—–

Zorba stared at his brother writhing on the floor, bleeding out and groaning in agony at Louis’s hand. Though he had sworn loyalty to his lord, he could barely think straight in this moment. He had only just reunited with his brother, and now Lord Louis was trying to kill him. The brother he had slain with his own hands—his deepest regret across his entire life—was somehow alive, the wound in his soul undone.

Yet Lord Louis was stripping that away from him once more. Zorba’s hands trembled as he watched his brother vomit blood. Slowly he rose to his full height. Hecatoncheires transformed into hard bony plates that wrapped around his body as he flew toward his brother without a second thought.

“Lord Louis! Wait! Please wait!”

“…!”

Louis stepped back. He had been one second from finally ending Veynar without any more of his nonsense, yet Zorba now stood between them. The very man Louis had tried to save from this monster was now shielding the one who wanted him dead.

“Zorba, what are you doing?! Move aside!”

“No! I can’t! He’s my brother! Please…! Please don’t kill him, Lord Louis! Have mercy! He may be from an enemy nation, but—”

“Zorba, he’s trying to kill you! He’s manipulating you with his Spiral! He’s a Malevolent Plotter Spiralwalker! Don’t you see?!”

“No, that’s…!”

Zorba’s eyes widened as he sensed his brother looming behind him. A sharp claw shot toward his chest. Louis reacted faster, shoving Zorba down and slashing Veynar’s hand with the Ashen Frost Sword.

SLASH!

“Aaaaaggghh!”

Veynar clutched his bleeding arm, screaming and sobbing in pain. Zorba stared in confusion at his brother crying on the ground. “V-Veynar!”

“Brother, help me! That man wants to kill me!” Veynar muttered desperately. “He’s the real monster here! I just want to be with my brother again!”

Zorba rushed toward him, but Louis blocked his path. “Zorba, don’t! He doesn’t care about you—he’s lying!”

Veynar smirked viciously. Black armor rapidly formed around him as he summoned a massive black sword and swung it at Louis’s back. “HAAAH!”

SLAAASH!

“Ngh?!” Louis clenched his teeth and glared back, barely fazed. “Bastard, what do you think you’re doing?!”

“Brother, help me slay him!” Veynar urged Zorba. “He’s a monster! He’s not even human like us! He’s a dragon from Yggdrasil! Why are you protecting him?! Let’s kill him together and go home! I’ll explain how I survived later…!”

“…!” Zorba froze, paralyzed. His mind tore itself apart. Loyalty to Lord Louis—those dreams, memories, or echoes from another time, another world—his endless devotion, admiration, and Louis’s promises clashed violently against his love for his brother, his family, his blood. “Lord Louis…! C-Can we at least… capture him?”

“…No,” Louis answered, swinging his sword at Veynar. “I will kill him and feed you his heart.”

“…?! Wait!” Zorba cried out as Louis moved faster.

Reinforcing the blade with power inherited from Niflheim, Spiritual Power fused with Sword Energy. A colossal slash shaped like a frozen dragon fang tore through Veynar’s body, shattering his black armor and carving a deep, freezing wound across him.

“GAAAHH!” Veynar screamed in torment, collapsing as frost spread over the gash, beginning to encase him entirely. He begged for mercy. “M-mercy! Please have mercy! Brother…! Brother, save me!”

As he wailed, his three spirits manifested and attacked Louis. The jackal, the leviathan, and the red lotus unleashed claws, draining Fantasium flowers, and a coiling beast that tried to swallow him whole.

“You’re not the only one with Spirits,” Louis said calmly. His spear glowed as his own three spirits appeared, tearing into Veynar’s and shredding them. They had grown far stronger after devouring them in his previous regression.

“A-Ahhh! M-My Spirits—AAACK!” Veynar shrieked as Louis plunged his hand into Veynar’s chest, ripping out the Spirit Orb and tossing it to Zorba. Blood coated Louis’s hand and face.

“Here, Zorba. Absorb this. You’re far more worthy of these spirits than that monster,” Louis said with a gentle smile, the madness in his actions unmistakable.

