When Blackie hauled Ethan upright, Micah instinctively stepped forward to help steady him, acting before his mind could catch up to the danger.

SSSSZZZZT!

The instant Micah's skin touched Ethan's, a vicious sound split the air, like raw meat thrown onto a blazing grill.

"FUCK!" Micah tore his hand back with a strangled shout. His palm was a ruined mess of blistered flesh, skin peeled away and oozing, the cloying, sick-sweet stench of cooked meat rising from it.

"Heh heh…" Blackie let out a low, deeply satisfied chuckle.

"Blackie, you son of a bitch!" Micah snarled, cradling his injured hand.

Blackie had seen him reach out. He could have warned him. Instead, he had even slowed his own movement slightly, as if deliberately inviting the help. As a Black Qilin, Blackie's body was naturally resistant to wind, fire, water, and thunder alike. Ethan's scorching heat barely registered to him. Micah, on the other hand, had no such protection. That brief contact had almost peeled flesh from bone.

Hearing the insult, Blackie merely rolled his eyes. "My mother? Don't drag her into this. If you're looking for the real bastard in the family, that'd be my old man. And trust me, he's probably been a fossil for the last hundred thousand years. If you're in a hurry to meet him, feel free. Say hi for me."

With that, he shifted Ethan's weight and headed for the door. Blackfin, desperate to be useful, darted ahead of them, eagerly leading the way to his treasured icehouse.

They stepped into the frozen chamber, the air biting and sharp. Micah quickly slapped a couple of basic runic parchments onto Victor and Rainie, dulling the worst of the cold. As soon as the chill enveloped him, Ethan's rigid expression eased, just slightly, the deep lines of tension softening. Even so, the heat pouring off him remained overwhelming. Within minutes, the ice blocks closest to them began to bead with moisture, then drip steadily onto the floor.

Micah finally voiced the question weighing on all of them. "Why did his killing intent change? It went from something bone-freezing to… this furnace."

For once, Blackie didn't posture or joke. He simply glanced at Micah. "Look at your hand."

The reminder startled Micah. Only now did he realize the agony was gone. He slowly opened his palm.

Everyone leaned in.

The raw, burned wound had vanished without a trace. In its place was smooth, tender pink skin, newly formed and unscarred.

"What… how?" Micah stared, utterly baffled. Victor, who had been about to suggest that Micah's advanced cultivation explained the rapid healing, quietly swallowed the thought.

"Now focus on the aura around the Boss," Blackie said, frowning. He had clearly sensed it earlier. "There's something else mixed in with that slaughterous intent."

Micah narrowed his eyes and extended his perception toward Ethan. After a moment, his expression shifted. "You're right. There's another presence. What is it?"

Blackie shook his head. He couldn't tell either. Only Ethan himself might have understood it. Whatever it was, it seemed to be the violent collision between two opposing forces inside him that was generating such terrifying physical heat.

As they struggled to make sense of it, a sharp CRACK rang out in the icy chamber.

The Heart-Devil Shackle around Ethan's right ankle shattered, its luminous glow snuffing out instantly.

Before anyone could react, another CRACK followed. The shackle on his left ankle exploded into fragments.

The sounds came faster now. A third CRACK echoed as the manacle on his right wrist disintegrated.

"Oh no…" Blackie's eyes widened, dread crashing into comprehension. "The Boss… he's severing his own Heart-Devil Form."

Only then did he fully understand what was happening. The shackles could only break on their own for one reason. The portion of the soul they were designed to restrain, the manifested Heart-Devil within that limb, had ceased to exist. The only other possibility was that the true consciousness had fully awakened, but if the Heart-Devil had awakened instead, the shackles would have tightened, not broken.

"What does that mean?!" Rainie finally cried out, her voice trembling, thick with tears she had been holding back for far too long. Guilt had been crushing her in silence. If Ethan hadn't come for her, he wouldn't be like this.

"The Heart-Devil and the host are one," Blackie said quickly, his gaze never leaving Ethan. "Normally, you strengthen your core self and suppress the devil, grinding it down over time. Only someone utterly ruthless, or completely desperate, would choose severance. To sever the Heart-Devil is to tear away part of your own soul. And if it goes all the way…"

His eyes snapped to the largest shackle, the one encircling Ethan's neck. A deep, sickening fear surfaced.

That fear had barely taken hold when—

CRACK!

The shackle on Ethan's left wrist shattered.

Before the echo faded—

CRACK-CRACK… CRUNCH!

Fine fractures spread across the neck manacle like a spiderweb.

Blackie's eyes went wide. Every heart in the room seized.

"No…" he breathed.

CRACK-CRACK-CRACK—KABOOM!

The neck shackle did not merely break. It detonated, blasting apart into a storm of metal shards, far more violently than the others, which had simply snapped at their seams.

Blackie's cry was not for the loss of a priceless artifact of the Illusionary Qilin tribe.

It was because, in that exact instant, Ethan's head sagged to the side. The blistering, blood-red aura of the Slaughterer vanished completely, extinguished as if it had never existed.

The stillness that followed was absolute, like a roaring fire smothered in a single breath.

"Wh…" Blackfin stood frozen, unable to finish the word.

"Ethan!" Rainie's scream tore through the silence.

"Boss…?" Blackie whispered, stunned.

"Ethan…" Micah murmured, dread clawing at his chest.

"Ethan…" Victor's eyes burned red.

Rainie moved first. She threw herself across Ethan's body, heedless of everything else. Though the crimson aura was gone, his skin still radiated lethal heat.

SSZZT!

As her hands pressed against his chest, the stench of searing flesh filled the air again. Falling back on sheer instinct and training, she began CPR with frantic, desperate precision.

"You can't die! Don't you dare do this to me!" she sobbed. "Ethan! Wake up!"

She performed several compressions, then bent down, pinched his nose, and pressed her lips to his.

SSZZT.

Her lips blistered instantly. She forced a breath into his lungs and pulled back, the burned skin tearing as she separated from him, leaving a raw, bleeding line across her mouth.

She didn't hesitate. Didn't cry out. She returned to compressions, then bent again, trying to force life back into him.

Again. And again.

No one stopped her. They could only watch, their faces etched with a pain that felt almost physical. Victor, a man hardened by countless battlefields, felt a hot tear slip down his cheek. Micah bit down until he tasted blood. He didn't want to believe it, but he could feel it clearly. Ethan's vital force was dispersing, fading into nothing.

Blackie stood in shock. He had never imagined Ethan would choose Soul-Severance against the Heart-Devil, killing the parasite by destroying himself along with it.

"The Boss… he was afraid," Blackie muttered, the realization hitting him like a blow to the chest. "Afraid the Heart-Devil would win and use his body to hurt us. That's why he chose severance. Now I get it. The other energy mixed with the slaughter… it was Benevolence. The Boss somehow grasped two opposing Laws at the same time. No wonder the backlash was so extreme."

His eyes blurred as he watched Rainie destroy herself trying to save him. Jaw clenched tight, Blackie stepped forward and struck with precision, chopping the base of her skull.

Rainie's body went slack, collapsing silently onto the icy floor.

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