Chapter 586: The Ghost Infant Parasites
Ethan’s eyes narrowed at the old man’s words.
"I wouldn’t dare?" His grip tightened around the man’s throat.
The old man coughed violently, gasping out, "Do you... remember a woman named Rainie Chen?"
Ethan froze at the name. His expression hardened, darkening in an instant.
"What does she have to do with this?"
A twisted smile crept across the old man’s lips. "I had no choice. You moved everyone into the Hidden Territory, so she was the only one left I could reach. Otherwise, how could I possibly control someone as dangerous as you?"
He had guessed correctly—Ethan’s grip slackened.
"Control me? The way you controlled Celeste?" Ethan’s voice was low, grim.
"What are you after? It can’t be as simple as keeping me on a leash." He lowered the old man slightly but didn’t release him.
"That’s none of your concern," Director Vaughn said, arrogance returning with the air in his lungs. "Open your Mindscape. Let me plant a seed in you, and I’ll release the woman."
Ethan gave a short, incredulous laugh. "Are you out of your mind?"
"You—" Vaughn’s face twisted as he prepared to threaten him again.
But Ethan didn’t let him finish. His hand shot upward, glowing with Soul Power, reaching for Vaughn’s face. "Soul Technique... Soul Scourge."
Celeste, standing nearby, understood instantly what was about to happen. Vaughn had overplayed his hand. Ethan’s temper was iron—unyielding, stubborn, impossible to bend. The moment Vaughn tried to use Rainie Chen against him, his fate was sealed.
"You wouldn’t dare!" Vaughn shouted, desperation breaking through his composure. Panic replaced calculation. "Ghost Parasites, emerge!"
At first he had tried bluffing, but the surge of Soul Power pouring from Ethan’s brow left him no choice. With a furious roar, Vaughn unleashed his trump card.
The air buzzed, thick with malice. From his body spilled a swarm of writhing shadows—Ghost Parasites, their forms black and twisted, each one dripping with hatred and resentment. They rushed at Ethan in a cloud of living nightmare.
Celeste’s eyes widened. "A Curse Caster..." Her voice trembled with shock.
She had thought she knew everything about Director Vaughn. After regaining her memories, she had investigated thoroughly, uncovering his past as both a Soul-Wielder and an Earth-elemental controller. That research had led her to Shadow Lynx Village, to Ethan, to the secret she had believed Vaughn was guarding. But never—not once—had she imagined he was also a Curse Caster.
Ethan, meanwhile, had never encountered such abominations before. The sight of them was enough to make him instinctively retreat, unwilling to let the swarm touch him.
But then his eyes sharpened. Among the writhing cloud, three stood out—three parasites that didn’t quite match the others. One in particular glimmered faintly, as if marked by some darker power. Its body was split by a pale line running straight down the middle, like it had been severed and crudely stitched back together.
Recognition struck Ethan like a blade.
"It’s you... the one who attacked us at the bathhouse! That was you!"
The memory slammed into him. He and Markham had followed a guy into that club, only to find the place smothered in ghostly energy. Markham had taken one look and backed out, muttering, "Can’t handle it. Retreat."
But Ethan had stayed. Using his Soul Sense, he had seen the club for what it truly was: a gaping maw in his Mindscape, filled with writhing spirits. That was when it had struck—an ambush of Soul Power, a parasite tearing through the fabric of his mind.
It had been back then, during the attack, that Ethan had first manifested the Twilight War Spear. The weapon had cleaved the ancient parasite in two, its light tearing through the abomination. But the price had been steep—draining almost all of his Soul Power, leaving him collapsed and barely breathing. Markham had carried him back that day.
Now the same parasite had returned.
"You know too much!" Director Vaughn’s voice rasped. Gone was the hollow, serene tone of a master. His voice now rattled like death itself. "Ghost Infant Soul Gathering!"
Ethan felt it before he saw it: the three strange parasites shifting, twisting, deforming.
"Waaah... waaah... waaah..."
The cries of infants echoed through the air, piercing and unbearable. The three anomalies warped into ghastly infant heads, each glowing with an unnatural light—one dark as pitch, another earthy yellow, the last a watery blue. The aura rolling off them was foul, yet eerily potent.
Ethan’s breath caught when he sensed the last one. The watery blue parasite carried a faint, familiar scent.
His eyes went cold. "You went to Ember City, how are you connected to Henry Joe? The Den. Jade Taylor. You killed her." He spoke each word slowly, like a blade grinding against stone.
Vaughn’s laughter split the air. "Hahaha... Henry Joe? He was my pawn. I had him wreck your shop, provoke you, set you against that red-haired fool! I thought that silly little love letter you wrote in high school was for her, but it turned out to be for someone else!" His face twisted with mad delight. "That girl was pregnant anyway. She had no use left. But then I discovered... she and the infant in her womb both bore charts perfectly aligned with the water element. Such a rare, perfect condition—how could I waste it? And so, I refined them into this! My Ghost Infant Parasite!"
He raised a hand toward the three floating heads, their infant cries rising. "What a pity... I’m still missing two elements for the full set. But even so..." His voice dropped, trembling with zeal. "Even with your Soul Power, Ethan, you’re nothing but food for my children. Good children, devour him! The weak Soul-Wielders I fed you before were scraps. Feast on this one and become unstoppable!"
The man’s arrogance poured out unchecked. His plan was plain: to capture Ethan alive, to use him like livestock, endlessly generating Soul Power to fatten the parasites.
Ethan’s rage ignited. His teeth clenched, every muscle taut. This was the one behind it all—the schemes, the ambushes, the blood spilled in his path. All to make him feed these wretched monsters.
"You damned old scoundrel," Ethan snarled. "Playing with dolls and thinking you’re the only one who knows how." His brow pulsed with light. "Yaya. Luna. Beastie."
Swish. Swish. Swish.
Three beams of white light shot from his Mindscape and took form before him.
Two were girls. One, small, clutched a silver spear almost as big as she was. The other, older, no more than fourteen or fifteen, held a willow branch glowing faintly. Between them stood a sturdy boy, broad-shouldered despite his youthful face, gripping a heavy seal.
"Oh, oh, oh! Three against three—we can fight!" the boy—Beastie—cheered, his voice booming. The seal in his hands whirled into the air and floated above his head.
Slap.
"Ow! Luna, what was that for?" Beastie clutched his skull.
The younger girl, Luna, had swatted him without hesitation. Hands on her hips, she glared. "Are you stupid? Three against three is boring. Master, hurry up and call out Aqua, Gale, and Oblivion too. Luna likes outnumbering the enemy."
Ethan blinked at her demand, thrown off balance by her bluntness even as the battlefield darkened around them.