“…” Zorba’s mouth fell open. His hands shook.

“Z-Zorba…! Don’t…! Z-Zorba!” Veynar pleaded as Zorba’s trembling fingers slowly closed around the Spirit Orb.

“Lord Louis…” Zorba began to understand. Louis was a jealous man who wanted him entirely for himself. In his heart, there could be only one—Lord Louis. Whatever love or attachment Zorba had once felt for Veynar faded away. “Yes… I understand now… thank you… my beloved lord. I shall…” With an equally insane smile, Zorba absorbed the Spirit Orb in front of his brother’s horrified eyes.

“W-What’s happening?! Why is this happening?! My Plot…! My Malevolent Play should be…! You…” Veynar glared at Louis in disbelief. “You’re… like me?!”

The reason Fate had stopped forcing Zorba to protect his brother was obvious: Louis had used the same Malevolent Play ability, casting himself and Zorba as actors in the narrative.

He had woven a story where Zorba accepted him as his one true lord and forever abandoned his brother’s love by claiming the Spirit Orb.

“You’re belong to me, Zorba,” Louis said, staring into his red eyes. “Understood?”

“Yes… my lord…” Zorba nodded, his face alight with fascination and fanaticism. “I shall serve you until the world ends…”

Louis regretted manipulating him this way, but he knew it was necessary. Zorba’s attachment to his brother would eventually turn him against Louis—and that was the last thing he wanted. So he twisted Fate, performed an uno reverse on Veynar, and shattered the Malevolent Play’s control over his young brother entirely.

“You’re a monster, Veynar,” Louis said. “I read your soul and memories once… you’re a despicable son of a bitch. You and your father deserved everything that happened to you. Now die and never come back.”

Louis drove his sword through Veynar’s Fantasy Heart and tore it from his chest as Veynar screamed. The Dark Knight Incarnation roared and attacked with everything it had before Veynar could perish.

But the Psychopath, Dark Knight, and Devil Incarnations roared back. Though the last two were only fragments, together they overwhelmed Veynar’s Incarnation and ripped it to pieces.

“My… master…”

The Dark Knight spoke its first and last words. Its armored hand trembled as it watched Veynar die pitifully, scattering into black dust.

“Veynar…”

Zorba stared at his brother’s remains in shock. As he absorbed the Spirit Orb’s power, spiritual energy surged through him.

At the same time, Veynar’s three Spirits perished, leaving the orb empty—but now Zorba could forge new ones.

“Zorba, eat this.”

Louis offered him his brother’s heart. Zorba accepted it with trembling, blood-soaked hands, smiling as he kissed the still-warm organ.

“Ahh, my brother’s heart… still warm… I love you, brother…” he whispered. “But now someone else has taken your place…”

With growing fascination and deepening madness, Zorba devoured the heart bite by bite, awakening his second Spiral—the full Malevolent Plotter, a complete Tier 7 Spiral.

The Dark Knight manifested behind him once more, reborn anew: bone-shaped black armor, a skull helmet, tall and imposing—the perfect eternal sentinel to guard Zorba.

“What will your first spirits be? Forge them now if you can—Hm?”

Zorba stepped forward and touched his brother’s corpse. “My lord, may I have his soul?”

“What are you planning?” Louis asked, sighing. “I won’t give you his soul. I’ll destroy it.”

“I want to turn my brother into an Undead and then into my Spirit,” Zorba said with a smile. “That way I can always keep him…”

“…”

Louis sighed and handed over the soul. Spirits could never rebel against their masters; they were bound eternally to their life and loyalty.

There was no risk.

Zorba infused the soul back into the corpse, raising Veynar as an undead that groaned in pain and confusion.

Then Zorba smiled and kissed his brother’s forehead.

“You’re my property now, brother.”

With a wicked, unhinged grin that revealed the depths of his madness, spiritual power washed over Veynar, transforming his rotting body into a spiritual entity.

A Spirit of Death and Darkness was born—almost identical to before, but clad in shattered black armor and wielding a broken, rusty black sword.

“A-Ahhh…! Zorba…! Zorbaaaa…! What… have you done to me…?!”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep