached the largest fracture, a sound, soft and uncertain, broke the desolate silence. He whipped around, heart racing.

Amara stood there, her astral form almost luminous against the desolation.

“Arzan?” she whispered, her voice

trembling, barely more than a breath and filled with disbelief.

Unlike her regal, composed physical self, Amara’s astral form was more vulnerable, draped in a simple white cloth that flowed over her like a wisp of mist.

The cloth clung loosely to her, moving as if caught in an unseen breeze. Her eyes, wide and uncertain, darted around the desolate expanse as she whispered, “Where are we?”

Kai’s gaze was steady as he replied, “Your astral realm.” He pointed toward the large, jagged crack running across the icy ground, the gash in reality that seemed to ooze cold, dark energy. “That’s the rupture. I’m pretty sure you’ve been here before, but memories of the astral realm are difficult to hold onto— like a dream that slips away as soon as you wake.”

Amara turned to look at the rupture, her expression tightening as a shiver coursed down her spine. “That looks bad.”

A wry chuckle escaped Kai as he scanned the horizon. “It is,” he admitted, “but believe it or not, that’s not our biggest problem here.”

Before she could ask what he meant, a strangled noise interrupted them.

Amara staggered back, her breath catching in her throat as shadows began to rise from the icy ground, limbs flailing and twisting as though each motion caused them pain.

Their bodies were an abhorrent fusion of shadow and decaying flesh, slick with a black, tar-like substance that dripped in thick globs, sizzling as it hit the frost beneath them. It clung to their forms like a second skin, seeping from jagged wounds that seemed to open and close of their own accord.

Their faces were a nightmare given shape, split and warped in ways that defied anatomy.

One creature’s jaw was unhinged, hanging at an unnatural angle with cracked, splintered bone visible beneath the shadowy surface.

Teeth like splintered glass jutted out in uneven rows, each one stained with an ichorous sheen that seemed to pulse with a glow. The eye sockets were hollow and empty, but deep within, an ember-like light flickered— a sickly, yellow-orange flame that shivered and writhed as if alive.

Clawed hands emerged from tangled limbs, fingers elongated and jagged, ending in black, cracked talons that scraped at the ice, leaving deep, angry gouges in their wake.

Each movement they made was accompanied by a wet, tearing sound, as if their very existence was pulling apart at the seams. Some had limbs that split and reformed, twitching erratically, as though the energy holding them together was barely sufficient.

The smell was palpable even in this astral space— a phantom stench of rot and burned ozone that made the air thick and hard to breathe. Their forms rippled with a semi-transparent quality, revealing pulsating veins of dark mana beneath their skin that coiled and throbbed like worms trapped in flesh.

When they moved, their bodies convulsed and shuddered. They looked like they were fighting to reach up.

One of them lurched forward, its disfigured head tilting at an unnatural angle before emitting a gurgling, otherworldly wail that seemed to resonate inside the skull like a scream made of countless voices, each echo tinged with pain and madness.

Amara took several shaky steps back until she felt Kai’s steadying hand on her shoulder. His grip was firm, anchoring her amidst the growing dread.

Her eyes darted to his, searching for reassurance. “What are they?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper, as one of the shadows let out a bone-chilling screech that echoed across the wasteland.

“Soul wraiths,” Kai said, the word heavy with gravity. His eyes stayed fixed on the abominations clawing their way forward, their grotesque forms dripping with a tar-like substance that hissed against the icy ground. “They’re in everyone. Manifestations of all the negative emotions you’ve ever felt— your fears, shattered dreams, regrets… Everything bad.”

Kai continued, his tone steady but urgent. “But the worst thing about them isn’t even how they look.”

Her voice trembled as she glanced back at him. “What is it, then?”

Without a word, Kai raised his hand, conjuring a small, bright fireball that crackled with intense heat. He hurled it at the nearest wraith, the flames hissing as they collided with the creature. But instead of recoiling or vanishing, the wraith absorbed the fire, the light disappearing into its dark, corrupted form. It howled with renewed fury, lurching toward them as if they didn’t even feel it.

“I can’t hurt them,” Kai said as he faced Amara. “They aren’t my fears. I have no control over them. Only you do.” He let the gravity of his words sink in as the shadows twisted and clawed at the ground, their gnarled faces shifting between expressions of rage and anguish.

Amara’s mouth fell open, the shock in her eyes deepening into fear. “How will I fight them?” she asked, her voice thin and unsteady, as if the very idea was too much to grasp.

Kai inhaled deeply. “By facing your fears,” he said.

***

A/N – You can read 30 chapters (15 Magus Reborn and 15 Dao of money) on my patreon.

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