She acted quickly, casting a binding on the Devourer. Then she draw a circle in the ground. Then she sat in the middle, cross-legged, and pulled out a single green leaf.
Plain. Ordinary.
Which made it extraordinary.
She let it float, suspended by the air of her breath. Her eyes closed, voice calm.
"Has the humans discovered me?"
The leaf drifted left—No.
She frowned. "Was the body tossed here to restore the Devourer's soul?"
Right—Yes.
"Was this cell chosen by coincidence?"
Right—Yes.
Her eyes narrowed. She didn't believe in coincidence.
"Is the one possessing this body is human?"
The leaf didn't move.
A chill ran down her spine.
"Is the body possessed by a human?"
Still no movement.
Impossible.
"Is the body possessed at all?"
Still nothing.
She didn't frown. She didn't speak again for some time.
The leaf floated. Still. Useless.
Obfuscation of this depth implied either a masking force stronger than divine perception—or something outside the framework entirely.
"Is Ray aware of the Soul Devourer?"
Left—No.
She paused.
Then, slowly:
"Is a god involved?"
The leaf stayed still.
No answer.
That, more than anything, disturbed her.
If the gods were masking their involvement, there would be trace resonance. Echoes of divine touch. But there was nothing.
Not divine.
Not demonic.
Not fate.
Nothing.
And that... was terrifying.
Because if not a god, then what?
And why here?
Elli opened her eyes, staring coldly at the flickering soul before her.
This wasn't coincidence. She didn't believe in that.
She stood slowly.
Her expression unchanged, her voice flat.
"If it's an enemy, I will keep it near."
Her eyes narrowed, calculating.
"Until I know what it truly is."
Later she told the others that this Soul Devourer was different. Not dangerous—at least, not like the others.
She didn't say it to reassure them. She said it to buy time.
Whatever had awakened inside that vessel she don't know if it was a starving predator or something else.
And that uncertainty was more dangerous than any clear threat.
She wasn't about to let the others panic. Fear was a loud thing—easy to smell, easy to hear. And if whatever inhabited the Devourer's body was as powerful as she suspected, the last thing she wanted was to alert it that someone was watching closely.
***
When its eyes first opened, there was no rage, no thirst for souls. Instead, it looked around as though everything—its own body included—was foreign. Surprise. Caution. Even fear. All written plain across its face.
It showed emotion. And more importantly, it lacked arrogance. That alone made Elli narrow her eyes.
Powerful beings carried a kind of presence—an entitlement, like gravity with a voice. But this one… it hesitated. Wavered. Fumbled, even, like someone who wasn't aware of the situation he was in.
She didn't attempt to read its mind. Not yet. Not when the risk of offending it could draw attention from whatever presence loomed beneath its surface.
Still, she had to confirm it.
She took a careful step forward, her voice soft, practiced. "Hey. Are you okay?"
It didn't answer. Just blinked at her. Still wary. Still coiled like it might flee.
She took another step, more deliberate. "It's a lot, I know. Waking up like that. But you're not alone anymore."
What came next surprised even her:
"Where… where am I? Who am I? Why am I here?"
It wasn't faking.
Those weren't the words of a manipulator hiding in plain sight. That was genuine confusion. Genuine fear. Unless it was just that good at pretending.
Elli tilted her head, smile thin but real. "Don't worry—you're just in shock. Don't stress it."
She glanced around at the cell, then back at him. "You're in a dungeon called the Iron Mow… in the Vespara Domain."
Later, she wove a spell over the dungeon, clouding the guard's mind into thinking the Soul Devourer was just another ordinary inmate. As far as the guards and watchers were concerned, it had already been devoured by the dungeon—just another name scratched off the list. But why go to such lengths? Because if a dead prisoner was suddenly walking and talking, it would unravel everything. She needed to bury the truth before anyone started asking the wrong questions.
Days passed. She observed him closely. The human or something that had possessed this creature, it was clumsy. Weak. His energy was disjointed, his control poor. He couldn't even use spiritual energy. She'd tested him more than once—offering her own energy through touch, with the excuse of helping him recover. But she find nothing.
She couldn't read his mind, either. No matter how close she got, his mind remained locked. Blank. Like a door barred from the inside.
But one thing she did notice was how cautious he was. Always watching. Never trusting. When the other prisoners tried to approach him, he kept his distance. Always alert. Always ready to retreat.
She needed him to open up. And quickly. The longer he remained unaccounted for, the greater the chance that someone would notice the Devourer wasn't truly gone.
So, she took a step.
She offered him fruit, sitting beside him as though nothing in the world was out of place. Her tone was gentle, her smile even softer.
"No one survives alone," Elli said. "We all need someone to rely on."
It was a calculated gesture, meant to chip away at his guard.
And it worked—partially. He eased, just a little. Let the silence between them stretch without fleeing it. But it wasn't fast enough.
Yesterday's visit from the Paladine had changed something. She'd seen him try to interact with the others more freely, yet whenever she was near, he became tense. Guarded again.
She understood.
Izora must've told him about her—about what Elli could do.
He was watching her now. Calculating. Perhaps afraid.
There wasn't time for him to slowly warm up to her, not anymore. If things continued like this, she wouldn't learn what she needed to in time.
They would notice the missing Devourer. They would start looking.
So she took the risk.
She brought him here.
To see him, to test him, to decide—foe or ally.