Chapter 302: Lifting Curse Part 2

Adrian and Christine walked in silence through the quiet, echoing halls of Everhart Manor. Each step felt like a countdown, each heartbeat like a drum sounding the approach of something long overdue.

The sigil from the Goddess of Fate rested safely in Christine's hands, its unassuming form radiating no light, no aura — but Adrian could feel its presence, like a silent guardian waiting just beyond the edge of perception.

As they approached the reinforced doors of the containment chamber, the familiar cold aura of abyssal suppression spilled out from beneath the threshold.

Adrian's jaw tensed. Christine remained steady beside him, hands folded over the sigil protectively.

Just as Adrian reached for the door's seal, a familiar voice echoed from the corridor behind them.

"I thought we were waiting until tomorrow."

Seraphina stepped into view, her crimson cloak trailing behind her like flame in motion, a brow slightly raised in both curiosity and concern.

She stopped a few feet away, arms crossed, eyeing Adrian sharply.

Adrian glanced over his shoulder. "Change of plans."

She arched a brow. "That much I gathered."

"I had Christine commune with the Goddess of Fate," Adrian said, turning fully to face her. "She gave us a way to channel the Harbinger's power without risk of possession. A gift — once only."

Seraphina's eyes widened for just a moment before her expression cooled again. "No wonder you are in such a hurry then."

Christine stepped forward and held out the coin for Seraphina to see. "It doesn't look like much, but the goddess said that it will masks the soul and protect it from any attempt of corruption or possession from the abyssal beings. The Harbinger won't know it's even there."

Seraphina leaned in, studying the disc carefully before giving a single nod of approval. "Subtle. Divine craftsmanship at its most cunning."

Adrian turned back to the chamber. "Let's finish this."

Seraphina stepped up beside him, her palm glowing as she began to unravel the layered seals on the door.

One by one, the glyphs dimmed, and the air grew heavier with each barrier undone. When the final lock unlatched, the reinforced doors swung open with a low, resonant groan.

The room beyond was awash in a pale, sickly light.

The runes across the floor pulsed slowly like a heartbeat. In the center of the chamber hovered the crystal — the Abyssal Harbinger still bound tightly within, its corrupted soul flickering with intermittent surges of shadow.

Seraphina raised her hand, suppressing the entity further with a surge of divine-suppressant magic, locking down its strength just enough to prevent resistance — but not communication.

The soul stirred sluggishly, as if waking from a cold dream. Then, suddenly, it pulsed.

"You return… sooner than I expected," the Harbinger hissed, its voice distorted and wet, echoing through the chamber. "Couldn't wait to grovel, hmm?"

Adrian said nothing.

The Harbinger pressed on, slithering into speech with gleeful spite.

"It doesn't matter how many times you whip or burn or bind. The curse cannot be lifted by force or will or holy light. You must let me channel it. It's part of the fabric now. And fabric must be rewoven by the same needle that stitched it."

Its words came faster now, desperate to justify itself before another round of torment could begin.

"I told you before. There's no trick. No lie. I gain nothing. You want her saved? Then this is your only path. Refuse again, and watch her soul dissolve into ash. Flay me, burn me, grind me to nothing—"

"You talk too much," Adrian cut in coldly.

The Harbinger's soul flinched. "What—?"

"We agree," Adrian said simply. "You'll get your channel."

The chamber fell utterly still.

Even the runes seemed to falter for a breath.

The Harbinger's form flickered violently, as if shocked by the very concept of cooperation. "…You agree?"

Adrian nodded once. "We're giving you a chance to fix what your kind broke. That's it. One chance."

The soul was silent for a long moment, then slowly curled into a serpentine coil of black and violet haze, its tone suddenly soft — too soft.

"Very well… I accept."

Internally, the Harbinger shuddered in delight. A direct channel to one of them — a chance to twist, to infect, to leave a mark that would burn from the inside out. Perhaps not immediately… but eventually. Its prison might one day crack.

But what it did not — could not — see was the subtle shimmer from the sigil now secured beneath Adrian's robe. A fate-woven thread, impossible to detect, woven by a goddess who stood outside the games of mortals and fiends alike. The Abyss would find no purchase.

"Seraphina," Adrian said, his voice firm. "Let's move her."

She nodded. "The healing room is prepared. Isolda's been resting since earlier today. We'll do it there."

Together, the three of them moved through the inner halls, Seraphina leading the way with her staff alight in protection runes, while Adrian walked behind her with the Harbinger's crystal floating midair under a reinforced containment field.

When they reached the softly lit chamber where Isolda lay, everything was ready. She rested peacefully beneath a layer of stasis magic, her skin pale, her breathing shallow — but steady.

Seraphina reinforced the room's boundaries with layers of anti-corruption runes. A second containment circle was drawn around Isolda's bed, and the crystal was placed at its corresponding node.

Christine stood at the edge of the circle, hands clasped tightly as she whispered prayers under her breath.

Adrian stepped forward, removing his robe's upper clasp to expose the center of his chest where the sigil now lay flat against his skin.

He inhaled slowly, his expression unreadable.

"I'll be the channel."

Seraphina looked at him once, searching, then nodded. "Stay within the boundary. I'll keep the anchor link stable. Christine, maintain spiritual surveillance. Any sign of breach — you sever the link."

Christine nodded firmly. "Understood."

Adrian stepped into the circle and placed one hand over Isolda's chest — and the other over the crystal containing the Harbinger's soul.

"Begin," he said.

The ritual ignited.