Chapter Two: Awakening of the Soul Devourer

Yama rose steadily, deftly dodging Obsidian’s kick. Obsidian had struck out with such force that he nearly sent himself flying from the bed, but Yama caught his foot in one hand and placed it gently back under the covers. Without giving Obsidian a chance to react, Yama straightened his collar with quiet composure and strolled out of the room.

Obsidian covered his face, his cheeks aflame as if scorched. What on earth was with that rosy, dreamy atmosphere just now? Had that frosty-faced man actually smiled? No, he must have been seeing things—absolutely imagining it.

He lingered in bed for a long while before finally calming down. Remembering the place Yan Nianqing had led him to the previous day, he decided to pay it another visit. But before he could reach the door, he caught the faint sounds of whispering. He held his breath, listening intently.

“Hey, did you hear? Last night Lord Wuchang and Lord Yama shared a room...”

“Two grown men sharing a room is nothing, unless...”

“Hehehe, exactly what you’re thinking!”

“Oh, hehehe...”

……

“Hey, have you heard? Lord Wuchang and Lord Yama finally spent the night together. Since their feelings are mutual, why torment each other any longer?”

“What are you talking about? Obviously, Lord Wuchang was the one to pursue Lord Yama first...”

“Nonsense. Of course our Lord Yama fell in love at first sight and made the first move!”

……

Voices swirled in from all directions, gathering into a cacophony that left Obsidian stunned, unable to process the wild rumors. He stood frozen in disbelief.

He forced himself to calm down, closed his eyes, and focused his mind.

Suddenly, he found he could see those gossiping people with perfect clarity, even though he remained motionless. It was the first time he had experienced such an uncanny phenomenon, and he couldn’t help but become absorbed by it.

A little more concentration... just a little more...

A breeze seemed to brush across his chest. When he opened his eyes again, he was standing directly behind the chattering group. Stepping forward, he patted one of them on the shoulder with a smile. “Interested in a part-time job in Hell?”

The voice halted abruptly. The man turned around, trembling. “L-L-Lord Wuchang!”

As soon as he spoke, his knees gave way. Another beside him quickly reached out to steady him, stammering, “Lord Wuchang, we admit our fault. We still have official duties to attend to—another day, we’ll come to beg your pardon properly.”

The two slipped away, leaving Obsidian to let out a cold, uncontrollable snort, excitement thrumming in his veins.

He tried once more to summon that earlier sensation—the power to see the world’s vast wonders without ever moving from his spot.

As he looked, Obsidian couldn’t help but marvel at the breathtaking beauty of this world. He hadn’t finished taking it all in when, quite suddenly, he saw a pair of blood-red eyes.

There was no white in those eyes—only scarlet, brimming with emotion: pain, longing, and above all, a deep, bitter resentment. Resentment that he couldn’t protect those he cared for, resentment that he couldn’t defy fate itself.

Obsidian found himself gazing back across the great distance, meeting that crimson stare until it finally turned away.

He didn’t quite know why, but his heart ached for those eyes, a heavy, stifling sorrow squeezing his chest. Even the thrill of his newfound ability was washed away, leaving him numbed.

He was eventually led back to his room through winding corridors. As soon as he collapsed onto the bed and pulled the blanket over his head, he drifted back to sleep.

As always, at that hour, Yama returned to the room after bathing and changing, only to find an unidentifiable lump on the bed.

He gently lifted the covers and pulled out Obsidian, who had nearly suffocated himself. Noticing the distress on Obsidian’s face, a flicker of doubt crossed Yama’s eyes, but rather than disturb him for answers, he decided he would investigate on his own.

Thus the second night, the third, the fourth... all passed in peace, until the seventh night...

Obsidian awoke in the middle of the night, his mouth parched. He got up to find water, and after drinking, regained his senses—only to realize that Yama, who had remained faithfully by his side these past days, was nowhere to be found.

A pang of disappointment struck him. Instinctively, he focused his mind to search.

Not far away, Yama appeared in dire straits—his hair disheveled, a split lip streaked with blood, his clothes covered in dust, as though he’d been rolling on the ground.

Widening his focus, Obsidian saw Yan Nianqing nearby, pale-faced and anxious, her robes rumpled and soiled. Yama was clearly fighting someone.

The one battling Yama—the eyes were unmistakable. Weren’t they the same blood-red eyes he’d seen days before?

Obsidian’s heart clenched. In an instant, he was at Yan Nianqing’s side, gathering her protectively into his arms.

Yan Nianqing, nerves taut as she watched the struggle, nearly lashed out in panic when someone embraced her. Fortunately, in that instant she recognized Obsidian and her tension melted away.

With a small cry, she burrowed into his arms. “Mother...”

Obsidian had no time to object to her form of address. Anxiously, he asked, “What’s the situation?”

Yan Nianqing’s voice dropped, heavy with worry. “That man’s skills are almost equal to Father’s—no, perhaps even greater.”

Obsidian’s brow furrowed at this. “Then isn’t your father...”

He bit his lip unconsciously, looking on with growing concern as the duel raged.

Seeing Yama begin to tire, Heinu sneered, “What’s this? The mighty King of Hell, yet your strength is so paltry—far weaker than before. Has a life of ease made you soft?”

As Heinu taunted him, he seized upon Yama’s brief distraction, aiming to finish him off in one blow. To this day, he could not understand what his master saw in someone so frail.

Catching Yama’s gaze, Obsidian saw that he was unaware of the danger behind him. Without hesitation, Obsidian darted forward, switching places with Yama.

Heinu was shocked, unable to pull back his attack in time. He forcibly altered the blow’s trajectory, but a fraction of the force still struck Obsidian.

Pain lanced through Obsidian’s back. He collapsed against Yama, blood at his lips. “Damn, that hurts like hell. You owe me a life for this...”

Panic flashed across Yama’s face as he clamped a hand over Obsidian’s mouth. “Don’t talk nonsense!”

Obsidian feebly pushed Yama’s hand away, turning toward Heinu. “Don’t... don’t hurt him.”

Heinu’s eyes grew even bloodier. Why—why, even after losing your memories, do you still shield him?

A chime of bells rang out—Soul-Eater Bell, which Yan Nianqing wore at her waist. The bell drifted toward Obsidian, then hesitated, circling uncertainly in the air.

A blinding white light flashed. With a sharp crack, the Soul-Eater Bell split in two—one half flying to Obsidian, the other returning to Yan Nianqing.