Bound by Darkness: Mastering the Immortal System

8

Chapter 8: The Act of Violence

As the first gray light of dawn filtered through the parchment windows, Sebastian scanned the translucent notification. Beside him, his young wife was already stirring. She rubbed her hands together briskly, whispering, "So cold, so cold," before reaching for her silk undergarments on the bedside table. She slipped them on beneath the heavy quilts before emerging into the biting air to put on her coarse cloth socks and outer layers. Standing before the bronze mirror, she began to comb her long, raven-black hair.

"It looks like the weather will hold today, Sebastian," she said, her voice clear and rhythmic. "Remember to take the herbs from the drying racks and spread them out in the courtyard to catch the sun."

"I will," Sebastian replied softly.

His physical strength had yet to fully recover. His legs felt heavy and weak, a lingering fatigue settling deep within his muscles. In terms of raw physical power, he was significantly weaker than Ellen. Though he had started their life together with a surge of momentum, after these past few days, he felt as if he were being slowly crushed—physically overwhelmed—by his wife's superior stamina and health.

"I hope more patients come today," Ellen murmured to herself. "The cold evil has settled into many bones after the heavy snows."

The door creaked open, and she hurried out to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. Outside on the mud road, the sounds of the night watchmen returning home drifted in. For two days, the bandits had not struck, and the dark shadow of the hijacked grain merchants was beginning to fade from the villagers' minds.

By the time Sebastian rose, a bowl of steaming noodle soup was waiting on the table. Ellen pushed a specific bowl toward him. "Eat this one."

Sebastian leaned down, catching the scent. This bowl was rich with the aroma of meat; diced cured pork floated in the broth. Ellen's bowl, however, contained only plain noodles and broth.

"Just make do for now," Ellen said with a small smile. "When the grain merchants return from the county seat, I'll buy more meat. You're far too thin, Sebastian. You need the nourishment."

In her eyes, Sebastian was fragile—barely stronger than a child. She often worried that if bandits ever truly invaded the village and they had to flee, she would have to strap him to her back and run for their lives. To her, he was her beautiful, blind husband who needed to be fattened up so he wouldn't blow away in a stiff breeze.

Throughout the day, Ellen sat in the front hall receiving patients, while Sebastian busied himself in the back. He spread the herbs, washed their garments in the freezing meltwater of the accumulated snow, chopped wood, and swept the courtyard. When he finally found a moment to rest, he focused on his panel: [Ancient Pagoda Visualization (Small Success 6/8)].

'Invest,' he commanded mentally.

The 6 points were funneled into the skill. The progress bar surged past the mid-point, transforming into [Great Success 4/16].

A wave of mystical revelation washed over him. Through his long nights of "dream-walking," he had finally achieved a deeper level of mastery. He had become like a veteran fisherman who had spent his life on a storm-tossed sea; he now knew exactly which weather conditions allowed for a safe soul departure, how to navigate the ethereal winds, and most importantly, how to return to his physical vessel without causing internal damage. Even though his physical body was still weak, he had learned to compress his "Night Travel" to minimize the drain on his life force.

'I can travel now,' Sebastian thought, his eyes opening in the daylight. He felt a sudden, electric anticipation for the night.

When darkness finally reclaimed Riverside Village, Ellen was exhausted from a long day of treating patients. She lay beside Sebastian, recounting the day's events—how four patients had come in with the same "wind-cold" ailment as Sister Cauliflower, and how she might need to venture back into the mountains to replenish her stocks. As she spoke, her voice trailed off into the rhythmic breathing of deep sleep.

Sebastian shifted himself toward the edge of the bed, creating a small gap between them. This wasn't out of coldness toward her, but because he knew that once his soul departed, his body would fall into a death-like state, turning ice-cold to the touch. He didn't want to freeze her awake and terrify her.

He waited until her breathing was perfectly steady, then closed his eyes. In his visualization, the nine-story pagoda rose from the void. His soul climbed the steps with practiced ease, reached the summit of the ninth floor, and with a surge of will... **he leaped.**

This was his first time performing the technique in the physical world. He looked down and saw himself. The vessel was as he expected: refined, handsome, yet painfully frail. Then he looked at Ellen. She wore only her silk shift, the moon-white straps tracing the curve of her ivory neck. Her face was a masterpiece of serene beauty, her hair spread across the pillow like ink on silk. She looked like a white plum blossom blooming in the dead of night. Sebastian felt his spirit swell with affection; in the physical world, she was a thousand times more beautiful than the pale sketches his blindness usually provided.

'I will protect this,' he vowed. 'No one will die. We will live through this.'

His ethereal form drifted toward the window, slipping through the narrow cracks like a wisp of smoke. He emerged into the night, where the biting winter wind felt like waves of ice against his spirit. He made a quick assessment: 'I have thirty minutes. Any longer, and I will wake up with a life-threatening fever.'

With that limit in mind, he began to glide through the village at the speed of the wind. His vision allowed him to see through the walls of every cottage he passed. He scanned the inhabitants, checking for any hidden malice toward his home. Most were harmless—strength [0~0] and affection levels between [50~70].

He was about to turn back when a set of data behind a distant wall froze him in place. Two figures were [0~0], but the third... the third had a strength rating of **[3~4]!!** In a village where the strong men had been taken by the army, a [3~4] was an absolute predator.

Even more terrifying was the affection rating this individual held for Sebastian: **[40]**.

'Who is this? When did I offend someone of this caliber?' Sebastian thought, his spirit trembling. He rarely left the apothecary and was always polite to everyone. Why was there such hostility?

He realized the malice wasn't just for him—it was for his household. He drifted toward the back door of the house. It belonged to Yuna. He slipped through the gap like a sheet of transparent paper and witnessed a scene of absolute depravity.

A small, wiry young man was pinning Yuna to the bed, subjecting her to a brutal, silent violation. Yuna's face was a mask of tears, but she was stifling her screams, her eyes darting toward the wall where her sick mother-in-law lay in the next room. On her throat rested a wickedly sharp dagger that glinted coldly in the moonlight.

Sebastian recognized the attacker. It was "Silas"(the eldest of the Silas/Ethan brothers from the Silas family)—the brother of the man who had visited the apothecary earlier asking if Sebastian had "fallen to his death."

In the middle of the act, Silas became reckless, putting the dagger down on the bedside table to use both hands. In that instant, his strength attribute flickered back down to [1~2] without the weapon's advantage.

Sebastian watched with a mixture of burning hatred and cold realization. Yuna had been targeted because she was vulnerable, and because she had shown she had silver by paying for medicine without haggling. If Sebastian had been the one dying in bed that day, would Silas have done the same to Ellen?

The thought sent a wave of frost through his soul. He had stayed out too long; the cold was starting to calcify his spirit. He had to return. With a final, lingering look of fury at the monster Silas, Sebastian turned and raced back to his home.

He dove back into his body and immediately began to

shiver violently

, his skin as cold as a corpse freshly pulled from a frozen lake. He burrowed under the quilts, his mind already spinning with a plan for vengeance.