The humidity in Sector Four was enough to make one's bones feel rusted. Overseer Paul, with his massive frame and a whip reeking of dried blood, walked with the arrogance of an (Early Rank 1) cultivator. To him, the slaves were nothing but breathing livestock, and he was the butcher. He did not realize that the "livestock" he was hunting today had slaughtered gods in a bygone era.
"Five hundred years of experience against fifty years of stupidity... the outcome was decided before it began," Ether thought, pressing his thin frame into a narrow rock crevice.
Ether activated his (Spiritual Microscope). In his vision, Paul's body transformed into a complex web of frequencies. He saw the "Frost Raven" perched in Paul's collarbone; it was not a harmonious phantom, but a "parasite" struggling to survive. The raven sent unstable icy pulses, and Paul, in his ignorance, mistook this pain for a sign of power.
"Come out, you rat! I know you're here!" Paul roared, swinging his whip and releasing a wave of frost that shattered nearby rocks.
"The first rule of Spectral Alchemy: Do not attack the body; attack the connection."
Ether moved. It wasn't a run; it was a "glide" into Paul's blind spot. He threw a handful of (Strangling Weed) mixed with sulfur powder and a viscous substance extracted from a ground-rat's liver. This mixture wasn't meant for a direct kill; it was a "spiritual virus."
The moment Paul inhaled the dust, he choked. "What... my magic... my phantom?!"
The Frost Raven began to tremble violently. The virus Ether crafted had "spoofed" the brain's signals; it made the raven believe that Paul was an enemy trying to drain its energy. Suddenly, the tables turned. The raven's claws began to dig into Paul's lungs from the inside, and ice began to coat his heart.
Ether stepped out of the darkness, calm as the King of Death. There was no hatred in his eyes, only a cold, "evaluative gaze."
"Paul, you aren't dying because you're evil," Ether said, grasping Paul's shaking head. "You're dying because you are an inefficient 'resource collector.' In my equation, your existence as a corpse is more beneficial than your existence as a living being."
Ether drove his sulfur blade into the central "anchor point." Paul's scream never escaped; his vocal cords had frozen solid. Ether began the process of (Surgical Excision).
"Spectral Alchemy: Stage One—Deconstruction."
Under the light of the Spiritual Microscope, Ether watched the raven dismantle into threads of cold blue light. He didn't rip the organ out as an ugly mass of flesh like the cultivators of these islands do; instead, he "inhaled" the spectral genetic code through his pores.
BOOM!
Energy exploded within Ether's body. He felt his spinal cord turning into solid ice and his veins expanding to accommodate the new flow.
• Early Rank 1: Attained.
• Compatibility: 100% (whereas Paul's was a mere 40%).
Ether stood over the icy wreckage of Paul's remains. He felt no guilt, only the "satisfaction" of a scientist whose experiment had succeeded.
"Now, I do not carry a phantom... I am both the 'Raven' and the 'Human.' Arkon... your Eye of Insight will be my next meal."