ShadowBound: The Need For Power
Chapter 342 - 342: Sweeping Zone 8 (Part 2)

Liam lingered a moment longer, eyes fixed on the writhing hybrid still bound by thick shadow-chains. The creature twitched and spasmed, its limbs jerking like a puppet on frayed strings. A low, animalistic whimper escaped its throat—more beast than man now—as frothy saliva bubbled from the corners of its cracked lips. The root-like growths that split through its flesh pulsed erratically, glowing with unstable myst, the energy within flaring like a candle about to burn out.

"Yeah… looks like there's nothing left human in you," Liam muttered under his breath.

He stepped back just in time to avoid another sudden jolt from the creature. It hissed—a harsh, broken sound—before finally slumping forward, spent. Its muscles continued to spasm faintly, but there was no strength left in its struggling. It wouldn't be getting loose anytime soon.

Liam kept his gaze on the creature, narrowing his eyes. Then suddenly, the hybrid's glowing green eyes locked directly onto his, sharp and penetrating—like they could see beyond flesh and straight into the soul.

And something shifted.

"How dare you look at me with such eyes… you worm," Liam snarled, though it wasn't his voice anymore. His irises shimmered violently, turning deep purple. Aesmirius had taken hold.

His hand raised slowly, palm open, and in it formed a dense sphere of rippling dark light—an Umbra Star. The miniature black sun spun silently, its surface writhing like smoke trapped in gravity, ready to consume.

Just as he was about to release it, a lazy voice drifted in from behind, calm and unimpressed.

"What happened to not using dark magic, brat?"

The Umbra Star instantly unraveled into nothingness. Liam staggered, blinking rapidly as control returned to him. His breath caught for a second before he steadied himself.

"The hell's wrong with you?" Galen said as he strolled into the alley without a care, one hand buried in his coat pocket, the other holding a freshly grilled meat skewer that was still steaming. He took a bite, chewed slowly, and quirked an eyebrow. "Don't tell me that weakling gave you a migraine."

"No, it wasn't the hybrid…" Liam replied, exhaling. "The bastard in my head decided to take over for a second."

"The ancient one?" Galen asked without a trace of concern.

"Yeah," Liam said, rising fully to his feet now.

'So that sharp change in the air just now… it was the kid losing control for a moment,' Galen thought, expression unreadable. Then a slow, twisted grin crept onto his face.

'Interesting… I have to bring that thing out one day, force him to the surface. For my own reasons. But not yet.'

"You really need to work on keeping him in check," Galen said at last, taking another bite.

"I'm trying," Liam muttered. "But I think it wasn't random. He got triggered by how the hybrid looked at us. Like it was peering into his essence."

"You mean how it looked at you, since the guy in your head still shares your face, your eyes, your body," Galen said casually.

"You know what I mean. Stop trying to sound clever," Liam replied, deadpan.

"Sound clever?" Galen smirked. "Kid, I am clever. People write that on temple walls."

He stepped up beside Liam and gave the hybrid a small nudge with his boot. The creature flinched but didn't resist.

"Anyway, I've got a hunch why your tenant got so worked up," Galen continued. "Sylvathar—he's got a way of seeing through the eyes of his hybrids. Wouldn't surprise me if that moment was him looking right back at your little god."

"Seeing through their eyes?" Liam echoed under his breath.

"Yup," Galen nodded. "That's what Lucy said Ember told her. Makes sense now."

Liam's face darkened slightly.

'So now it's not just Sheila who's a target,' he thought grimly. 'If Sylvathar saw Aesmirius even for a second… he'll come hunting. A demon lord now breathing down my neck.'

He turned his attention back to the hybrid, something hardening in his gaze. Without hesitation, he summoned his longsword into hand. In one swift, precise motion, he severed the hybrid's head from its shoulders.

The alley fell silent.

"Well, guess I misunderstood the whole 'restrain the hybrid' thing," Galen said with a small, amused laugh. "Here I thought you kept it alive for me to question. Turns out you just wanted me to witness the execution."

"That was the plan," Liam replied, sheathing the blade. "But now that Aesmirius has been exposed, I figured there's no point keeping him alive. If Sylvathar really was watching through him, he knows now. I'm marked."

Galen paused and studied Liam for a moment. A low chuckle escaped his lips, tinged with amusement.

