The creature swiped again.
Piers ducked—stumbled—scrambled backward. Each dodge more desperate than the last. Claws tore into stone where his head had been a second before, sending chips of rock flying.
"I don't know how to purify it!"
The ghost drifted closer, eerily calm and unflinching despite the violence.
"Then why did you agree to help me, young Master, if you possess no means to combat the darkness?"
Piers nearly tripped backward, rolling sideways just as claws raked the air where he'd been standing.
"Because you said you'd teach me!" He scrambled to his feet. "Not throw me into a monster pit the second we arrived!"
The claws missed his face by inches.
"I..." The ghost hesitated. "I may have acted... prematurely. Desperation clouds judgment, even for the dead."
"Teach me now, you useless ghost!"
The words tore from his throat—raw, desperate. His heart hammered. Hands shaking. Breath ragged.
Fear.
Exhaustion.
Panic.
But underneath it all—adrenaline. Pure, electric, alive.
[NULL SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
[EMOTIONAL RESPONSE: FEAR + ANGER + EXCITEMENT]
[THRILL RESPONSE: MAXIMUM]
[VOID CORRUPTION: 40% → 39% → 38%]
[HOST THRIVING IN EXTREME DANGER]
The ghost's expression shifted. Determination flooded his translucent features.
"Very well!"
And then—absurdly—he struck a pose.
One arm outstretched, palm open toward the creature. The other bent at the elbow, fist clenched with dramatic conviction.
A faint shimmer gathered around him.
"Spirit Wave!"
He held the pose, looking intensely serious.
Piers stared at him mid-dodge.
"...What."
"There! Copy me, young Master! Focus your mana—channel your intent toward the corrupted soul—and unleash the purifying light!"
Mid-dodge, Piers caught sight of the pose. He nearly lost his footing.
The yokai lunged again.
Piers barely twisted out of the way, hitting the ground hard.
"Are you insane?!" He scrambled back to his feet. "That's—that's ridiculous! There's no way I'm—"
"You must! There is no other way!"
Cornered, gasping, Piers spat through clenched teeth:
"This is so stupid."
He planted his feet, dodged one final strike, and—with sheer reluctance—mimicked the pose.
One arm forward, palm out.
One arm bent, fist clenched.
His face burning with embarrassment even as fear hammered through him.
He focused. His mana stirred, uncertain but responding.
"...Spirit Wave."
Flat. Deadpan. Absolutely done with this situation.
Nothing happened.
No holy light. No purifying fire. No dramatic energy blast.
Just silence.
Just Sweat traced his temple.
But Then—
The yokai froze mid-lunge. Its eyes bulged. Limbs locked in grotesque stillness.
From its chest, something tore free.
A pale wisp—writhing, reforming—taking the shape of a girl.
Young. Maybe thirteen or fourteen. Translucent, fragile, her outline flickering like mist struggling to hold form.
She hovered there—wide-eyed, confused, frightened.
But free.
The corrupted body collapsed behind her, dissolving into black smoke.
Piers stood frozen, one arm still outstretched, staring.
What... what did I just do?
The girl's soul drifted toward him—drawn by something. His mana? His intent?
She settled gently into his open palm, her form warm despite having no physical substance.
[NULL SYSTEM - CRITICAL NOTIFICATION]
[SOUL EXTRACTION DETECTED]
[ANALYZING ACTION...]
[COMPATIBLE ABILITY IDENTIFIED]
[NEW SKILL AVAILABLE: SOUL BINDING (UNIQUE)]
[DESCRIPTION: Bind extracted souls to physical vessels, preserving consciousness and preventing dispersal]
[ACCEPT SKILL? YES/NO]
Piers blinked at the notification.
A unique skill.
Soul binding.
He could... keep souls? Preserve them?
His eyes dropped to his belt, where the two milk bottles hung.
Then back to the soul in his palm.
That's... actually perfect.
"Yes."
[SKILL ACQUIRED: SOUL BINDING (UNIQUE)]
[SELECT VESSEL FOR CURRENT SOUL]
[OPTIONS DETECTED:]
ROCK (nearby debris)
MILK BOTTLE (2 available)
SKULL (corrupted remains)
Piers reached down and unhooked one of the milk bottles from his belt.
Half-empty. Still warm from being pressed against his hip.
He looked at it.
Looked at the soul.
This is either going to work or be the stupidest thing I've ever done.
He selected the milk bottle.
A soft glow enveloped both the soul and the container—golden light that pulsed once, twice, then merged them together.
The bottle grew warm in his hand. Not hot. Just... alive.
The milk inside shimmered faintly, and the girl's translucent form condensed, flowing into the glass like water finding its shape.
Piers stared at the bottle.
I just put a soul in a milk bottle.
That actually worked.
The ghost drifted closer, his voice trembling. "Young Master... what—what happened to her? Her soul—is she—did you—?"
"Did you purify her?"
Still dazed, Piers slowly held out the glowing bottle.
"Your daughter," he said slowly, still processing. "I think... she's in here now."
The ghost stared. His foggy eyes went wide, mouth falling open.
"In a... in a milk bottle?" His voice cracked. "That's—that's—" Unthinkable. Remarkable…"
And then—
A voice.
Soft. Muffled. Coming from inside the glass.
"It's... quiet in here." A pause, like she was testing the words. "Thank you. For pulling me out of that... thing."
Piers nearly dropped the bottle.
"She can talk?"
He lifted it closer to his face, peering at the faintly glowing milk inside.
"Uh. You're welcome. Girl-in-a-bottle."
The ghost was already circling, tears streaming down his translucent face—actual spectral tears that shouldn't exist but somehow did.
"Melia? Melia, my dear, can you hear me? It's Father! I'm here! I found you!"
"Father? Is that you? I… I can't hear or see you…"
The ghost's face crumpled. He reached out toward the bottle with shaking hands, but his fingers passed straight through the glass.
Piers glanced up.
"She's asking if you're there. Says she can't see you."
Ghost face crumpled as he wiped at his non-existent nose with the sleeve of his robe, making it worse.
"I—I can hear her, Young Master,"
Piers grimaced.
Still gripping the bottle, he looked at the ghost. Then the glowing container in his hand.
His heart thudded.