47 Inspiration

H̴̢̻̲̞̻͚̹̱͇̒̀̃Ü̴̠̱͈͍͖̝̬̗̰̂̉͆̚͝N̷̲̟̺͔̭̤͎̆̊̎̚G̵̡̡̖͇̤͍̪̝̀È̷͎̂̾̐̀̊̅̈́Ṙ̵̨̨͔̪͈̼͙̘̦͖̖̜̠̱̇͋̑͛̀̉͑̆͘

That was what the soul felt. Not a physical hunger like mortals, but a profound longing, a yearning for something that had been absent for so long. It couldn't quite put a name to this craving, for it had no words or thoughts in the conventional sense. But it was an insatiable need, a thirst for existence, a desire to become more than just a wandering specter in the cosmic abyss.

As the soul drifted closer to the source of this inexplicable yearning, it could see the outlines of a city, a bustling human settlement nestled amidst the ancient forest. The city hummed with life and activity, its streets teeming with people.

The soul drew ever closer, driven by an impulse it couldn't comprehend. It had no body, no voice, but it was consumed by a silent hunger, an insistent pull toward this human city. What awaited it there, in the realm of the living, was a mystery. But the soul, driven by an unquenchable thirst for existence, was willing to find out.

The soul continued its ethereal journey, drawn inexorably toward the tribal city nestled deep within the heart of the ancient forest. As it drifted closer, the city's contours sharpened, revealing a place that seemed both timeless and wild.

The city was an assemblage of huts and wooden longhouses. They were crafted from the sturdy trees that surrounded the settlement, their crude but functional architecture blending seamlessly with the natural world. The narrow dirt paths wound through the city like a labyrinth, surrounded by dense undergrowth and the sounds of wildlife.

The city, it seemed ,was not a conqueror of nature but rather a part of it. Giant trees loomed over the huts, their thick canopies providing shelter from the elements. Vines and moss clung to the buildings, as if reclaiming them for the forest. The inhabitants lived in harmony with the land, subsisting on hunting, gathering, and the bounty of the surrounding wilderness.

Near the edge of the city stood a prominent structure—an intricately decorated shaman's hut. Its walls were adorned with bone talismans, feathers, and painted symbols representing the tribe's connection to the spirits of the forest.

...not that the soul knew any of that...

As it continued to wander through the city's simple streets, it was overwhelmed by a sense of primal connection. This place felt like a part of its essence, a resonance with the untamed spirit of the forest. Memories, faded and primal, stirred within its formless consciousness.

The thrill of the hunt, the rustling of leaves, the taste of wild berries—these sensations brushed against the soul like echoes from a distant past. It was a paradoxical feeling, for the soul knew that it had never truly been here before in its countless eons of existence. And yet, it couldn't shake the sensation that this place held a raw, primal significance.

The soul's journey through the tribal city was not aimless; it was guided by an unseen force, a purpose that remained tantalizingly just out of reach. It drifted past huts adorned with totemic carvings and observed as tribespeople tended to their daily tasks.

Amidst the heart of the tribal city, the wandering soul encountered a scene that seemed both sacred and haunting—a towering pyre, a monument to the passage of life into the embrace of the spirits. This pyre, unlike anything it had witnessed before, rose like an ancient sentinel, a creation of elemental forces and human reverence. It was a colossal structure constructed from rough-hewn logs, adorned with vivid red and ochre pigments. At its base, a circle of stones encircled the fire pit, and intricate carvings adorned the wood, depicting scenes of life, death, and renewal.

The flames within the pit danced with frenzied vigor, their flickering tongues reaching out hungrily. They cast an eerie, flickering light upon the solemn faces of the tribespeople who had gathered to pay their respects. The flames' warmth was tangible, radiating an inviting heat that contrasted sharply with the encroaching coolness of the forest's shade.

Yet, what stirred the soul more profoundly was not the pyre itself but the countless flickers of ethereal luminescence that surrounded it—the souls of those who had departed the realm of the living. These spectral wisps, translucent and shimmering, hovered like fireflies around the pyre.

The soul watched, its formless consciousness gripped by an overwhelming sensation—a visceral, insatiable hunger. It was a hunger that transcended physical need. It was a craving for existence itself. The souls surrounding the pyre radiated a vitality, a life force that beckoned irresistibly to the wandering entity.

As the soul drew nearer to the flickering souls, it could sense their essence—the remnants of life, the echoes of experiences, and the undying ember of consciousness. These souls were sustenance, fuel for its existence in this realm.

It hesitated, its formless essence quivering with both longing and uncertainty. It had never consumed the essence of other souls before, never experienced the primal act of feasting on the remnants of existence. And yet, the hunger gnawed at its core, urging it to eat.

The soul, driven by an insatiable hunger that defied its formless nature, succumbed to the temptation.

With a willful determination that radiated like a beacon in the ethereal realm, it extended an incorporeal tendril toward one of the shimmering souls. In an instant, it enveloped the soul, merging with it in a profound act of spiritual communion.

