novelraw Chapter 36: Soul-Loss Syndrome
Chapter 36: Soul-Loss Syndrome
"Welcome, Mr. Fischer."
Fieron's laboratory wasn't inside his manor but located in a separate building in the courtyard—a modest-sized structure with a sign above the door labeled Fieron Laboratory.
By the time the maid led Fischer there, Fieron had already taken off his suit jacket, revealing a leather harness system wrapped around his body—designed to support his prosthetic arm and gas mask. If not for the slightly unsettling gas mask, he would have looked like a refined Nary gentleman.
Even after tidying up, the room still felt a bit cluttered. At the back was a workshop-like space lined with large steam machinery. Toward the front stood two tall bookshelves crammed full of books.
Fischer glanced over them and quickly spotted a familiar title—one of his own publications: On Good and Evil: An Introduction to Ethics.
"Ah, that book of yours kept me studying for quite a while," Fieron said, noticing Fischer’s gaze and pulling down the plain, deep-red volume. "Especially your analysis of classical utilitarianism… Who would've thought that the author of such a wise work was still a student at the Royal Academy back then."
"I just compiled and connected what my professors taught. The credit goes to them."
Fischer saw the book was filled with handwritten notes—it was clearly well-read. Back then, while many scholars at the academy discussed ethics, no one had managed to compile a unified volume. So Fischer had spent a semester sitting in on every social science class, compiling notes from every professor into an introductory guide. The professors were pleased their views were preserved—until they got to the final chapter and saw Fischer’s critical annotations, which always made them huff and puff.
A lovable bunch of old men.
"Haha, Mr. Fischer, you're too modest. I'd love to discuss more ethics with you sometime. But for now, let’s focus on the disease we mentioned earlier… Rather than ‘Azure Frenzy,’ I prefer calling it ‘Soul-Loss Syndrome.’" "Soul-Loss Syndrome?"
Fischer pulled up a chair beside the desk. Fieron drew out a small stack of handwritten notes from under the desk lamp—Fischer noticed anatomical sketches drawn in pencil.
"How much do you already know about the condition?" Fieron asked.
"After the onset, the patient’s blood turns blue. They lose nearly all consciousness and become aggressive toward living... no, toward living humans. And their magic circuits disappear entirely."
Fieron nodded and handed over the notes. They recorded many patient cases in detail, largely echoing Fischer’s understanding. But Fieron had also tracked the patients’ activities leading up to their illness.
"You’re calling it Soul-Loss Syndrome. Do you subscribe to the theory that magic originates from the soul?"
"It’s not about belief, Mr. Fischer—it’s fact. Here in the Southern Continent, soul theory is widely accepted. At first, I thought their talk of souls was like the phantom spirits conjured at a circus… but one expedition showed me otherwise."
Fieron raised one finger.
"When I first arrived in the Southern Continent, I was an external scholar accompanying a research team. I got separated from the group and got lost in the wilderness. That night, as I was freezing to death, several glowing shadows of demi-humans appeared in the sky. They seemed to be speaking, but I couldn’t hear them. I thought I was hallucinating… but I followed where they pointed and found my team again by the river."
Fischer tapped his fingers lightly on the desk, deep in thought.
"But the most crucial part," Fieron continued, "was what I saw later. I saw those souls engraving magic."
"Engraving magic?" Fischer asked.
"Yes. They were casting warmth enchantments for the wild demi-humans foraging at night—keeping them from freezing. These souls had active magic circuits. In contrast, our patients lost their magic circuits entirely because, I believe, their souls had been taken—and with them, their circuits."
Fischer's expression darkened. Current magical theory held that the ability to inscribe magic came from one’s own circuits, believed to exist in the body—though unseen. But if what Fieron said was true, and souls could use magic, then magic circuits weren't in the body but in the soul.
That would explain why these patients lost their circuits entirely. The disease's real root wasn’t in the circuits—it was in the soul. The disappearance of circuits was merely a symptom of soul loss.
As their conversation deepened, Fischer grew more convinced by Fieron's soul theory. With years of experimental data and evidence laid out, Fischer found little room for rebuttal.
"If the syndrome stems from soul loss, then what causes a soul to vanish in the first place?"
Fieron raised another finger."Despair. Each patient experienced a major life trauma before falling ill."
"La Bachel—robbed of everything, his daughter violated and murdered...""Jack—his wife cheated on him, then ran off with his mistress and all his money..."
Fieron read aloud each tragic case."At first glance, they seem unconnected. According to conventional pathology, they didn’t come into contact with any suspicious items."
Fischer thought of the people he’d met in Korriri’s cave. Their maid had also succumbed to the illness, and before it happened, her only daughter had died working at a textile factory in Nary.
So that was it...
Fischer’s eyes gleamed slightly as he picked up the thread."The soul vanishes because the brain, consumed by despair, creates instability—allowing an outside force to seize the soul..."
"Exactly. That’s my theory."
"Then we have three big questions: how are the souls taken, who’s taking them, and why?"
Fischer studied the pathology notes closely. They had a hypothesis now—but the more he read, the more absurd it seemed. This wasn’t acting like a disease; it felt deliberate.
If there was an intelligent actor behind this, it could only be a human or a demi-human. But the human academic world hadn’t even confirmed the soul’s existence—so who could possess the means to extract it? As for the demi-humans, their current level of civilization made it even more unlikely.
Moreover, the cases reported by Fieron and Keken had occurred simultaneously across vast distances—thousands of kilometers apart.
Who could act across such breadth and pull this off? Someone like that could probably topple all three western nations with ease.
"Ever since humans started entering the Southern Continent in large numbers, I haven’t seen those soul-guiding spirits in the wilderness again..." Fieron said.
Steam hissed softly from his gas mask as he leaned back in his chair with a sigh."Who could possibly harvest so many souls from so many places at once?"
Fischer paused at his words and glanced up at him. But because of the glare from the desk lamp reflecting off Fieron’s glasses, he couldn’t see his eyes.
Why... why was he only focused on who did it? Why didn’t he care about the other questions?