Why, why. Why? Fiego thought. Its head spun in a panic as it pressed its face to the ground. The Spirit God Beatrice was master of all spirits, the living embodiment of the Spirit Realm itself. Ordinarily, they never revealed their presence here; Beatrice was a watcher, an existence that remained beyond the veil, observing from afar. On the rarest of occasions, they might appear in the Spirit Realm, but that happened only once every few centuries, if that. Yet, of all possible moments, Beatrice had chosen to show themselves now—right when a barbarian had stepped foot in their world. Just my luck, Fiego thought bitterly, shuddering as though cold sweat were rolling down its back—despite the fact that, as a spirit of fire, it couldn’t actually sweat at all. The silence that filled the air was suffocating, clouding Fiego’s mind with terror. However, while Fiego was paralyzed by dread, Ketal was thoroughly delighted. The Spirit God, huh? Ketal thought.This was only the second time he had stood before a god. Kalosia had descended by borrowing the body of their Saintess—so, technically, this was the first time Ketal had ever faced a god in person, not just an avatar. He studied Beatrice with open curiosity, and Beatrice, in turn, studied him. For a long moment, neither said a word. Then Beatrice broke the silence. “You. The famous one.” “You know me?” Ketal asked them, eyes twinkling with mischief. “I know. The one from the Inside.” Their words were slow, almost lazy. Fiego gaped in shock. It seemed unthinkable that the great Beatrice would even acknowledge a mere barbarian. “Why are you in my world?” Beatrice asked Ketal. “I came to form a contract with a spirit.” “A contract...? Why?” There was a trace of genuine confusion in Beatrice’s voice, as if they couldn’t fathom why anyone would bother with something so trivial. It reminded Ketal of the way adults sometimes looked at children collecting toys, bemused and slightly indulgent. “Because I want to,” Ketal replied simply, meeting their gaze without hesitation. Beatrice fell silent. There was a peculiar look in their eyes, as though they hadn’t expected such an answer. “But, unfortunately, I just heard it’s impossible,” Ketal went on, unfazed. “And besides... it seems my time here is almost up.” His body was beginning to fade, becoming less substantial with each passing moment. The last of his Myst was nearly spent; he wouldn’t be able to remain in the Spirit Realm much longer. That’s a shame, he thought. He hadn’t been able to form a contract with a spirit after all. Disappointing, yes, but he’d at least had the chance to explore the Spirit Realm and meet the Spirit God themselves. That was enough for now. As Ketal’s body began to dissolve, returning to the physical world, Fiego felt a wave of relief. The nightmare was over. “You.” Beatrice’s voice rang out. “Come again.” “Return here once more.” Ketal blinked, puzzled. “Why?” Fiego, forgetting itself, blurted out, “W-what?” It knew it was crossing a line, but Beatrice didn’t so much as glance its way. “You mean, you want to make a deal with me?” Ketal asked them. Beatrice answered only with silence—but Ketal recognized assent in the stillness. His curiosity sharpened. The Spirit God wanted to strike a bargain with him. He was tempted to ask what the terms were, but his body was already slipping away. “In that case, sure. I’ll be back soon.” With those words, Ketal’s consciousness slipped back to the mortal world. He found himself greeted by Arkemis and Karin, who had clearly been waiting for his return. “You’re back,” Karin said. “Yeah. It’s good to see you both again.” “Um, Ketal, how did it go...?” Arkemis looked anxious. Ketal shook his head. “No luck, I’m afraid.” “I figured as much, but...” Arkemis fidgeted, searching for words to console him. “Don’t be too hard on yourself, Ketal. If even the spirits can’t contract with you, that just means you’re way too strong! Actually, you should be proud! But... if you’re really upset, I could teach you some secret alchemy that only I know!” Ketal chuckled. “Thanks, but I think I need to go back to the Spirit Realm.” Karin managed a wry smile. “I understand why it’s hard to give up, but... Ketal, there really isn’t a spirit you can form a contract with.” “That’s not it. The Spirit God told me they wanted to make a deal and asked me to come back.” That left Karin and Arkemis speechless. After several long seconds, Karin finally spoke. “Are you talking about Beatrice?” Arkemis whispered, almost afraid to say the name. Ketal nodded. “Yeah.” “Wait just a moment.” Arkemis raised her hand in shock, staring at Ketal with wide eyes. “You... You actually met the Spirit God?” “That’s right. They came to see me personally.” “Excuse me, but... what do you mean by that, exactly?” Karin asked him, trying to stay calm. “I mean exactly what I said,” Ketal replied. “I met the Spirit God.” “Could you tell us what happened, in detail?” Karin pressed. So Ketal explained—how, in the Spirit Realm, he’d met Fiego, the Legendary spirit of fire, and learned from it why he couldn’t form a contract. How, in the midst of his disappointment, the Spirit God themselves had come to him. By the time he finished, Karin looked as if she’d forgotten how to breathe. “So, Beatrice not only showed themselves but sought you out? Is that even possible?” “I take it that’s rare?” Ketal asked her. “Rare?!” Karin nearly shouted, completely forgetting to keep her composure. “The Spirit God never reveals themselves in the Spirit Realm, let alone to meet with a single individual! There’s simply no precedent for this!” Beatrice was the beginning and origin of all spirits. Not so much an individual being as an incarnation of nature itself. They governed the entirety of the Spirit Realm—a presence so vast, so essential, that merely appearing could send the whole realm into turmoil. Normally, they dissolved into the world, becoming part of nature, and observed in silence. The idea of them taking physical form, just to meet someone, was unheard of. Even Karin, who was contracted to the Spirit King, had never seen or spoken with the Spirit God before. “So that explains their odd way of speaking,” Ketal mused, sounding genuinely interested. “They probably don’t get many chances to talk to