— Sealing the Boundary —
It was almost eleven when we reached the Borderline Bar.
The moment we stepped into the third-floor office, a wave of unnatural cold washed over us.
There, kneeling before the painting, was Liam's body— posed in a posture of worship, as if offering himself to something unseen. A grotesque, yet serene smile was frozen on his face.
Julian was ashen. "Boss... what do we do now? Call the police?" he stammered.
Jasper instinctively turned to me, his eyes clutching at a final shred of hope.
I glanced at Julian and the other staff members, their legs visibly trembling. "Send them away," I said, my tone calm but leaving no room for argument.
Before the words had fully left my mouth, the servers had already fled the room as if for their lives—all except Julian, who stubbornly held his ground.
"Master... I didn't dare move Liam's body," Julian whispered, his voice a mix of forced loyalty and raw fear. "Should we... handle it now?"
"No. Leave it as it is," I replied flatly. "You should go too."
Julian hesitated, looking to Jasper like a soldier awaiting orders.
Jasper's expression softened. "Rhan, Julian knows this bar inside out. He might be able to—"
"He can't," I cut him off.
Finally, with clear reluctance, Julian slipped silently out of the room.
As Jasper opened his mouth to protest, I added, "His constitution leans heavily toward residual energy. In a place like this, he'd be the first target."
Time was critically short. Without further explanation, I began the preparations.
I handed out protective talismans to everyone, then passed a coil of ink-marked string to Jasper. "Stretch nine lines across the doorway. Seal the entrance. Now. Immediately."
Next, I gave him a stack of warding sigils. "Every window, every door—paste these on all of them."
Luna had said the painting could move on its own, and we were at a point where yin and yang naturally shifted. The slightest oversight would lead to irreversible consequences.
Once the sealing array was complete, I took out the Lumin & Umbra Sigil and spoke without turning around.
"Alright. Now all of you, get out."
"What?!" The exclamation came in unison.
Selene frowned. "Rhan, you're planning to stay here alone?"
"Yes," I stated without hesitation. "You will leave."
"How can that be? If there's danger, we should face it together—" Selene's voice held a note of displeasure.
"Your presence would only be a distraction," I said, my voice turning cold and grave. "This isn't about pride. It's a fact."
Bella suddenly stepped forward. "Sir, let me stay. I can feel it... there's something different about my energy. Maybe I can help."
I was about to respond when—
the Heavenly Cross pendant against my chest began to vibrate and emit a faint glow.
---
— The Three Thunders Manifest —
Then, the sky tore open!
A violent clap of thunder struck, shaking the entire building!
I whirled around to face the painting—
It was trembling.
Not a slight shudder, but a violent convulsion, as if seized by some immense force. The frame itself seemed ready to wrench free.
"What's happening?!" Jasper cried out in panic.
A second thunderbolt followed instantly, its accompanying flash of lightning illuminating the office through the windows. The floor trembled as if struck directly.
The painting shook even more violently—a ghostly, pulsating green light began seeping from the head of Aya within the portrait.
"No good—she's releasing residual energy!" I shouted.
"Everyone, get out! Now!"
But then—the third thunder exploded.
A bolt of lightning seemed to strike the painting directly!
The entire portrait erupted in a blinding flash of golden light.
"Rhan—what is that?!" Jasper instinctively shielded his eyes, on the verge of losing control.
"The Three Thunders Curse," I muttered, my heart tightening. "The ancient Triple Thunder Invocation."
"What's that?"
"A forbidden art that uses lightning to resurrect the dead... to transcend calamity!" I had no more time to explain. It was already—too late to escape.
"Ah—the painting's on fire!" Luna screamed.
Indeed, the Portrait of Aya the Healer was now engulfed in crimson flames. The fire twisted and leaped across the canvas as if alive, hungrily consuming the artwork.
I stared into the blaze, watching the painted figure flicker, materialize, and shatter repeatedly within the flames.
My throat constricted. "She... is coming back. We miscalculated."
