Hearing the mocking voice echo from everywhere, Zoran felt his heartbeat pounding in his chest.
What had happened? It didn't make sense.
He couldn't remember.
The last thing he recalled was fighting Solomon in a [Soul Domain] battle.
A deranged laugh echoed and bounced from every direction, and Zoran felt nauseous as he watched his reflections all around him.
Some moved with a delay, others froze, and a few even moved before he did.
Zoran collapsed to his knees, sweat dripping from his face, splattering onto the mirror-like floor as he stared at his own reflection.
"Just... what is going on!?"
Clutching his hair with both hands, he screamed.
The reflection beneath him smiled, cold and sinister.
"You don't remember?"
No—Solomon's voice came from everywhere, but Zoran's reflection moved its lips as if speaking in sync with Solomon's words.
"Well, you lost, obviously. Right now, you're in my [Soul Domain]."
As Solomon's words sank in, Zoran's thoughts ground to a halt.
His lips trembled as he looked at his reflection, which stared back with a mocking grin.
"No... no, no, no. How? How can I lose? I am Zoran, Son of Ruin! The Apostle of Ruin!
Like a madman, he screamed at his reflection, shaking his head in denial.
"It wasn't supposed to be ... This wasn't written! The future wasn't ! How... how could this happen? Oh...
yes, yes, it's him... the prince. Prince Azriel Crimson! It's all because of him! If not for him, nothing would have gone this way!"
"You can't even take a loss like a real man, can you? Honestly, it's sad. But you should be proud of yourself—it's been a while since I've fought someone and nearly lost in a [Soul Domain] battle."
Zoran fell silent, his pale face reflecting his inner turmoil. Solomon's words weren't reassuring in the slightest, but the mocking tone continued.
"There are two main reasons you lost against me."
The reflection raised its right hand, two fingers extended.
"First. Do you know why I'm still a Grade 2 Saint instead of a Grade 1? One of the main reasons is that I've been busy mastering my [Soul Domain]. In such a battle, you failed to realize that not even a Grade 1 Saint could beat me. Not that anyone knows... and those who did?
'...That wasn't written... mastering his [Soul Domain]... it wasn't in the book!'
Zoran gritted his teeth as Solomon continued speaking.
"As for the second reason: your stupidity. When I saw you drink the blood of a Voidwalker, I was scared... scared it would do too much damage to you."
Zoran blinked, confused. Solomon elaborated.
"Sure, drinking the blood makes you temporarily stronger... physically. But that doesn't matter in a battle of [Soul Domains]. That was your mistake. By drinking that blood, you allowed a piece of your soul to become corrupted. I worried it would be too much, that the fight would be over too quickly, but luckily for me, you lived up to your name—Son of Ruin.
Even with that corruption, you put up a good fight. Unfortunately for you, that small corruption was enough to secure my victory."
Zoran's mouth hung open, his face a mask of shock as he mumbled in disbelief.
"I... I lost because of the blood... but the Supreme Archon gave it to me... How could I lose when he gave it...?"
A sigh echoed from all around.
"We are saints. We didn't reach this stage by luck. We clawed our way up that mountain. But somewhere along the way, you forgot that. You started indulging, relying on those gifts from your Supreme Archon. In doing so, you lost sight of your greatest weapon—your own body.
You grew too comfortable, too confident, thinking you were untouchable. But by relying on those tools, you slipped. And now, you've fallen off the mountain. You've reached the end of your climb, Heptarch Zoran."
Zoran could say nothing. He could only stare at his reflection, his expression dark and defeated.
"You can still fight, you know? There's always a way out of a [Soul Domain]."
Zoran shook his head, speaking in a hollow voice, his face bitter.
"There's no point. Escaping here would be nearly impossible, and even if I did, what then? I'd still have to fight you one-on-one... it's better to die than to let you use your [Unique Skill] on me."
A heavy silence followed Zoran's words. His reflection stared back with a blank expression.
The silence stretched on.
Or perhaps it was only moments—Zoran couldn't tell. The concept of time within Solomon's [Soul Domain] was so twisted, it felt like ages.
Solomon's voice returned, drifting from every direction. Oddly enough, Zoran's body relaxed slightly, though his reflection remained frozen, staring blankly.
"Well, that's no fun... Pathetic, really. Even though you're absolute trash, the least you could do is try and climb that stupid mountain again."
Zoran clenched his teeth, refusing to speak.
Solomon's voice had changed. It was colder, lower, and brimming with anger.
Suddenly, the sound of shattering glass echoed through the mirrored world. Zoran's heart pounded, more sweat trickling down his skin.
But he refused to look away, his eyes locked on his blank reflection.
"Even though you injured me, you gave up so easily. I never thought a human would come so close to defeating me in a [Soul Domain] battle—especially since you're no Sovereign. Perhaps I should seek out more Apostles to battle. At least I made Azriel my partner, and it's good to know he's one of them."
Zoran's face darkened at those words.
He couldn't worry about his siblings being hunted by this madman.
All he could focus on was the sound of glass shattering, growing louder and louder.
"I hate you, but I still have some respect for you..."
Solomon's next words came from everywhere, and Zoran's reflections—each one of them—turned their gazes toward him. Their eyes were cold, unfeeling, yet that wasn't what sent a chill down his spine.
It was Solomon's voice.
A voice that twisted unnaturally in the mirrored world, distorting as it bounced off the endless reflections.
It didn't just echo—it slithered beneath his skin, sharp and hollow, draining the blood from his face as the shattering glass suddenly ceased.
"I'll make sure to go easy on you."