people.” His blithe attitude left Karin speechless. “You’re certain it wasn’t the Spirit King you met? It really was Beatrice?” she asked him. “It was definitely Beatrice. The Spirit King’s presence is nothing like that.” “Oh, my...” Karin pressed a hand to her forehead, struggling to process what she’d just heard. After a moment, she asked in a trembling voice, “Did they say why they wanted to see you?” “They said they wanted to make a deal.” “A... deal?” Karin repeated, unable to help herself. The idea of the Spirit God striking a bargain with a mortal was so ludicrous that she could only laugh. “What kind of deal?” “I was just about to find out when I ran out of Myst,” Ketal admitted. “So that’s why you said you have to go back to the Spirit Realm...” “If it’s not, we’ll make it possible,” Karin replied, determined. If the Spirit God had shown themselves and requested a meeting, this was far from normal. Something enormous was at stake, and as an elf, Karin could hardly stand by and do nothing. “I’ll make arrangements immediately. Ketal, please rest and recover as much Myst as you can. If you wish, I’ll escort you to our sanctum.” “I’d appreciate that,” Ketal said, smiling. That night, Ketal rested in the elves’ sanctum—a place of incredible beauty, saturated with Myst. There, his Myst returned to him more quickly than anywhere else. Content originally comes from novel⦿fire.net The following day, Ketal met Karin again. She had finished her preparations, and without delay, opened the path to the Spirit Realm once more. Ketal stepped back into the world between worlds, and there Beatrice was, waiting for him. “Sorry to keep you waiting,” Ketal apologized. “No need,” Beatrice replied., “So, what is this deal you wanted to discuss?” Beatrice answered. “You wish to form a contract with a spirit. But it is impossible.” Ketal knew it well. The weaker spirits couldn’t withstand his presence; the strongest spirits demanded more Myst than he could possibly offer. The only way to increase his Myst to the required level would be to consume the Dragon Heart—an impossibility. However, Beatrice’s next words stunned him. “I will make it possible.” “You mean, you’ll let me form a contract with a spirit?” “Is that even possible?” “I am the master of this place.” Their voice was calm, but the certainty in it was absolute. “Do you wish for a contract?” “Of course I do!” Ketal’s face lit up with excitement. He’d been on the verge of giving up, and now, suddenly, it was within reach. There was no hesitation in his answer. “I accept!” “Strange,” Beatrice murmured, as if puzzled. “Those from the Inside are enemies of the world. Yet you seek a contract with a spirit. You wish to bargain with me. I cannot comprehend.” . “That’s the fun of life, isn’t it? If everything went according to plan, there’d be no excitement,” Ketal said, chuckling. “I’ll accept your offer. What are your terms?” “Simple,” Beatrice said.” Defend Elfo Sagrado. Protect the World Tree. Repel all enemies. “What?” Ketal’s eyes went wide. Meanwhile, at the outskirts of the sacred ground, the elven guard maintained their patrols. Their vigilance was hardly at its peak—just a few days ago, Karin had dispatched a force of dark mages with nothing more than three snaps of her fingers. As long as the Queen watched over them, no enemy could approach the sacred ground. That sense of invincibility was etched into the minds of every elf. However, as the patrol continued in its lazy rhythm, the captain of the guard—Ash—suddenly raised a hand. “Wait. Enemies are approaching.” The other guards scrambled to ready their bows. “An attack, sir?” “Yes, but... something’s wrong.” Ash squinted, peering into the depths of the forest. A group of dark mages was drawing near, but they were not alone. Behind them moved countless figures—hundreds at least. When Ash got a look at their faces, his blood ran cold. “Our kin....” Dozens of elves were being held captive by the dark mages. And not just elves—there were also humans, perhaps hundreds, dressed in noble attire, hostages one and all. “They plan to use the hostages to threaten us,” Ash growled. “Hold your positions. I’ll inform the Queen.” Ash turned and sprinted toward the World Tree. At that moment, the dark mages made their move, drawing their blades and raising them high. Ash stopped dead in his tracks. He had assumed the dark mages would use the hostages as leverage to attack the sacred ground, but he was wrong. Instead, the dark mages killed every last one of them. “W-what are they—?” Ash stammered. “O, great darkness...” “O, O mighty darkness...” “O, devourer of space, monster that rends the world asunder...” The dark mages began to chant. It was a spell of purest darkness. They offered up the bodies of their victims—and their own lives—in a ritual of unfathomable scale. Ash felt his skin crawl. He could feel it—a vast, malignant force gathering, something any creature of the earth would recognize as an evil that should not exist. This ritual was meant to call forth things that had been banished from the mortal world, to allow them to crawl back up from the depths. “Descend upon this world.” The ground beneath the victims began to twist and churn, swirling like a vortex. Corpses and dark mages alike were sucked together, their forms merging and warping in grotesque fashion. It was as if someone had grabbed the very fabric of space and crushed it like a sheet of paper. And then, with a sound like the world itself splitting open, the warped space exploded outward. The faces of the elves turned ashen. The space that had opened was unnatural—something wholly other. It was not a summoning circle meant to call a demon to the world. It was a corridor of darkness—a gateway between Hell and the Mortal Realm. It was a path of sin, opened so that beings of Hell could make their way to this world. That alone would have been terrible enough. However, the far greater problem was the sheer size of it. The infernal gateway was as large as a small mountain. The shadow it cast was enough to cover the entire sacred ground of the elves. Every elf could feel it, deep in their bones, that the forest was now linked to Hell itself. A massive, unblinking eye opened within the corridor, its gaze sweeping across the world.