novelraw Chapter 211: Their Sin Eater.
Chapter 211: Their Sin Eater.
Soren had heard Alejandro’s words clearly.
A generation of Saintesses? That’s only possible if she is...
Soren’s gaze moved to Sophia.
He frowned.
The power of a Shade was bound to just the Soulbound warrior that bonded with the Shade.
Unless, if by some miracle, the Shade and the Soulbound warrior had made a Bloodline Bond.
Meaning that the Shade’s ability can be passed from one generation to the other.
Yes.
Alejandro was aware. But how did he even know such an important information?
After all, even if a Soulbound warrior had such a bond, they won’t let any other person know.
Don Alejandro leaned in, his voice dropping to a silken whisper that barely reached the ears of the three cadets.
"Unless you agree, of course, to sign a Soul Oath with me."
Soren’s jaw tightened. The thought of his life being tethered to a man who treated people like livestock made his stomach turn.
"Never," he spat.
Alejandro didn’t even blink. He simply clicked his fingers, and Enrique rushed to his side.
"Take our guests to a room where they can really sit and think about the weight of their decisions," Alejandro commanded, his eyes cold.
"By morning, it will be one of two things: either we are celebrating a wedding, or I am gaining a party of Soulbound warriors at the beck and call of the Los Elegidos family."
Several men in white robes stepped forward, their hands resting on the hilts of concealed weapons.
Without a word, Soren, Cynthia, and Polystar were marched through the manor and shoved into a windowless room.
The heavy oak door slammed shut, followed by the definitive clack of a turning bolt.
Within the room, Soren let out a string of curses that echoed off the stone walls.
He paced the small space like a caged animal, his mind racing through every scenario.
He even contemplated using his ability to restart tge day, but a bitter logic held him back.
Even if he reset, the fundamental problem remained: Alejandro had no intention of letting Sophia go, and they were trapped in the heart of his power.
Polystar slumped against the far wall, sliding down until he sat on the floor with his hands behind his head.
He let out a long, weary sigh.
"Don’t beat yourself up, Soren," Polystar said, his voice unusually flat.
"We tried. Most nobles wouldn’t have even given us an audience. It’s just... unfortunate. This man never planned on a fair trade."
Soren looked at the noble boy.
Clearly, he had given up.
Soren turned to the bed where Cynthia sat, the mattress bowing under her weight.
"Cynthia... did I do the right thing?"
A small, mournful puff of steam hissed from her helmet vents.
Soren nodded slowly. "Yeah. At least we tried."
Hours passed.
The silence of the manor was absolute until, deep in the night, Soren’s eyes suddenly snapped open.
His Blackfield had detected a rhythmic vibration in the hallway—the sound of light, hurried footsteps.
Polystar’s eyes opened a second later. They both scrambled to their feet, dropping into defensive stances as the lock clicked and the door swung wide.
To their utter shock, Sophia stood in the doorway. Her white gown was torn at the hem, and her face was pale, but her eyes were sharp.
"Hurry. Come with me," she whispered.
As they stepped into the corridor, Polystar’s eyes widened. The two white-robed guards who had been stationed outside were crumpled on the floor, unconscious.
"She’s been busy," Polystar remarked, a hint of his old smirk returning.
Sophia led them through a series of service passages to a heavy iron grate at the back of the estate.
"The entire town sits on a network of interconnected tunnels," she explained, her voice trembling slightly. "Its the way I, my brothers and my father sneaked in to rob Don Alejandro back then."
They moved through the damp, smelling darkness of the tunnels. After what felt like miles, they burst out through a hidden exit camouflaged by thick, purple brambles well outside the town walls.
In the distance, the bells of the manor began to toll—a frantic, clanging alarm. Voices shouting in Spanish echoed over the walls as the search began.
Vass and Bloodshine were already there, waiting in the shadows of a jagged rock formation.
Standing with them was an elderly woman with deep, sun-baked skin and eyes that looked like they had seen the end of the world.
"This is my Tía Maria," Sophia said hurriedly. "She will help you get away."
The old woman motioned for them to move, but as the group turned to flee, Sophia stopped.
She stood frozen, looking back at the silhouette of the town.
"What are you doing?" Soren asked, reaching for her hand. "We have to go!"
Sophia shook her head, tears finally spilling over. "I can’t leave, Soren."
"Don’t be stupid," Soren snapped.
"Even if you can’t join the party, follow us back to the Academy. We’ll find a way to break the oath. We’ll figure it out!"
"Thank you, Soren," she sobbed, the words coming out in a choked gasp. "Thank you so much. I have never lived the best life... but this is the first time anyone was willing to go this far for me."
Even Bloodshine, usually cold towards sophia, looked at her with a flicker of genuine pity.
"No, we are not done!" Soren barked.
"Cynthia!"
The big girl moved like a blur, scooping Sophia up and slinging her over her shoulder.
Sophia began to beat against Cynthia’s back, her cries turning into frantic screams. "No! Put me down! You don’t understand! I can’t leave!"
"I know about the oath, Sophia! We’ll deal with—"
Soren’s words were cut short by a sound that didn’t belong to a human throat.
Sophia’s scream transitioned from protest into a guttural, wet shriek of pure agony.
Her body began to writhe with such violent force that she slipped from Cynthia’s grasp, hitting the dirt.
They watched in horror as Sophia’s form began to liquefy and reform.
Glowing Neuralink runes flared across her skin like branding irons. Her face melted and shifted—for a second, she had the three eyes and vertical mouths of the carriage driver they had met.
Then, her skin turned grey and scaly, her limbs twisting into the exact deformities of the woman Soren had seen in the square.
"Run..." Sophia wheezed, her voice a chorus of multiple distorted tones. "Please... run!"
"The guards! They’re coming!" Vass’s voice cracked through the shock. He grabbed Soren’s arm, dragging him back. "Turdface, move! Now!"
Reluctantly, Soren allowed himself to be pulled away into the darkness.
They fled to a shallow, run-down shed miles from the gate. Inside, the silence was deafening.
"I thought... I thought the condition for her ability was the ’gift’ she asks for," Soren said, his voice trembling.
Polystar stared at his hands, his mind working at light-speed. "It’s both. The lower the rank, the more twisted the curse. It’s a balance of entropy."
Tía Maria leaned against the rotting wood of the shed, her voice hoarse. "It has always been this way for her.
For every soul she heals, she must carry their burden. At exactly 12:00 every night, Sophia suffers every mutation, pain or wound she took away that day. The pain... it continues until the sun rises.
Me Bebé... She is not just their Saintess. She is their sin-eater."