Chapter 24: Chapter 24: The Saga of Eren

[ Freya del Astrea POV ]

I was wrong about this boy.

He wasn’t brave.

He was stupid. A fool who was always ready to throw his life away at the slightest provocation.

It had been three hours since I started training him. Three hours of explaining what was happening inside his soul and what he needed to do.

The training began with the basics. Synchronizing his QUOR with the aura of the summon residing within.

Just as we possess QUOR, summons possess aura. The first step was cultivation. Meditation. Looking deeper into one’s soul and either forcefully or gently pushing your QUOR toward the unknown corner where the summon resides.

Their aura acts like a magnet. And our QUOR, when it reaches them, allows them to feel information about their host.

The strength of the host. The potential within them.

Unfortunately, this phase wasn’t working for him.

This phase typically takes one year. Or to be more precise, much longer than that for a person like him.

He had tried multiple times during the first thirty minutes. But he told me he couldn’t reach one corner of his core. He was denied entry after every forceful attempt.

Which confirmed it.

The summon wasn’t accepting him as its host.

This was common. I told him that once he trained more, cultivated more, showed his worth and desperation, or even bowed to the summon’s soul remnant, he could easily bind with it within a year.

Not to mention there were many materials available for increasing QUOR density and capacity. I even offered to procure them for him.

But no.

He said he couldn’t wait that long.

Asked me for other methods.

He was so determined. So desperate. So utterly unwilling to accept any reasonable timeline.

That I told him about a suicidal method.

A method I now deeply regret sharing.

In this method, you have to go unconscious. In that moment, both you and all your summons feel the shift. For a brief window, you can enter their domain if they allow it.

This typically only works if you possess an SSS rank summon. Maybe SS rank in some rare cases.

But it also works for a person who has a summon of any rank that they haven’t summoned yet. Because those summons still retain their memories. Their actual souls. And once they bind with and accept their master, their soul shatters, leaving behind only a loyal summon.

This bastard was trying exactly that method.

Forcing himself into unconsciousness. Again and again. Trying to enter his summon’s domain and convince him through whatever insane plan he had devised.

For the past two and a half hours, this asshole had been hurting himself.

Banging his head against a tree.

Again.

And again.

And again.

Losing consciousness each time.

His forehead was bleeding like hell. Rivers of blood running down his face.

His nose was bleeding too. From the pressure of the process itself.

His ear had been bleeding since before we even started.

He just wanted to die here.

That was the only explanation.

And more than his body, the state of the tree was worse.

The bark was completely broken where he had been striking. Instead of moving to a fresh spot, he kept hitting the same bloody, splintered section. His blood was embedded deep into the wood now.

I was witnessing insanity.

Pure madness.

All for desperation.

But why? Why was he pushing this hard? What could possibly be worth destroying yourself like this?

My thoughts were interrupted.

He was coming back to consciousness. Again.

I moved toward him. Ready to scold him. Ready to tell him to give up once and for all.

But then I saw his face.

He was smiling.

Blood covered every inch of his features. Dripping from his forehead. Streaming from his nose. Caked around his ear.

And through all that crimson horror, he was smiling.

Like a devil.

“I think I’m getting closer.”

“So you met your summon?”

“No.”

He shook his head. Winced from the pain the movement caused.

“But I heard him.”

“What?”

I couldn’t hide my frustration. “That doesn’t count as getting close!”

I looked at his face. Expecting him to be discouraged.

But he was ignoring my words completely. His eyes were bright. Excited.

I sighed. “What did it say?”

His grin widened. Blood dripped from his lips.

“He said: ’Get out of here, you child. All you are doing is useless. You are unworthy.’”

Hearing that, I was certain now.

He was a maniac.

He had been hit on the head by that bandit. Then he spent hours smashing his skull against a tree. Of course he had lost his mind.

However, I sighed again.

“And why do you think next time will work?”

He smiled. “Because I replied to him. And I’m sure he heard me.”

Curiosity overcame my frustration.

“What did you say?”

His expression shifted. That devil’s grin returned.

“You say I am unworthy? Funny.”

He laughed. Actually laughed. With blood bubbling from his lips.

“The place you’re standing in says I own you. So be a good dog and stop the barking.”

I wasn’t shocked.

Somehow, it felt normal now. After watching this boy for hours, I knew he would say something exactly like that.

I saw him struggling to his feet. Using the bloodied tree for support. Positioning himself for another strike.

I grabbed his hand.

“Don’t be foolish!” My voice was sharper than I intended.

“Give up already! Or you will die!”

I pulled him back.

“We can try again later. I can help you tomorrow if you want.”

He looked at me. That smile never leaving his bloodied face.

“I can either give up or keep going. The best part? Both will hurt.”

His eyes met mine.

“So why not accept the pain that leads somewhere?”

“Even if you succeed…”

I gestured at his destroyed body.

“Your body will break from these wounds. Those scars will never leave you. You’ll carry them forever.”

He was quiet for a moment.

Then he spoke.

“Scars are just memories imprinted in flesh.”

His voice was calm. Certain.

“And I intend to write a saga so long that death itself has to wait for me to finish the last Chapter.”

I was angry.

Angry at his ego. His arrogance. His complete disregard for his own life.

I didn’t feel the depth in his words. Didn’t appreciate the philosophy behind them.

Before I could stop him, he moved.

CRACK!

His forehead connected with the tree again.

He stumbled backward. Eyes rolling. Going into the falling phase once more.

But this time, I caught him.

Lowered him gently to the ground. Let him lay on the grass.

I looked at his unconscious face. Covered in blood. Features twisted in determination even while senseless.

“Eren.”

I whispered.

“This time, you better succeed.”

[ Eren’s POV ]

Darkness.

Then light.

’So this is what my soul looks like.’

I stood in an endless void. Not quite black. Not quite white. Something in between that hurt to look at directly.

’Or maybe this is Marcus’s soul.’

’Or maybe a completely different domain altogether.’

’Who knows.’

’Who cares.’

I was finally in.

’Now what should I do?’

’Find that F rank arrogant mutt and show him his place.’

’Make him understand who owns who in this relationship.’

But before I could take a single step, I noticed something.

A figure.

Walking toward me.

Every step he took radiated power. Aura itself seemed to ripple outward from his feet.

He was slim. Old. His frame looked like it belonged to someone in their seventies, not forties.

’Wait.’

’Where the hell is his sword?’

’Is he really a general?’

I squinted. Tried to make out his features through the strange light of this domain.

Then realization struck.

Marius was around 40s and this one looks 70s.

No sword. Because he didn’t use one.

Not a warrior’s build. Because he wasn’t a warrior.

An archmage.

The features became clear. Ancient face. Knowing eyes. Power crackling at his fingertips.

I muttered the name.

“Zenos.”

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