"Ugh… Argh!!!"
Beneath a gentle sun and soft breeze, a brutal scene was unfolding.
Pained groans—and the occasional strangled scream—cut through the peaceful air.
In the middle of the clearing lay a boy, barely past adolescence, writhing while powerful, translucent chains of energy held each limb in place.
On any normal day he might have been described as handsome, but right now he looked more like a tortured soul dragged from the depths of hell.
His long golden hair and sharp, attractive features were smeared with blood. His skull bulged as if something were trying to split it open from within.
His elegant but large hands were raw and dripping as his fingernails peeled away. Teeth fell from his mouth one by one, replaced instantly by new ones.
But these external changes were nothing compared to what was happening inside him.
If his exterior still resembled a human, his insides no longer did.
Muscle fibers tore apart and reknit themselves, each iteration stronger and denser than before. His bones fractured and reformed repeatedly, as though his entire skeleton was being rebuilt from scratch. His organs shifted, adapting, hardening.
With nothing on besides a pair of boxers, the grotesque bulges and contortions of his transforming body were plainly visible.
It was slow, relentless—an evolution most would consider a blessing.
Yet—
"It hurts so damn much!"
Sol clenched his jaw, trying to swallow the scream clawing its way up his throat.
He couldn't pass out. Luxuria had made that clear.
When creating his core, staying conscious guaranteed the greatest possible enhancement to his bloodline. If he wanted every advantage, he had to endure every second without drugs, without numbing, without escape.
"Fuck… damn it…!"
He cursed silently, pushing through the agony while focusing on the reward.
Even through the torment, he sensed himself growing stronger—so strong that his yesterday-self felt like something he could easily crush.
He had never sought power for its own sake, though he wanted to surpass his father. But now… everything had changed.
War was approaching.
Weakness was no longer an option.
He had people to protect. He needed to become someone worthy—someone who could stand as a shield between his loved ones and the storm to come.
"Ngh—!"
Another wave of pain crashed through him, sending his vision spinning. His mind wavered on the cliff of unconsciousness, but he forced himself to stay alert.
Luxuria had explained that his bloodline evolution would occur in two stages: this one, and a second after he secured his first contract and met Tiamat.
But all of that depended on enduring the torment now. If he held out, Luxuria promised the second stage would bring unimaginable benefits.
So Sol clung to thoughts of the people he cared for, using them as an anchor. He bled, he trembled, but he refused to break.
---
Not far away, two women watched the scene—though they appeared more like young adults at first glance.
The first was unmistakably Edea, wrapped in her usual dress of absolute black, a garment that seemed to devour all surrounding light.
"I must admit, I'm impressed," she murmured. "I didn't expect to witness something this interesting. Perhaps I truly am getting old."
The other woman tilted her head.
If Edea embodied black and white, this woman was a walking embodiment of pink.
Pink hat, pink skirt, pink shirt, pink heels, pink gauntlets, pink hair, pink eyes.
So pink it almost hurt to look at her.
Her pupils—shaped like shattered hearts rather than circles—added a disturbing edge to her otherwise vibrant appearance.
"Freya, stop looking at my student like he's prey," Edea snapped, her worry for Sol sharpening her tone. Her heterochromatic eyes shifted, the pupils narrowing into diamond shapes. "If anything happens to him, I swear you'll pay for it."
Though she knew Edea wasn't joking, Freya simply raised both hands in a playful gesture of surrender, smiling broadly.
"Scary, scary. Looks like my dear sister has fallen in love again—this time with the descendant of her first beloved, who, if I recall, betrayed her. I wonder what Master will think when I tell her."
Edea's body tensed. Shame flickered across her face as she lowered her gaze. Freya's jab had hit exactly where it hurt most.
Realizing she'd pushed too far, Freya winced. She had lashed out because Edea had threatened her over a boy she'd only known for a handful of years—but she also knew she shouldn't have said that. As the eldest of their quartet of sisters, she was supposed to be the responsible one.
"Hey, I'm sorry, alright? I didn't mean it like that."
Standing a head taller, she reached out to ruffle Edea's hair, speaking more gently.
"You know how devastated we all were after what happened to you. Then you finally contact me, saying you're ending your exile—only for me to learn you've fallen in love again. Try to understand why I reacted the way I did."
Edea had no rebuttal. Their sisterly bond wasn't one of blood but something deeper—something unbreakable.
"I'm sorry too," Edea replied softly. "But I'm fine now. Sol is a good boy. Once you all get to know him, you'll see."
A warm smile touched Freya's lips. She hoped Edea was right. She had no intention of letting her sister suffer a second heartbreak. If Sol showed even a hint of repeating the sins of his ancestors, Freya wouldn't hesitate to kill him—even if it meant divine punishment.
Not that she feared retribution. With her abilities, she could flee anywhere, even create her own pocket dimension if necessary.
She was Freya Asmodeus. Kali surpassed her in raw strength, but among the four Ouroboros sisters, Freya was easily the most elusive and dangerous.
The Witch of Space—untouchable.
Looking away so Edea couldn't read her intentions, Freya asked, "So… how much potential do you think he'll gain from this?"
Under normal circumstances, Edea would have sensed her sister's darker thoughts instantly. But right now, her mind was fixed entirely on Sol.
"I reviewed every record Mother kept on S-class hybrids. What's happening here is unprecedented." She inhaled deeply. "No matter how powerful a hybrid is, they eventually hit a ceiling. A few lucky ones form a core, but that's the limit. Sol, however…"
She hesitated, frowning. She knew exactly why Sol could surpass every hybrid in history—but it wasn't her secret to share.
"Anyway, he won't just form a core. His entire physique is transforming. His talent will skyrocket."
Freya noticed Edea's reluctance but didn't press. She agreed with the assessment.
Magical races possessed innate magical ability, while humans gained abilities through their contracts.
If Sol managed to inherit the strengths of both…
Freya shivered with excitement. She was, after all, a witch—a seeker of knowledge. She had thought she understood nearly every mystery in the world.
But clearly, she had been wrong.