As the merging took place, the soul experienced an overwhelming rush of sensations and memories—the fragmented remnants of a life lived by the carpenter to whom the soul had once belonged. The soul absorbed it all—the scent of sawdust, the rough texture of timber beneath calloused hands, the satisfaction of a completed project, and the quiet moments of introspection beneath a starry sky.

In this merging of essences, the boundaries between two souls blurred, and they became intertwined in a dance of existence and experience. The soul found itself inhabiting not just its own consciousness but sharing the vivid recollections of another.

Yet, even as the soul absorbed these memories, its hunger only grew stronger. It craved more—the memories of others, the essence of their existence, the richness of their experiences. It was as if the act of consuming one soul had awakened a voracious appetite within it, an unquenchable thirst for the essence of life itself.

With each soul it merged, it gained a deeper understanding of the world, a greater appreciation for the intricate tapestry of existence.

The first soul it embraced was that of a seasoned hunter, a man of the forest who had stalked prey through dense thickets and faced the primal challenges of the wilderness. The memories flooded in—a heart pounding with anticipation as the hunter drew his bowstring, the triumphant exultation as a kill was made, the quiet reverence for the creatures he had hunted.

The soul's next encounter was with the ethereal essence of an old hag, her existence woven with threads of ancient wisdom and cryptic knowledge. In the merging, it glimpsed snippets of forgotten incantations, secrets whispered in the depths of night, and the weight of decades pressing upon a soul that had borne witness to the passage of ages.

A sickly boy's soul came next, and with it, the soul experienced the fragility of life. It was an existence marked by the ache of unfulfilled dreams, the desperate longing for a moment of respite from pain, and the poignant beauty of fleeting moments of joy amidst adversity.

Then, the soul encountered the vibrant memories of a housewife—the laughter of children echoing in a sunlit garden, the comforting aroma of freshly baked bread, and the tender embrace of a loving partner. In this merging, it touched upon the simple joys of domesticity and the profound bonds that bound families together.

With each soul, the entity's essence deepened and expanded, a kaleidoscope of identities and experiences converging within its formless being. 

But the hunger persisted, a relentless force that urged the soul to seek out more, to delve deeper into the tapestry of human existence. It craved the essence of life—the joys, the sorrows, the triumphs, and the trials. And in this insatiable quest, the soul continued to eat.

The hunger, once a mere whisper, had become a roaring inferno, driving the soul to seek out more and more souls to sate its insatiable appetite. 

"I want...𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗲..." the soul uttered

In the heart of the tribal city, amidst the flickering flames of the pyre, the soul embarked on a journey of voracious consumption, becoming a vessel of existence, an entity hungry for the essence of life, and an enigma within the primal realm.

But amidst the swirling currents of ethereal existence, the soul felt an inexplicable tingle, a sensation that sent ripples through its incorporeal being. It was as if an unseen gaze bore into its formless essence, an awareness that transcended the boundaries of the ethereal.

Instincts awakened by the souls it had absorbed guided its attention. The soul turned and looked around, or rather, its essence extended tendrils of awareness, searching for any sign of danger or presence that lingered nearby.

Yet, its spectral gaze found only the shifting shades of incorporeal entities, the restless spirits that meandered in the unseen plane. There were no discernible threats, no looming shadows to suggest malevolent intent. 

Still, the sensation persisted—an eerie feeling of being observed, of unseen eyes dissecting its essence. Uncertainty gnawed at the soul's formless consciousness. Should it heed this inexplicable warning? Or was it merely a consequence of its insatiable hunger, a phantom paranoia born from the souls it had consumed?

Ultimately, the relentless hunger won over its caution. The entity chose to ignore the unsettling feeling, dismissing it as an aberration of the ethereal realm. With an insatiable appetite that guided its every impulse, it delved back into its consuming embrace, savoring the memories, experiences, and essence of the souls it devoured.

The lingering sense of being watched faded into the background, overshadowed by the inexorable urge to satiate its profound hunger. Whatever had stirred its unease remained hidden, concealed within the enigmatic tapestry of the ethereal realm.

As the ravenous soul continued its relentless feast upon the spectral remnants of others, it remained entirely oblivious to the presence that observed it. 

An eerie, purplish glow bathed the observing soul, giving it an otherworldly aura.

This purplish soul hummed with an inexplicable resonance, a voiceless echo that reverberated within the ethereal realm. It hovered mere steps away, cloaked in contemplation. Its eyes, or whatever semblance of eyes they might have been, glinted with an unsettling curiosity.

Time seemed to stretch as the two souls coexisted, one sating its hunger, the other steeped in quiet observation. Finally, as mysteriously as it had appeared, the purplish soul dissolved into the fabric of the ethereal plane, as if it had never been there at all.

Unbeknownst to the hungry entity, the purplish soul had departed, leaving behind an unspoken enigma—an enigma that would linger, waiting to unfurl its cryptic implications at a time and place yet unknown.

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Negary pov :

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'God dammit...' I thought as I pushed the slobbering dog away from my flesh golem. It wasn't just the fact that I had a dog licking my face while I ,,slept,, that was annoying, but also the fact that I was YEETED out of my vision just when things were starting to get interesting.

I was becoming more and more sure of the fact that the soul I was witnessing was the thing that would later become known as the Seven Pointed Star.

