The white light did not dissipate.
It was like a greedy behemoth, entrenched in the center of the laboratory, swallowing all the surrounding light and heat.
“Voom—”
The roar from the mana pump suddenly jumped an octave higher.
It was a sharp, piercing shriek.
Like fingernails scratching a blackboard, or the howling of countless restless spirits.
The ground vibrated.
Beakers and test tubes on the table shattered into a mess on the floor.
Antinoia was knocked over by the shockwave, slamming heavily against the wall.
One lens of her glasses shattered.
Ignoring the blood at the corner of her mouth, she stared fixedly at the dashboard.
The red needle was jumping frantically, hitting the edge of the dial with every twitch, making a crisp “click, click” sound.
“It’s overloading!”
Antinoia shrieked, her voice torn to shreds by the roar.
“The pressure is too high! The circuits are going to blow!”
“Shut the valve! Shut it now!”
Bell stood at the eye of the storm.
His bare upper body was scorched red by the intense heat, and sweat turned to white mist as soon as it emerged.
He heard Antinoia’s scream.
But he didn't move.
His bloodshot eyes were fixed on the Mithril skeleton floating in mid-air.
The soul was inside.
The ball of light wrapped in seven-colored radiance had already seeped into the hollow in the Mithril chest.
But this was only the beginning.
Rejection.
Violent rejection.
Mithril was a dead thing; a soul was a living thing.
The two were like water and oil, fighting frantically, tearing at each other.
On the surface of the skeleton, those originally smooth silver lines began to warp and crack.
Fine cracks appeared on the Mithril surface.
Like fine porcelain about to shatter.
“Not enough...”
Bell gritted his teeth, his gums bleeding.
Not enough pressure.
The force needed to shove the soul into the gaps between the metal atoms wasn't strong enough.
The mana flow was violent, but it wasn't enough to pierce the barrier between life and death.
“Bell! Stop! The pipe is going to burst!”
Antinoia pointed at the main pipe connecting to the Flame Demon Heart.
The specially made alloy pipe had turned a translucent crimson.
The liquid magic silver flowing inside was clearly visible.
They were boiling, roaring.
At any moment, they could break free and turn this place into a magmatic hell.
Bell turned his head.
He looked at the pipe about to explode.
Then he looked at the skeleton still struggling to hold on, which could disintegrate at any moment.
Stop?
Stopping meant all previous efforts were in vain.
Stopping meant Tia’s soul would scatter.
“Not only can I not stop.”
Bell’s voice was hoarse, carrying a chilling madness.
“I have to increase the pressure.”
He suddenly rushed toward the core area of the mana pump.
That was where the temperature was highest.
The very air was warping.
Antinoia’s eyes widened.
“What are you doing?! You’ll die!”
Bell was deaf to her words.
He reached out and grabbed the valve controlling the output power of the Flame Demon Heart.
“Sizzle—”
The sound of searing flesh.
The sound was faint, yet it was exceptionally piercing amidst the roar.
Black smoke instantly rose from Bell’s palm.
His skin carbonized, sticking to the red-hot metal.
But he didn't even twitch an eyebrow.
Pain?
He had long since become numb to that.
Compared to the pain of losing her, what did this bit of burning matter?
“Give it to me...”
The muscles on Bell’s arms bulged, his veins writhing like earthworms.
“Turn it to the maximum!!!”
“Crack!”
The valve was snapped off by sheer force.
It was completely locked at the maximum output setting.
The limits were removed.
The Flame Demon Heart went completely berserk.
“Boom!!!”
A visible crimson shockwave swept through the entire laboratory.
Antinoia had to put up a magic shield, pinning herself firmly into the corner.
It was too terrifying.
This wasn't mana output anymore.
This was like stuffing an active volcano into a pipe.
The violent mana flow surged through the pipes and slammed into the Mithril skeleton.
It wasn't an injection.
It was a bombardment.
It was a violation.
Using absolute power to crush the soul, knead it, and force it into every single metal cell.
“Ah—”
A piercing scream.
It wasn't Antinoia.
It was the skeleton.
That metal skeleton with no vocal cords and no throat.
It actually made a sound.
That was the soul wailing.
That was the excruciating pain of reshaping a body.
The skeleton vibrated violently, twitching as if on an electric chair.
The silver surface began to melt and flow.
Like living mercury.
They covered the cracks and filled the gaps.
Slowly.
The flowing metal began to deform.
Stretching.
Reorganizing.
It was no longer in the shape of cold bones.
Instead, it began to grow texture.
Silver muscle fibers climbed along the bones, interlacing.
Tight.
Powerful.
The plasticity runes carved by Balin were taking effect.
Mana was being converted into matter.
Though it was metal, it simulated a biological structure.
Bell knelt on the ground.
He gasped for air.
His right hand was ruined.
It was charred black, revealing white bone.
But he was still smiling.
Smiling so hard that tears came out.
“It worked...”
“Tia...”
“I knew you couldn't bear to leave me...”
The temperature in the laboratory began to drop.
More than half of the Flame Demon Heart’s energy had been drained, its light dimming.
The roar of the mana pump gradually subsided.
Leaving only the hum of the idling fans.
And the sound of dripping water.
That was the sound of water dripping onto the floor from a burst cooling pipe.
All eyes.
Were focused on the center of the laboratory.
The floating skeleton had landed.
It was no longer a skeleton.
It was a person.
A “person” composed entirely of Mithril.
No skin.
Only silver muscle lines, smooth and beautiful.
At the position of the chest.
The ball of seven-colored light was still pulsing.
It was clearly visible through the translucent Mithril pectoral muscles.
That was the heart.
That was the power source.
Antinoia climbed up from the corner.
She pushed her glasses, which now had only half a lens left.
Her hands were shaking.
Every magic book she had read in her life turned into scrap paper at this moment.
Is this...
The crystallization of physics and magic?
Is this...
A monster nurtured by love and madness?
“Tia?”
Bell staggered to his feet.
Ignoring the intense pain in his hand, he shuffled over step by step.
Every step left a bloody footprint on the floor.
He walked in front of the silver figure.
He reached out with his intact left hand.
Trembling.
Wanting to touch that familiar face.
Though there were no features.
Though it was only a smooth silver mask.
But he knew.
This was her.
His fingertips touched the cold metal.
There was no temperature.
It was hard.
Bell’s heart sank.
Did it fail?
Is it just a statue that can move?
Just then.
On that silver mask.
Two slits suddenly cracked open.
At the position of the eyes.
The slits opened.
There were no eyeballs.
Only two clumps of ghostly blue fire ignited deep within the eye sockets.
Leaping.
Flickering.
Those were the flames of the soul.
A backward glance from hell.
The silver figure moved.
It raised its hand.
The movement was stiff, accompanied by the faint sound of metal grinding.
That cold palm made of Mithril.
Gently covered the back of Bell’s hand.
It gripped.
Tightened.
The strength was astonishing.
It almost crushed Bell’s bones.
Then.
A voice.
Exploded directly in Bell’s mind.
Not through his ears.
But through resonance at the soul level.
It was a mechanical, cold, electronic voice without any fluctuation.
Yet it spoke the most tender words.
“Does it... hurt...”
“Bell...”
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