"You're a strange one, kid. Dramatic, delusional—and sometimes smart. But mostly just a kid."

Liam stared at Galen, visibly confused by how casually he was brushing off the situation.

"Seriously? You're acting like this isn't a big deal," Liam said.

Galen shrugged with a slow, relaxed motion. "Look, if Sylvathar ever decides to mark you as a target, it's not going to be anything like what's happening with Sheila."

He spoke like he was discussing the weather. "He wants her alive because of her light magic. She plays a role in whatever grand plan he's cooking. But you? You're a dark magic user. You're practically toxic to him and everything he stands for. He's not going to want you involved."

"Unless," Galen added offhandedly, "he decides to rip the dark magic out of you for himself and grow stronger."

"Extract my magic?" Liam repeated, eyebrows drawing together.

"Yep," Galen said without missing a beat. "But don't stress about that."

Then, with a smug grin, he gestured toward himself. "Getting through me would be a pain for anyone. That's your insurance."

"What, just because you're around I'm safe?" Liam asked flatly, not buying into the bravado.

"Nope," Galen said, smirking wider. "Because I'm around, everyone's safe."

Liam rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Doesn't change the fact that my life might be dangling by a thread now."

Galen shrugged again. "Kid, one day you'll learn to trust me. I haven't let you die yet, have I?"

He changed the subject just as smoothly. "Anyway, you ever stored a living being in your shadow before?"

Liam blinked. "No."

"Well, lucky you. Today's the day," Galen said. "Store that hybrid. Dove might find something useful in the remains."

There was a short pause before Liam gave a slight nod. "Alright."

He stepped over to the headless hybrid, raised a hand over the body, and focused. With a soft whisper of power, shadowy tendrils slithered from the ground and wrapped around the corpse. The tentacles curled like chains, pulling the body slowly downward until it vanished completely into the dark pool of Liam's shadow.

"It's done," Liam said.

"Great," Galen replied, already turning back toward the mouth of the alley. "Let's move. I found two extra hybrids nearby. Accidentally killed them, so you'll need to store those too."

"'Accidentally,' he says," Liam muttered under his breath, following behind.

They left the alley and made their way through the tighter veins of the central district. Eventually, they arrived at two other narrow backstreets. Just like the first one, these alleys housed freshly made hybrids—twisted, feral creatures who'd had no time or capacity to master their demonic energy.

Liam stored the other corpses as instructed, his thoughts running quietly behind his eyes.

Galen, however, wasn't so quiet in his mind. A question had been clawing at him, and now it refused to be ignored.

Why were so many newly-made hybrids, barely formed and clearly lacking control over their demonic power, being allowed to wander the city unchecked?

Galen's steps slowed, his usual swagger fading just slightly under a flicker of unease threading its way through his thoughts. Something about this situation didn't sit right with him.

These hybrids weren't positioned with intent. They weren't stationed for ambush or control.

They were loose. Worse—they were unfinished.

He kept silent for now, watching as Liam finished sealing away the second corpse. The alley settled into a heavy stillness, the only sound a distant, muffled hum from the city beyond.

Liam rose from his crouch, brows furrowed. "Is this normal? Finding hybrids this weak? I mean, if Sylvathar's as clever as the old legends claim, then… maybe this is part of a bigger setup. A diversion, maybe?"

"Could be," Galen said evenly, finally voicing the thought gnawing at him. "He might be working on something layered. Or maybe… he's testing something. But honestly, I don't think that's it."

"What if he's using them to gather intel?" Liam asked, stepping up beside him. "Scouting. Mapping out the city's layout. Figuring out our response patterns."

Galen gave a small nod. "Makes sense. If he really can see through their eyes, then he's getting everything—terrain, numbers, patrol routes. All without ever showing his face."

Liam's eyes sharpened. "Then it's likely he's already making his move for Sheila."

"Oh, he is," Galen said matter-of-factly. "Lucy mentioned one of his generals was sent after her. But since Magnus is with Sheila right now, whatever plan that general has? Probably useless for the moment."

He stretched lazily, cracking his neck. "Anyway, we've still got four districts to cover before we make it to Nimbus. If we spend all day chasing theories, my goal of wrapping this up by tomorrow's going to vanish."

He turned, already walking toward the mouth of the alley. "So let's get moving."

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