With the two of them, the slaughter unfolded in a fluid, relentless rhythm. Auren had never expected such perfect synchronization—where his defenses wavered, she was already there, her movements sharp and instinctive, demanding that he match her pace.
But he wasn't the type to be led.
To avoid falling into a pattern where she dictated the flow, Auren left openings—calculated vulnerabilities designed to test her reactions. He slowed his footwork by a fraction, just enough to guide her into the right angles, her strikes aligning with his own unspoken strategy. She believed it was instinct. He ensured it was design.
It was fascinating. In controlling the battlefield without her knowledge, he shaped the fight's outcome before she even realized it. And he wielded that synchronization until the very last heartbeat of battle.
Then—silence.
They stood amidst the carnage, the corpses of Hollowed Screamers twisted in grotesque heaps, their black blood pooling like ink beneath their broken bodies. The air was thick with the acrid stench of decay, the eerie quiet making the slaughter feel almost unreal.
Auren exhaled, surveying the aftermath.
He had no doubt he could have done it alone. Given time, he would have carved through them all, but this? This was something else. Swift. Precise. Ruthlessly efficient.
A smirk ghosted across his lips.
More than anything, he hadn't died—not even once. And the rewards…
The rewards were plentiful.
For that, he had the girl to thank. Her presence had sharpened the edge of battle, refined it into something cleaner. More effective.
Speaking of the girl…
She stepped forward without hesitation, drawing a small knife. Without the slightest care for the grotesqueness of it, she knelt and sliced into the creatures' chests, black blood spattering across her face like war paint. Her hands moved with practiced precision, unbothered by the sickening squelch of torn flesh as she pried their soul hearts free.
Auren watched in quiet assessment.
She was a Blessed. Or maybe a Nascent.
He was certain of it now. But he had never seen her before—not in Hope's Province. If she had existed there, knowledge of her would have found him, the way water found its inevitable path downhill.
Was she from another province?
He studied her, curiosity flickering beneath his cold gaze, as she methodically harvested the last soul heart before returning to him.
Her lilac eyes, sharp as winter frost, met his.
"You took down the leader, so its soul heart is yours. That leaves thirteen — six for me, seven for you. You did most of the work."
Her voice was smooth but slightly croaky, like someone nursing a sore throat.
Auren eyed the dirtied leather pouch in her hand before turning his back to the Major Tainted—the one she had called the leader.
"How about this?"
His tone was even, measured.
"I give you the Major Tainted core, and in exchange, I take all the rest… along with the bag."
The girl frowned slightly.
"If you want the bag, you can kill me and just take it. No need to pay such a high price for it."
Auren's lips curled into something between a smirk and a grimace.
"I'd rather not assume you'd be kind enough to hand over your life to me easily. And I doubt you want to carry your soul hearts in your bare hands."
He gestured at the pouch.
"This way, you get a high-quality soul heart, and you don't have to worry about where to put it."
She tilted her head, studying him.
"And going forward?"
Auren replied simply.
"I don't plan that far ahead for strangers. Besides you'll have a Major Tainted core. Meanwhile, all I'll have are some measly Moderate and Minor Tainted."
His expression soured, distaste bending his features.
Watching him, her frown deepened. Suspicion crept into her gaze, mingling with curiosity.
"If it disgusts you that much, why are you so willing to part with it?"
Auren shrugged.
"Because I need a bag more than I need a Major Tainted soul heart."
His eyes flickered with something unreadable.
"Because of going forward."
Of course, Auren wasn't being completely honest with her. The only reason he could so easily dismiss the value of a Major Tainted soul heart was because he already had something far better—a Major Blighted.
It wasn't just a single level jump. It was an entire cycle jump. Perhaps ten levels ahead.
Would he have liked the Major Tainted? No doubt. But with his hands already full, he'd have to forfeit some of the lesser soul hearts anyway. Trading for the bag meant securing more soul hearts and keeping them moving forward.
That was what the girl was truly worried about—that she wouldn't be able to do the same.
Now, all that mattered was whether she considered his offer valuable enough to relinquish the pouch.
She studied him for a moment before a faint smile touched her lips. Then, her cold lilac eyes locked onto his.
"You're interesting."
Her voice was smooth and unreadable.
"...Smart, too. And your combat intelligence is higher than anyone I've met at our age."
She paused. Then added with a cold tone.
"Are you merely a doll conjured by the Archon's trial… or are you a Nascent like us?"
Auren tilted his head slightly.
He didn't speak, but in that moment, a dozen things slotted into place in his mind.
Dots he hadn't yet connected before.
He made sure none of it showed.
"I'm a Nascent. And I'm surprised you don't know me, considering I was quite… notable in the ceremony."
A deliberate pause. Then, as though the thought had only just occurred to him:
"Which Archon's province are you from?"
His words were chosen with care — polite, distant.
She held his gaze, then answered blankly.
"Hope. What about you?"
Auren stilled.
For a fraction of a second, something flickered beneath his exterior, but he smothered it before it could surface.
Luckily, the girl was distracted — her gaze shifting to the bloodied ground — and she missed the slight shift in his expression.
Auren's mind churned.
'Should I lie? Or tell the truth?'
As far as the Archon of Light's Province — Hope's Province — was concerned, he was dead. If word spread that he was alive once they left this trial…
What would they do to him?
Would they even believe it?
And more importantly… she had said 'us.'
That meant there were more of them.
Auren suspected he'd be forced to meet them soon, whether he wanted to or not. He needed people to clear the trial.
Of course, his definition of 'needing people' was… different. Taught concepts from the preschool had long since crumbled under the weight of what he had become.
An existence that shouldn't exist.
"I'm from Hope's Province too."
His voice was even. Unshaken.
"What's your name?"
"Meredith."
She cast a slow glance around the battlefield, taking in the grotesque remnants of the Hollowed Screamers. Then, her eyes returned to Auren.
"And you?"
Auren hesitated for a moment, then he smiled.
"My name is Auren. Nice to meet you Meredith."