I didn't know exactly how it turned into what it was today , but I had some ideas...and I would probably have some facts if I managed to watch a few more such visions.

But the most interesting thing was...that it felt my presence. Just like Eddard seemed to hear Bran's voice when the Raven was teaching him in the show ,the Star seemed to be able to feel my gaze...

And while this was good because it proved I didn't need to be the Three Eyed Raven himself to influence the past...it was also very , very bad.

Because If the past could really be influenced by someone as weak as me , with barely a month of training and a moderately strong soul...what prevented my enemies from doing it as well?

'There should be some kinds on limits on this thing' I thought, even though it was a hopeful notion. 

'Because if there are not...This world is very unstable' 

Still , this wasn't something I could change with my current strength so worrying about space-time collapsing would have to wait...

'Just in time' I thought as Leaf phased through a solid wall, her arms cradling an absurdly large pile of radiant white orbs, one stacked atop the other.

"I brought 100 souls!" She all but shouted, unable to contain her glee anymore. She probably felt like a kid in a candy store...what a weird metaphor to use when talking about souls of humans beings...

"Good , but calm down " I told her gently. "Bring them over here and let me sort out the useful ones"

"Of course..." She responded with a much more subdued attitude. Was it just me , or was she much more expressive then before? Did the prospect of vengeance help her regain some if her original personality?

'Eh , who cares?' I thought as I spread out my mana , gripping each soul tightly and trying to get an idea about it's skill contents. 

Unfortunately, most of them were useless for my purposes. They were just run of the mill people when they were alive , tricked by the society they belonged to that they will never amount to nothing , no matter how hard they tried. 

That they would always remain farmers , housewives and ordinary craftsmen or foot soldiers.

That excellence is something they lacked , and that they should bow to their circumstances.

That they should forget their dreams and allow their bodies to rot , all while drowning their sorrows in ale.

It wasn't their fault, not entirely at least , but that didn't diminish my visceral 𝗱𝗶𝘀𝗴𝘂𝘀𝘁 at all.

'The day they gave up was the day they truly died. These souls...are nothing but empty shadows of what they could have been...Well then...at least they will be useful as fuel for another's dream...' I thought as I beckoned Leaf to come closer.

As she drifted closer, a palpable excitement radiated from her being. Her eyes, gleaming with an otherworldly light, sparkled with anticipation.

'This is what you lacked, my poor friends...not talent , but drive...and the knowledge that failing is infinitely better then never trying at all...'

With meticulous care, I funneled the energy of the captured souls into Leaf's ethereal form. The process was deliberate and cautious, ensuring that the essence transferred was pure energy without any residual memories or fragments of the souls' identities. Each soul's energy flowed like a gentle river into Leaf, enhancing her ethereal presence without corrupting her own essence. It was a delicate dance, as I carefully stripped away any remnants of the souls' past experiences, leaving behind nothing but raw, untainted energy to fortify my servant's being.

As I completed the transfer of energy, Leaf twirled gracefully in the air, her excitement palpable. Then, with a quick flutter, she wrapped her spectral arms around me, pulling me into an ephemeral hug.

"Thank you..." she mumbled, her voice, soft and barely audible.

"Don't worry about it" I responded with a smile while stroking her wooden hair.

"Now let's go test out your new prowess, what do you say?"

"𝗬𝗘𝗦!"

And as I watched the blazing fire that seemed to emanate from her eyes from the excitement she surely felt , I thought about my own progress , and how I could improve further and faster.

And as we made our way towards the closest patch of forest , my thoughts drifted back to that soul I kept seeing in my visions.

'Nobody can absorb the memories of so many different people without going insane...So how did he keep his sanity?' I asked myself.

And the only answer I could conjure up , from my limited experience with souls...was splitting up one's own essence in multiple pieces...

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'Interesting....𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴'

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A.N : 

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"A strong mind didn't mean smart, it meant focusing on an objective, dedication.

"Constant hard work brings results." I muttered to myself.

Lifeforce was, in short, the absolute will to live. 

To endure. 

The certainty of being 'tougher' than anything the world could throw at you.

Armament Haki was about being certain about the result of either your attack or parry. 

I was sure that my next punch would break through the tree.

'No. It will break through the air itself'. I thought, winding myself up.

I breathed slowly, I inhaled, and

exploded forward, my fist colliding with the tree.

Something rippled from within."

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Stat sheet changes:

Reverse Soul Drain - novice(+)

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A.N 2 -

Hey there , friends! 

An new year of medschool is starting in a few days and I plan on learning like a motherfucker day and night , and so , I will not be able to post new chapters so often.

As such , I will try to stick to 3 chapters/week , with bonus chapters when I have time.

Also , I will try to post a bonus chapter (it might be shorter than usual) if the book reaches 200 power stones in a week , for the sole reason that I am curious if this milestone shall be reached.

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Another important thing is that I be cross posting on Royal Road because I plan on asking one of the authors over there to allow me to use their fanfiction as a stop in our multiversal journey

*Cough* Ghost in the city *Cough Cough*

Anyway , that would be all. 

Have a great day.

And don't forget to work hard!