Chapter 63: The Balance Within

  Eo’s tendrils slithered across Frid’s trembling body, delving into every aspect of his anatomy. Despite the grotesque damage the Old Magic inflicted upon him, his body persisted—an enigma of resistance and decay.

  Eo focused on the crimson fluid coursing through Frid’s veins. The cells were in chaos.

  Red blood cells—their membranes warped, losing their elasticity as they carried less oxygen. They were slow, sluggish, yet somehow still moving. The Old Magic had not fully consumed them, only twisted their function into something barely recognizable.

  White blood cells—desperation incarnate. They swarmed through the bloodstream like mindless warriors, attacking an unseen enemy, fighting against their own corruption. They weren’t healing Frid; they were sacrificing themselves in futility.

  Eo observed the way his body struggled—like a failing system still running, even after all logic said it should have stopped.

  Frid twitched violently. His lips moved in fragmented whispers. "Ah… Agatha… the blood… it’s singing… do you hear it? Do you?" His laughter was erratic, sharp bursts between gasps.

  Eo ignored him. Next.

  Eo’s tendrils pressed against Frid’s arms, tracing along the skeletal structure. The sensation sent subtle vibrations through the bones, allowing Eo to map their density, their weakness.

  Calcium depletion. The bones were hollowing out in places, eroded by the unstable energy surging through his marrow. Hairline fractures ran through them like cracks in glass—some fresh, some partially mended. His skeleton should have been collapsing, yet somehow, it remained upright.

  Eo pulsed a small amount of energy into the fractures. The bones reacted, not with healing, but with… adjustment. The Old Magic inside him was warping even his skeleton, reshaping his body in real-time to maintain functionality despite the decay.

  "Ahaha—!" Frid suddenly gasped, his head jerking back. His fingers clawed at his own arms, then stopped, frozen in fascination.

  "The bones, the bones!" he wheezed. "They don't break, they… shift, they listen! Lord! Do you see? Even my body kneels before you!"

  Eo ignored his ramblings.

  Deeper still, Eo examined the core pathways of Frid’s body—the meridians, channels meant to conduct magical energy efficiently. But instead of smooth, flowing currents, Frid’s meridians were shattered, tangled like snapped wires sparking wildly.

  The energy inside him did not flow; it lashed out, burning and healing in a cycle of self-destruction. The Old Magic had carved new paths where meridians had failed, creating a distorted system of survival through pure instability.

  Eo felt a small twitch of interest.

  He should be dead.

  Yet his body refused. It adapted. Not through healing, not through stability, but through madness—both in mind and in biology.

  "Lord… do you hear it?" Frid whispered suddenly. His eyes darted wildly, unfocused. "The current of my veins… the rhythm of my bones… the whispers in my flesh…" His breath hitched. "Agatha… Agatha, it’s beautiful. He sees it. He sees it all!"

  His laughter turned into choked sobs, his fingers clawing at the air.

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  Eo watched, unblinking.

  Then, a thought emerged.

  What would happen if I absorbed this Old Magic?

  The unstable, rampaging energy, left unchecked, was wreaking havoc inside Frid. If he took it in, would it become a part of him? Would it break him down the same way?

  Would it change him?

  The thought sent a ripple of something through Eo’s core—curiosity.

  He had consumed magic before. Mist, amber, the elements of water and fire. But this… this was something different.

  Something far more wild.

  Eo’s tendrils extended further, exploring the swirling chaos of Old Magic within Frid’s body. The energy was not like the simple elemental magic he had encountered before. It was disordered, like a wild storm ravaging the calm sea—untamed, unpredictable, and destructive.

  Eo instinctively recoiled from it, not out of fear, but out of sheer unfamiliarity. This was no ordinary magic. It had its own will, its own sense of purpose, and it was eating away at Frid’s very essence, his mind fracturing beneath the weight of its presence.

  Eo studied the uncontrollable surge of energy that had saturated Frid’s body. It radiated from his core, seeping into his cells and tissues like poison—corrupting, breaking, and rebuilding in the same breath. The very nature of this magic was chaos. It had no pattern, no discernible order, only a constant churn that destabilized the balance of life within him.

  The more Eo observed, the more his curiosity grew. What would happen if he absorbed this force? Could he control it? Or would it consume him as it was doing to Frid?

  A subtle pull in the depths of his mind urged him forward. Absorb it. Test it.

  Frid, unaware of Eo’s internal musings, continued to mutter incoherently. “Lord… yes, yes… Agatha, she’s coming back, I know it. I can feel her… she’s here, she’s still here… you see it, don’t you?” His voice was high-pitched, strained, as his eyes remained fixed on the air beside him. He didn’t even realize that his body had become a vessel for something far beyond him—something beyond even Eo’s comprehension.

  Eo’s tendrils hovered closer to the chaotic surge of Old Magic coursing through Frid’s veins. He could feel it now—the force that made Frid’s body tremble, the force that had torn through his body, wreaking havoc on his physical and magical structure. The very essence of this magic was raw, unstable, and yet… there was potential in it.

  With one final thought, Eo made his decision.

  He extended his tendrils to tap into the surge of Old Magic, pulling it slowly, cautiously. He focused, gathering the fury, the rage, and the chaos into himself. It felt like sinking into a boiling pool of liquid fire, like diving into a black hole. His essence rippled with energy, drawn into the wild surge that had so consumed Frid.

  For a moment, the magic recoiled, as if recognizing Eo’s presence. It pulsed violently, swirling with a frenzy that threatened to tear at his consciousness. But Eo’s focus remained unbroken. He wasn’t human; he wasn’t bound by the limitations of flesh and mind. He was a conduit, and he would control this magic.

  His tendrils quivered as the magic resisted, like a beast caught in a net. Yet Eo persisted, his body absorbing the energy in slow, deliberate increments. There was no panic in him, no fear. Only science, only understanding. He could feel the Old Magic, with its unstable essence, blending into his form, his cells, his being.

  The sensation was unlike anything Eo had encountered before. It was chaotic, yes, but also alive, full of violent energy and potential. There was a strange harmony in the discord—an unsettling symphony that resonated deep within him. He could feel the dissonance within himself as the Old Magic struggled against his control, but gradually, he began to assimilate it.

  Frid, caught in the throes of his own madness, gasped in a delirious reverence. “Lord… you’ve taken it, haven’t you? You’ve taken it… Agatha… she’ll come back. I know she will… please… Lord, make it stop.” His voice broke with a sob, the agony in his words clashing with the strange devotion he held for Eo.

  Eo’s awareness expanded as the Old Magic filled him. His body thrummed with new vibrations, new possibilities. The raw force of the energy wasn’t just chaotic; it was alive. There was intelligence in it, a will to be controlled. It could not be tamed, but it could be used.

  Eo felt his senses sharpen, his perception expanding. Time seemed to slow as the magic twisted and churned within him. The veins in his body pulsed with power, a newfound surge that had no precedent in his previous experiences. His consciousness stretched, and in the infinite chaos of this magic, he felt something new awaken inside him—a hunger, a thirst for more.

  His tendrils withdrew from Frid’s body, now fully imbued with the chaotic energy. Frid remained unaware, lost in his delusions, speaking to the air as if Agatha stood before him.

  But Eo knew. He could feel it now. The balance inside him had shifted. The Old Magic, once a destructive force, was now a part of him—a part of his being, his essence. It wasn’t just something to be understood; it was something to be mastered.

  And as the energy hummed within his form, Eo could only wonder—what would come next? What could he do with such power, such madness? And what, exactly, would happen if he absorbed even more?