Magical Soul Parade - Chapter 325: The Meeting

Chapter 325: The Meeting

The man swallowed hard with a dry throat. He looked at the closed double doors at the end of the hall and found that he was lost for words. He himself didn’t know how to explain what he had just felt either.

Helix reached the door first and pushed them open with a frown on his face. He had also seen the way the Preceptor had frozen up and his caution regarding Finn was now reaching a fever pitch, though he was able to maintain a front of composure due to his upbringing.

He stepped into the room and announced his arrival with a bow.

“I have brought the Ossuarist as requested,” he called out to no one in particular.

Finn stepped into the room and took in the space with a curious gaze, just as a voice spoke from the shadows:

“Thank you, Helix. You may go.”

Helix bowed again and took his leave. He closed the door firmly and left Finn alone in the room.

Silence reigned as Finn stood there to observe the surroundings. The room was a massive and circular library with a balcony that ran around the entire perimeter. He was standing on that balcony and he could see a lower floor in the center that was currently shrouded in darkness. Tall shelves lined the walls but they were mostly empty and sparse. The room smelled of old parchment and the sharp scent of fresh ink.

Finn began to walk along the balcony, looking at the paintings that were hung on the wall close to the door. He saw portraits of old Ossuarists standing with their children and descendants. They were family pictures that carried the weight of history. He recognized some of the motifs and realized these were likely the founding members of the Sepulchre Houses.

“Those are the first of the Sepulchre Houses,” the voice spoke again with a calm, dry tone. “House Thorne. House Grieve. House Sanguis… They are the ones who built the foundation of the world we inhabit today.”

Finn did not respond. He stopped in front of a painting of a man who looked remarkably like Cade XIV but with eyes that were even colder. He looked at the brushstrokes and the way the light was captured on the man’s robes before moving on to the next portrait.

“I apologize for the smell of fresh paint and the lack of books,” the voice continued as Finn reached the right stairwell that led to the floor below. “We are still in the process of moving our archives from the main continent. It is a long and arduous journey through the breaches and all the way here…”

Finn reached the ground floor and stopped in the darkness. He turned his head toward the center of the room. “Are we going to play this useless game of mystery the whole time? If you are too busy reading to speak with me then I would rather spend my time elsewhere.”

A soft chuckle echoed through the library and a spot in the corner lit up. A wizened old man was sitting at a heavy oak table with a massive book open in front of him. He looked up and his eyes were milky and clouded with age.

“I am sorry for being a terrible host,” the man said. “It is a habit I have grown used to after having not needed light to see for many many years. When you live in the shadows for as long as I have, you forget that guests often prefer the light.”

Internally, Finn rolled his eyes.

What a joke. Trying to sound sagely and mysterious for no reason…

As the rest of the lights in the room flickered on, Finn’s attention sharpened as a tall and ominous figure suddenly came into view, standing just to his right within his peripheral vision.

It was a humanoid soul mass, with a body and arms that were wrapped in linen strips covered in mysterious dark inscriptions. It held a massive sword between its hands and the point of the blade was resting on the ground. Its pose resembled a holy knight of some ancient order, but that was where all similarity to anything holy ended.

There was nothing holy about the aura this creature emitted at all. The evil radiating off it was thick and viscous like oil.

As Finn turned his head casually to look at it, he realized it wasn’t even human at all. Two large horns protruded from its head and curved outward before sloping down the front of its face to cover where its eyes should have been.

It had an extra set of arms that were currently folded over the hilt of the sword. It didn’t flicker like a shadow and neither did it have the signature black obsidian color of a normal soul mass. Rather, it looked just as solid as any other living thing.

Finn regarded the abomination for a moment and noted the complexity and uniqueness of it before he continued walking toward the old man. He pulled out a heavy chair opposite the table and sat down comfortably.

The old man chuckled again and closed his book with a soft thump. “You truly are not moved at all. Most people who see the Punisher Paladin find it difficult to maintain their composure.”

“I have seen many things that are more impressive than a four armed statue,” Finn said while he leaned back in the chair.

The old man smiled, and it was a look of genuine amusement. “My name is Jun,” he introduced himself. “Holder of the Transcendent Fragment of Pact. It is my will that binds this city together and my word that enforces the contracts made in the arenas below.”

Jun looked at Finn expectantly, his clouded eyes sharpening with a hidden and piercing intelligence.

“I have told you my name and my nature. Now what is yours?”

Finn nodded, then crossed his knee and clasped his hands comfortably, staring the old man dead in the eye.

“I am called Finn. Bearer of the abstract concept of Error… You seem knowledgeable. I need some information from you.”