Chapter 73: Silas, I Missed You

Once inside my bedroom, I locked the door and pulled the curtains shut, blocking out the bright morning sun until the room was plunged into dim, tranquil shadows.

I climbed onto the bed, crossing my legs as I set the wooden box in front of me. Unlatching the brass clasp, I opened the lid.

Resting on the dark velvet was the spirit artifact.

It was compact, small enough to fit easily in the palm of my hand, carved from a dense, midnight-black stone that seemed to swallow the dim light around it. Intricate, hairline silver inscriptions—ancient, runic sigils—were etched across its smooth surface, glowing with a faint, rhythmic pulse every few seconds.

I picked it up, holding it above my head to examine the micro-engravings. As an assassin who had stolen, appraised, and neutralized dozens of high-value relics on past missions, I knew the distinct resonance of authentic ancient power by heart. This artifact had it—a deep, humming frequency that vibrated straight through my palm and up my arm. But...

How is something this small going to help me break the chains on Silas? I wondered, inspecting the sigils. It was supposed to be an artifact that strengthened a wolf.

Well, there was only one way to find out.

I lowered the black stone, placing it on the mattress directly in front of my crossed legs. I took a deep, steadying breath, letting out the lingering friction of the day, and closed my eyes, sinking deep into my mindscape.

My mindscape opened into the familiar, endless expanse of pitch-black water.

Resting flat on is belly in the center, bound tightly in massive, ethereal glowing chains, was Silas. My grey wolf had midnight blue flames curling from the tips of his fur. It lifted its massive head, its glowing, slit-pupil blue eyes fixing on me as I materialized before it.

He was still bound by chains, but this time, I could actually see him clearly.

"Silas," I whispered.

The black stone artifact didn’t remain in the physical world; its spiritual resonance bled directly into my consciousness. It floated between my palms, hovering above the dark water, the tiny silver inscriptions pulsing faster, humming at a sharp, piercing pitch.

"You actually brought something back, little shade," Silas’s deep, resonant voice echoed through the dark void, making the water beneath my feet ripple. "And a pure soul-class relic at that."

"Will it work?" I asked, my voice carrying no trace of doubt, only ruthless efficiency. "Will it restore your strength and break these chains?"

"Break them completely? No," Silas rumbled, a dark, dangerous grin pulling across his ethereal snout. "The seals bind my full power. They won’t let me release my full power, But this artifact has enough ancient energy to shatter a link. Enough to give you back a fraction of your true strength."

"Only a fraction?" I pressed, my brows drawing together in a faint frown.

"About 30%," he said, his blue eyes gleaming through the shadow of the chains. "You will not be able to fully manifest me yet, and you will not be able to shift into a wolf form."

"Then how do we break the chains completely?"

"A stronger artifact," he said simply.

I stood there for a beat, calculating the options in my mind. A stronger artifact... which meant I would likely need to get another one from Edgar. But what if he asks me to do something weird or push my boundaries again?

Isn’t that the whole point, though?

I recalled my long-term plan. I would draw closer and closer to Edgar until I became someone he couldn’t turn his gaze away from—someone indispensable to him. I would build that leverage until I could use his own influence to utterly crush Valentina. And if I ended up slitting his sister’s throat in the end, he would already be far too deep to abandon me.

"Alright," I said to Silas, letting out a quiet breath. "I’ll make do with just 30 percent."

I stepped forward across the dark water, reaching my hand out to gently stroke the soft, midnight-blue flames curling along his fur. 𝘧𝓇ℯℴ𝓂

"Silas... I missed you."

The giant wolf leaned into my touch for a split second, his low rumble vibrating straight through my chest, before his eyes hardened slightly.

"Little shade..." he called softly, his voice heavy with solemn warning. "You need to train more."

"Insensitive much," I clicked my tongue, rolling my eyes as I pulled my hand back. "Give me a break. I just got back from surviving a room full of arrogant Alphas."

Silas let out a low, huffing laugh that sent ripples across the pitch-black water. "Once we break these chains, you don’t get tossed around like a toy next time."

"I know. I’m working towards it."

I held out my hands, channeling my spiritual energy directly into the black stone artifact floating between us. The silver inscriptions flared with a blinding, incandescent glow, the ancient resonance reaching a fever pitch.

CRACK!

A sound like shattering iron echoed throughout my entire mindscape.

The black stone detonated into a stream of pure, liquid energy that slammed violently into the central chain binding Silas’s neck. The heavy links shattered into a shower of fading silver sparks, dissolving into the void.

Instantly, a wave of raw, dormant power flooded back into my soul.

My eyes snapped open in the dim lighting of my bedroom. A sudden wave of scorching heat rippled outward from my chest. A faint, ghostly shimmer of midnight-blue flame licked along the edges of my fingertips before dissolving into the dark air.

My pulse spiked, a steady, lethal rhythm thumping against my ribs as 30% of my true strength—my enhanced speed, razor-sharp reflexes, and heightened assassin perception—locked firmly back into place.

I flexed my fingers, feeling the lingering warmth humming beneath my skin.

I was far from full power, and I still couldn’t shift into Silas, but 30% was more than enough to handle spoiled high-society brats and even get me through the Tournament of Power, since there was no guarantee I would reach full strength by then.

Tactics, fighting sense, survival instincts... those were what would get me to the final stage, and I would claim that first-place artifact—whatever it was.