Death!
The thought reverberated through Luke's mind.
A sudden, blinding light flashed before his eyes.
He couldn't understand what was happening.
Confused, he tried to make sense of his surroundings, wondering if he was still in the same room.
Then, a strange, ethereal voice echoed around him calm, yet powerful: "You do not belong here boy."
When he tried to look in the direction where the voice came from, he managed to glance around hastily but he couldn't see the person who spoke.
Within seconds, a flood of questions burst into his mind:
Am I dead again?
Where is this place?
Whose voice was that?
I can't feel my body… is this even my body?
But suddenly, all his thoughts stopped.
He looked toward where the sound had originated, and with a polite expression, Luke said,
"Sir, I am Luke Raindal, son of Wilson Raindal from Eldia. I was refining my soul just a while ago, and due to some unfortunate event, I don't know what happened but I ended up here. Can you tell me where this place is, who you are, esteemed sir… and… am I dead?"
"Ha ha ha ha…"
The ethereal voice echoed.
"Boy, you're not dead yet—but soon, if you don't leave. And you don't need to know about this place or me. You'll eventually understand if you become a higher being. One piece of advice: don't ever reveal your 100th refinement."
When Luke heard this, a flood of questions surged through his mind.
Was he really going to die if he didn't return in time? A chill spread through him as fear crept into his thoughts.
He opened his mouth, about to ask how to leave this strange place.
"Leave, boy."
Luke returned to his room and immediately tried to sense his soul, which was still in the midst of the 100th refinement.
His body was drenched in sweat, his breath shallow, and his heart pounding like a war drum.
His soul had shattered reduced to an incredibly fine powder.
Panic gripped him as he poured his will into gathering it, trying to mold it back into shape.
But no matter how much focus or effort he used, the fine particles remained loose and unmoving.
Fear gripped his heart.
His mind kicked into full gear, trying desperately to understand what was happening.
Time seemed to slow—tic... tic... tic...
Inside his brain, where the soul resided, the shattered, powder-like fragments began to move without Luke's will.
His mind froze as he realized what was happening.
The soul was reforming on its own, shaping into a perfect sphere—something both physical and abstract crafted from the scattered remnants of his shattered soul.
It took almost two days for the soul to finally reform into a perfect sphere.
After completing the 100th soul refinement, without sparing a thought for anything else, Luke went straight to bed and slept for a long, long time.
After waking up, he placed a ration ball into his mouth, chewing slowly.
He sat on the stage and began to sense his soul, which was a perfect sphere.
After examining it, he took a moment to organize his thoughts, reflecting on the events of the past few days—events that had nearly given him multiple heart attacks.