Savior in Shadow Slave

When Murphy saw his True Name, he didn't flinch.There was no gasp, no stunned revelation.Only quiet, bone-deep understanding.

Because, in truth, the name had always been there.

Most likely, it had whispered itself into the soil during the Burial—stitched silently into the seams of his soul.

It hadn't revealed itself until now, but it had never been absent. It had always watched from the edge of knowing, waiting for him to be ready.

True Names were not just titles. They were not mere words.

They were anchors—to self, to meaning, to memory. They were the thread that stitched one's soul to the world.

But more than that…

They were hints to one's Fate.

In Murphy's case, it wasn't just a name.

It was a pathway, a prophecy. A silent chord played at the birth of stars.

And now that he had seen it, he understood:

He was no longer a wanderer with a forgotten past.

He was a chosen fragment of something greater.

He was walking toward something destined.

And this time, he would do so awake.

But how should he interpret it?

The name had revealed itself not with a shout, but with a whisper. And now, the universe responded. As if the recognition of self had turned a key in the lock of existence.

Just then, Spell's voice returned—distant, ancient, echoing through the vastness of the void.

[The First Seal is already broken.]

[Awakening remanent dormant powers…]

Murphy's breath caught.

Then, it began.

At first, it felt like a ripple beneath his skin—a subtle vibration, like a distant heartbeat pulsing through the folds of his spirit. It was not painful. Not even strange. It was inevitable—like something he had always been meant to feel.

A pulse surged outward from deep inside, as though a long-slumbering sun had blinked open within his chest.

Light, not of the eyes but of the soul, filled him.

His veins carried not just blood now, but something older. His bones groaned, not in pain, but in release—as if shackles had been silently broken within. Muscles knitted tighter, fibers reborn in woven patterns of resilience. His senses bloomed open like spring after centuries of frost.

It was euphoric.

But then—his vision shifted.

It doubled, not from dizziness, but clarity.

Two layers of reality slipped into focus.

The first: the inky void, still swirling with constellations.

The second… something entirely different.

A sea.

Silent. Still.

Glowing with its own inner light.

Suspended above it—twenty-one stars.

Three pulsed with solemn authority.

Fifteen circled them like vigilant sentinels.

One, unimaginably vast, burned across the sky like a devouring dawn.

Twenty lesser lights hovered around them—distant, flickering. Easy to miss, unless one looked.

And Murphy knew.

From dusty pages of a novel he once read—back when he was only Murphy—he understood.

This was the Sea of Soul.

But not as it was supposed to be.

In the stories, every soul sea was illuminated by a single Sun—their core.

But he had no such sun.

He had stars. He had too many stars.

But neither of the Divine Aspect users had a normal soul sea either.

[Awakening Aspect Ability…]

'What would be added to my ability?'

[Aspect Ability reformed.]

[Aspect Ability Name: Karma]

Murphy unhurriedly summoned his runes, wanting to see what has changed.

Name: Murphy

True Name: The Star That Turned Back

Rank: Dreamer

Souls: Forty-One Souls

Memories: Kalpata.

Echoes: —

Attributes: [Perfect Sorcerer], [Flame of Divinity], [Terror], [Soul Beast], [Broken Being], [Rebirth]

Aspect: [Nirvana]

Aspect Description: Born of transcending suffering, this Aspect is the echo of a self that has let go. No longer bound by rage, fear, or longing, the bearer becomes a hollow flame—calm, clear, and unshakable. You do not conquer; you outlast. You do not destroy; You dissolve.

Monsters tremble in your stillness. The dying find peace in your presence.

You are not ascended—You are absent.

Not divine, not dead—only free.

Aspect Ability: Karma

Ability Description: Your thought can pass through mental barriers and enter another's mind, changing their subconscious, reading their thoughts.

You can make them relive their deepest trauma.

You can shape destiny by whispering into the mind's weakest moment.

Attributes:

[Perfect Sorcerer]

Description: You possess unparalleled talent for all kinds of sorcery.

[Flame of Divinity]

Description: "Your soul is aflame with the light of divinity."

[Terror]

Description: The more someone fears you, the less powerful their attack becomes against you.

[Soul Beast]

Description: You are in possession of a miraculous being who walks the path from the Profane to the Divine. You can use some of its abilities. It is currently asleep.

[Broken Being]

Description: Y□□ □□□ b□□□en □□d □□i□ul b□in□ □□o can□ e□en r□□□m□□□ □□□□s□□□.

[Rebirth]

Description: "You have devoured a portion of Beast God."

[Fragment of Passion and Pleasure]

Current digestion progress: 29%

A faint smile stole across Murphy's lips, softening the weight in his gaze. Warmth, rare and unexpected, flickered in his eyes.

"Like mother," he murmured, "like son."

With that, Murphy turned his gaze, this time toward what should have been his Soul Core.

But instead...

There was a section simply marked [Souls]—and it was already filled by 41.

A quiet hum passed through him, not threatening, but heavy. Like silence after a scream.

"Souls… Souls, huh?" he muttered, voice dry with realization.

His mind began parsing through the fragments of memory, tracing each soul like fingerprints left on a blade.

"The big radiant one… that has to be her. Mother."

Even now, her soul burned brightest—warm, sorrowful, unrelenting.

"The three smaller ones… those must belong to the Entity. Each splinter I struck down."

He could still remember the pressure. The coldness. The eyes that watched him as if he were prey.

"Fifteen more… Awakened Creatures."

Each one a monstrous testament to the path he had walked—beings whose power was only outmatched by their hunger, now resting quietly within him.

But it was the last cluster that gave him pause.

Twenty-one. Smaller. Faint. Flickering.

He stared at them for a long moment, then exhaled, as if the truth had punched the breath from his lungs.

"And Dormant Beasts… from the House of the Entity."

His tone dipped into something bitter.

"Humans."

The weight of it pressed against his chest—not guilt exactly, but acknowledgment.

He was carrying them. All of them.

Not as punishment.

Not as redemption.

But simply... because no one else could.

'I'll have to explore this carefully.'

Just as he was thinking about their application and the fact that he had her soul.

The Spell's voice resounded in the black void.

[All power has a price.]

[You have received a Flaw.]

[Your Flaw is: Bell of the Fallen Moon]

Flaw description: After kill, You must confront the maddening emotional echo of the fallen.

This flaw although burdening to others was a huge boon to himself.

It can reveal unknown truths, hidden regrets, or buried sorrows.

And it can help him walk the path of consequence that he talked Apparition about.

[Wake up, The Star that Turned Back!]