Rebirth Of The Bastard Spirit Summoner

Stark didn't move, not that he couldn't—he simply didn't want to do anything rash.

The aura she gave off was terrifying. Even greater than that of the banshees.

As someone affiliated with spirits, he could tell almost instantly, she was not of the living… she was long dead.

A spirit.

Albeit a bit different.

He did not know why, and he sure as hell wasn't sticking around to find out.

Step

Stark drew his foot back, taking a step.

Silence.

She was currently looking away from him. Just maybe… maybe if he was lucky, he would leave unscathed.

He kept his eyes on her as he moved step by step, quiet enough to not make a sound.

Even his breathing stalled as he retreated, and then when he was far enough, Stark turned around, about to increase his pace when—

The cave rattled slightly, and then large chunks of magic crystal shot out from the sides of the entrance, trapping him within it.

He turned back—

"Shit!"

His breath caught in his throat.

Right in front of him, not more than ten inches apart, was the spirit girl, staring right at him with unfettered focus.

She had no iris, just orbs, glowing a bright light; a mixture of white, lilac, and blue.

The tension was stifling.

Minutes passed by, with none of them moving, neither of them uttering a single word.

It was at that time that Stark noticed a few things he had not paid attention to at first.

First, although it was an odd thing to think about at a time like this, the spirit girl was beautiful—not the regular type of beauty, but an almost otherworldly type.

Her hair was silky, long, and pleasing to the eyes, and her dark skin was without a single blemish.

Not that Stark cared. He had far more concerns to worry about. Yet, every observation could potentially be his saving grace.

The strangest thing he noticed, though, was what she wore.

It was a military-style dress with a high collar and small slit at the bottom. It was a uniform Stark had seen a few times in the past.

Codex Fortuna Imperial College.

The uniform was beaten up and torn, and yet there was no doubt about it.

She was a student of the academy, or rather, she used to be.

How had she ended up like this? Knowing this might just be key to him leaving here alive.

Spirits rarely wandered far from where they died.

'Did she die here? In the evil forest?'

The thought of it made him sick to his stomach.

The spirit girl smiled.

"They must have sent you. To think they would let me rest in peace. I was foolish."

Her voice was soft and gentle, yet cold and empty. It lacked any iota of warmth.

'What the hell is she talking about?' Stark wondered.

She paused briefly.

"You don't look particularly strong, though." Then her eyes flicked down to his abdomen, noticing the bloodstain on his shirt.

"Weak. Almost too weak…"

She was obviously confusing him for someone else, a place he did not want to be in. 

Stark searched his soul to check on the state of his spirits—

'Shit.'

They needed more time. He would have to survive this confrontation alone.

Stark frowned. "I don't know what you're talking about, but I wasn't sent by any—"

Whoosh!

A silver spike sprung out of the ground, its sharp edge stopping just a few inches away from his throat.

"Don't lie. I hate liars."

The temperature seemed to drop by a few degrees. Outside, the thunder boomed violently, and the wind howled like an untamed beast.

"I'm not lying. I don't even know what you're talking about."

The crystal spike drew nearer, almost grazing his neck. And then she cocked a brow, her face emotionless, and her eyes glowing like a flaming torch.

"What brings you to the evil forest then? Are you a student of the academy?"

Stark shook his head.

"Then an adventurer?"

Once again, he shook his head, his neck too close to the spike for comfort.

There was no point lying to her. Stark was not sure if she could tell lies from truth, and he had no need to lie.

Doing so would only complicate his current circumstances.

Her frown deepened. "Then who are you?"

"…"

Stark opened his mouth, but strangely, no words came out.

Who was he, really? He was no longer Adrian, the man who had died at the hands of his best friend.

He could not call himself a lord either—he was never accorded that respect, and his kingdom was long lost to him.

He was neither fully human nor elf.

A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips, a sad smile. "I'm just a bastard."

Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly, and for a moment, there was a flicker of emotion in her ghostly orbs—a past that she would rather not remember.

The crystal spike receded, and she folded her arms across her chest, looking to the side.

"Leave."

With a curt nod, Stark stumbled forward, walking a few meters before stopping and plopping down on the crystal floor, resting his back on a large chunk.

The spirit girl glanced at him and cocked a brow.

"Do you want to die that badly?"

Stark laughed. "Better you than the monsters outside."

What was the point of leaving when he would simply get gobbled down by the next big thing?

He was too injured to really put up a fight, and his spirits were out of it. So Stark had come to one conclusion, there was only one way to survive this place.

"How about we make a deal?"

His words lingered in the air. For a few seconds, the spirit girl simply stared at him.

And then she laughed.

She bucked slightly, hands wrapped around her stomach, her face animated as she cackled.

Her cold personality washed away in an instant, revealing a more subdued warmth, and when she looked up…

Her eyes were no longer just plain glowing space. Instead, her eyes took shape, bearing a silver iris that gave off a soft glow.

"You're one amusing guy," she laughed. "You, as weak as you are, want to make a deal with a Great Spirit?"

"Humor me. What do you have to offer?"

Stark smiled.

He had already thought about it. The one thing that he knew she could not possibly refuse.

"Freedom… I will offer you freedom."