Selene gasped in horror. "How? It required 365 souls. There have only been 364—"
"I don't know why! Everyone, back up!!"
I yanked the group back through the doorway.
The next moment—
"BOOM!!!"
A blast of fire erupted. The shockwave overturned desks and chairs inside the office, reducing them to ash in an instant.
Liam's body was also consumed, charred black in the inferno.
A sudden, deafening silence fell, thick with the smell of scorched earth.
---
— The Painted Spirit Revealed —
Suddenly!
The entire building plunged into a deep freeze, as a wave of piercingresidual energy surged from the office.
And there, in the center of the room—
stood a woman in red.
She stood perfectly still.
Her golden hair was coiled in an ancient style, held by a silver hairpin from which jade beads trembled faintly in the gloom.
A sheer veil covered her face, yet it could not obscure her breathtaking profile.
Her red robes pooled on the floor, the silk rippling softly as if touched by an unfelt breeze.
She was beautiful. Unbelievably so.
Her beauty was unreal—
and instinctively registered as dangerous.
This was the peerless beauty from the Portrait of Aya the Healer. No wonder the emperor had been driven to obsession by a single glance.
I instinctively glanced at Kai and Jasper—both stood motionless, as if their souls had been snatched away.
Even Selene, Bella, and Luna were transfixed, breathless under her spell.
Then, the woman in red lifted her head.
From behind the crimson veil came a voice—hoarse, thick, and unmistakably masculine:
"Out... I am finally... out..."
The air froze solid.
Such devastating beauty... uttering a man's voice?!
Was this not Aya?
Before the shocking thought could fully form, the male voice grew more urgent, desperate:
"Where is Aya? My... where is Aya? Aya! AYA!!"
She—no, he—jerked his head around wildly, movements chaotic and violent, radiating a madness pent up for centuries.
He was not Aya.
He was the 365th soul, the one who had been lying dormant within Aya's form all along.
"Rhan... what in the world... what is—?" Jasper's voice trembled into incoherence.
Though whispered, the words were heard.
The being snapped his head toward us.
That gaze—
Cold! Devoid of emotion, yet brimming with a bottomless obsession. It felt like a blade against the throat, stinging the soul itself.
"Who are you? Where is Aya?!" He advanced, his fury a volcano on the verge of eruption.
The group shrank back instinctively.
I could only step forward, spreading my arms to shield them, and shouted:
"You—are Aya!"
The red-clad figure jolted to a stop.
He seemed to become aware of his own body for the first time—lowering his gaze to stare at the brilliant red robes draping his form.
He froze.
He swayed.
He shattered.
"No! No—how can... how can this be?!" He clutched frantically at the veil on his face, his voice tearing apart.
I said quietly to Jasper, "Bring a large mirror."
Despite the horror, he retained a thread of reason. He hadn't killed anyone yet, meaning there might still be a chance for communication. We had to seize that sliver of time.
Selene whispered, voice trembling, "What do we do now?"
"First—we see how he reacts," I replied grimly.
Soon, Jasper returned with a mirror about five feet tall. It wasn't as tall as the figure, but from a distance, it would be enough.
I slowly pushed the mirror to a spot about ten to fifteen feet in front of him.
He immediately grew alert. "What is that?"
"Something that will show you... your current reality." I secured the mirror in place.
The surface gleamed.
He saw himself.
The red robes, the veiled face, the feminine form... even the long, jade-like fingers.
His eyes changed instantly—shock, confusion, terror all twisting together in a horrific blend.
"Aya... It truly is Aya's body... I... how could I... how am I still inside her body?!" he howled in agony. "Then where is Aya? Where is she?"
His head snapped up, his gaze locking onto me.
The look in his eyes was fierce, venomous, desperate—as if he might tear me apart the very next second.
Steadying my breath, I shook my head. "I don't know where Aya is. But tell me your name. Who are you? I might be able to help you find her."
He stared, stunned.
His eyes bore into me, madness and clarity warring within their depths—weighing whether I could be trusted... or should simply be killed.
The air stretched taut to its breaking point.