My Soul card is a Reaper-Chapter 969: Encounter with Asgardians

He pointed toward the irregular black mass—the thing pulsing like a living organ within Azzy's soul.

Devorah lifted her hand, studying the mass in silence for several seconds before she finally spoke. "Actually, it is not dangerous. Not in the way you fear."

Azzy turned to her quickly. "Then what is it?"

Devorah said, lifting her chin, "That is the core of an Arcana spirit. In human terms, think of it as a fetus—unformed, formless, but full of potential. Except, unlike a child, this one can be shaped into any form you desire."

Azzy's eyes widened slightly. "You mean I can create an Arcana spirit… from this?"

She nodded. "Yes. Whatever shape you give it, whatever abilities you mold into it—it will belong solely to you. Of course, it is like a blank card. It won't generate soul skills on its own. You have to feed your own skills and knowledge into it. But then again, it is purely a mass of primordial death energy. You cannot feed other elemental techniques. Best to feed the Reaper's soul skill that you have possessed, or better to merge it with the Death Scythe to give consciousness to the Death Scythe, turning it from a soul weapon to a true Arcana spirit."

She stepped closer to the floating mass, her expression solemn.

"I also understand why you are seeing dreams of your past lives," she continued. "It is because when you merged with the Reaper's essence, but left behind that core, and now it seems to have developed its own consciousness. Because of that, it was affecting you. Until this mass is shaped into a completed Arcana spirit and detached itself from the Reaper, the remnants of the Reaper's memories—and the memories of every past life connected to it—will bleed into your dreams."

Qridus's eyes narrowed. "Meaning this may continue for quite some time."

Devorah nodded. "It could be days. It could be months. Until the moment the essence stabilizes enough to be molded… he will keep reliving fragments of his incarnations."

That wasn't comforting news—but it was at least an explanation. 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆𝙬𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝒎

Before Azzy could respond, Devorah added, "But right now, it is unstable. Very unstable. If you disturb it too much, it may rupture or corrupt the rest of your soul."

Azzy furrowed his brows. "Then what do you think I should do?"

"Seal your mindscape," Devorah instructed firmly. "Cut off your spiritual senses from here until the mass stabilizes. You will feel the moment the Arcana spirit is ready to be shaped. Until that time, do not force your consciousness into this space again."

Azzy nodded slowly, accepting the gravity of her words. "Understood."

"Thank you, Ancestor," he said with a bow. "Thank you, Lady Devorah."

Intending to sealing away his soul orb with the Decarune seal as they suggested, Azzy bid farewell to both of them and left the manor.

***

Meanwhile, back on Planet Gaia, in Genesis Country, the grand stadium stood quiet under the late-night sky.

Most of the competitors were asleep, resting for the storm of battles that awaited them.

On the third floor of the west wing—inside one of the rooms allotted to the Death Clan—four figures sat on the floor in a loose circle, a messy pile of UNO cards scattered between them.

"Draw four!" Rian Silver shouted with a grin, slapping the card down with smug satisfaction.

"Again? You're cursed," groaned Kale Haze, tossing his own cards onto the floor in frustration. "I swear, this game is rigged in your favor."

Across from them, the only girl in the group, Lyra Starlight, leaned against the bed frame, arms folded, watching the chaos with mild annoyance. Beside her, Noah Silver stared at his last two cards like his life depended on it.

"This is my chance," Noah muttered, eyes narrowing. "Don't ruin it."

Rian laughed. "Relax. Even if you lose, tomorrow's your real fight."

The game dragged on for another few minutes, boredom slowly replacing excitement. Finally, Kale flopped backward onto the floor and stared at the ceiling. "I'm starving. All this thinking made me hungry."

Rian's eyes lit up instantly. "Same. Let's go grab some late-night food. I heard the staff kitchen never really closes."

Lyra shot them a sharp look. "You're absurd. It's past midnight. Elder Yashna told us to stay in our rooms after curfew."

Noah hesitated, scratching the back of his head. "She did look pretty serious about that…"

Rian waved a hand dismissively. "Come on, we're not doing anything dangerous. Just food. We'll be back before anyone notices."

Lyra stood, planting her hands on her hips. "That's exactly how every disaster starts."

Kale sat up, grinning. "So what? If you are scared, you don't have to come with us. You can return to your room and sleep."

Lyra glared at him. "I'm cautious. There's a difference."

The argument dragged on in hushed voices—some insisting they needed food, others warning about breaking rules. In the end, hunger and an excitement for a night adventure won over restraint. Lyra let out a long sigh, clearly irritated.

"Fine," she said at last. "But if we get caught, I'm blaming all of you."

Rian pumped his fist quietly. "Deal!"

They gathered their things in a hurry, slipped their shoes on, and carefully cracked open the door. The hallway outside was silent. No guards. No patrols. Only the faint hum of the arena's systems echoed through the corridor.

One by one, the four of them sneaked out of the room and hurried toward the stairs—completely unaware that this small act of rebellion was about to pull them straight into something far bigger than a midnight snack.

The late-night café sat at the edge of the stadium's inner ring, lights dimmed but still warm, the counters glowing as a couple of robotic assistants were seen working. The smell of fried meat, sweet bread, and rich soup slipped into their noses the moment the four of them stepped inside. Their stomachs growled almost in unison.

But they weren't alone.

Six other teenagers were already seated near the middle, food spread across their table, laughter rising and falling in relaxed bursts. Their auras were calm but clear—Rank-5, just like them. All except one. That one sat at the center, his presence heavier, quieter. Rank-6.

Rian slowed his steps. Lyra's fingers tightened slightly at her sides. Kale glanced at Noah, and Noah swallowed.

They had all felt it.

The six at the table turned their heads one after another, eyes settling on the newcomers with open curiosity. The room went subtly still, like the calm before a ripple spread across water.

Rian took a breath and straightened his shoulders. "Let's not care about them," he said quietly but firmly. "We're here for food."