Savior in Shadow Slave

When the word "Stop" echoed through the grove —

not from the Ascended, but from the Druid —

something stirred.

The air stilled. The trees themselves fell silent, as if honoring a higher will.

And Olivia…

She felt it.

Something cold wrapped around her spine.

Her breath caught.

Her body—imbued with essence and training—refused to move.

Her attack fizzled out mid-air, dissolving like mist before reaching its mark.

Her arms hung limp at her sides. Her legs locked in place.

She stood frozen.

Not from magic she could detect.

Not from physical chains.

But from command.

Unseen, inviolable, and absolute.

The Druid tilted her head, a soft pout on her lips. "Tsk, tsk... You really are a bad child," she whispered sweetly. "I was telling such an interesting story, and you interrupted me."

She sighed as though disappointed in a lover.

Her gaze, sharp and unhurried, traveled across Olivia's form — from shoulder to hip, from pride to vulnerability. As if seeing underneath her armour.

"Now that I think about it," she mused, tracing a finger along her own collarbone, "I don't even know your name, do I? What's your name, pretty lady?"

"…Olivia," she replied, voice small but defiant.

A vine rose suddenly from the soil and cracked across her pointed chest — sharp, stinging, precise.

A pleasurable moan resounded from Olivia's throat.

Druid's power was working.

The Druid smiled, eyes gleaming.

"Is that how you speak to your master, Olivia?"

She leaned forward, voice dipping into a whisper that brushed like velvet over Olivia's frozen ears.

"Try again."

There was a pause — tight and trembling.

Then:

"…My name is Olivia, Master."

The Druid beamed, like a teacher pleased with her student.

"Good girl."

"Now," the Druid purred, her voice turning warm and faraway,

"let me finish the story…"

Her eyes grew soft, almost dreamlike, as if the grove itself dimmed in reverence.

"He was strong — incredibly strong," she whispered.

"Hair like flowing blood down his back. Skin pale as starlight. And eyes…"

She paused, her breath catching for just a second.

"Eyes like stone — grey and ancient, watching everything."

She smiled faintly, a touch of lust in the curve of her lips.

"He called himself Griesha."

"He looked at me for a while."

'Yes,' he said. 'You are the one.'

Olivia blinked, her body still bound by invisible force, the name echoing ominously in her mind.

The Druid traced her finger in the dirt beside her, slow and deliberate, as if retracing the memory.

"He knelt and carved strange runes into the earth. I didn't recognize them — none of us would. Not even now."

She smiled softly.

"Then… he pricked his finger and let a drop of his blood fall into the center."

"And in that instant—"

Her voice grew quieter.

"I fell into a slumber deeper than death. A stillness so vast, I forgot my body. My name."

"One year passed. I know this only because… when I woke, he was still there."

She leaned her head back against the bark behind her, a faraway glow in her eyes.

"He had waited. He stayed."

"And when I opened my eyes again… I was no longer what I was before."

Her fingers curled slightly in the soil, as if feeling it pulse.

"I was aware. Aware of my hunger, Aware of desire — not just mine, but all that blooms and festers in others."

She opened her eyes and looked directly at Olivia — calm, pleasured, smiling.

"I became… closer to this."

The Druid's voice softened again, more wistful now — as if the memory had aged like ancient wine.

"After that," she whispered, "he stayed with me for a decade."

She smiled faintly, eyes distant.

"He taught me how to speak in human tongues. How to read, to write. He even told me stories — myths, riddles, poetry…"

A pause.

She looked down at her hands.

"For the first time, my hunger for ruin, for destruction, for pleasure, for death — it dulled. Subdued by something holy and divine."

"One day, he looked at me and asked…"

Her voice dropped into near silence.

"'Do you want to be free of the corruption?

To be reborn — as human?'"

Her breath caught.

"I didn't hesitate. I said yes."

A small, bitter laugh escaped her lips.

"And he smiled — truly smiled. He said, 'Good. Wait here. I'll return soon.'"

Her gaze darkened.

"And then… he disappeared."

A full year passed.

Druid turned her gaze towards Olivia who was sitting there and ordered

"Say Olivia I don't like being the only one naked. Hmm...Olivia, strip your clothes apart, not completely but enough for all your necessary things to show."

And so, she did.

She paused in her retelling, her voice taking on a hushed, reverent tone — like recalling sacred scripture spoken in shadow.

"He returned," she whispered. "Haggard. Worn. But alive."

Her eyes shimmered with something unreadable — admiration, sorrow… longing.

"Listen closely, Druid," he said, his voice low but firm.

"You must remember every word I speak — and follow it exactly."

She closed her eyes, repeating his words as if engraved in her soul.

"First, I will give you a fragment of a concept — the concept of pleasure and passion.

It will become the axis of your existence.

With it, you will awaken.

You will desire.

You will live each moment seeking sensation — endlessly aroused, forever wanting."

Her lips parted slightly, her breath slow — intoxicated by the memory.

"Second, I will give you a sliver of my soul — steeped in divinity, tempered by will.

It will resist corruption. It will remind you that you are not meant to fall."

"It will keep your hunger from devouring you."

She opened her eyes then — fixed them on Olivia with an expression that sent a chill through the still air.

"And third," he said, "You must swear to me — Druid — you will never rise past the Fallen Rank, and never become tyrant."

"Because if you do…"

"The part of me within you… will die. And you will become a thoroughly corrupted creature."

The Druid's eyes darkened as she spoke, her voice trembling — not from fear, but from the weight of what came next.

"Lastly… I've left behind something — a book."

She paused, staring past Olivia, into memory.

"It's not meant to teach you. Or free you.

It's meant to enslave you — in absolute submission, should you fall."

Olivia's breath caught. Even in her frozen state, a ripple of unease passed through her.

"In about eighty years… a proud, greedy Ascended will appear."

"She'll believe herself powerful. She'll burn through her essence in desperation… and then she'll use chains — ancient ones — to try and bind you."

The Druid's lips curved, not in mirth, but in bittersweet irony.

"But the book, the seal, the circle… it was never hers."

"It was mine."

"When she comes, and when she binds you… you will activate the runic circle I've drawn beneath this grove — invisible to all but you."

"It will reverse the chain."

"It will enslave her instead."

A pause.

And then, the condition.

"But such power comes with cost.

You will remain trapped — forever — at the Awakened Devil level.

Never higher. Never free."

Her eyes dimmed, and her voice fell quiet.

"Her soul will be the anchor — the price.

It will reinforce your seal against corruption. It will shape the path to your rebirth."

"I cannot tell you more…"

"Because that is the will of my god."

"Also remember," Griesha had said,

"you are to feed her ecstasy for at least a year. Only then will the seal hold. Only then… will your rebirth be possible."

"After all is done, you will be reborn as a strongest Transcended human."

The words echoed like commandments, still alive in the grove's roots.

And as if summoned by them, the vines surrounding Olivia began to move — not with hunger, but with purpose. With design.

They pulsed faintly, lit from within by a dim, runic glow.

They coiled roughly around her limbs, her throat, her temples — not to hurt, but for arousal. To rewire.

A soft hum filled the air. A frequency not heard, but felt — in the bones, in the blood. It throbbed like a second heartbeat beneath her own.

Olivia's eyes widened.

As vines, dozens of them, filled her every orifice and started wringing inside her. A moan escaped from inside her. Her entire being shivering from ecstasy and endless desire.

As Druid watched, she felt endless satisfaction and a small smile crept on her lips. As she joined her.

And the dream ended.

***

Watching all of this unfold from the edge of that dreamscape, Murphy felt a chill that cut deeper than any blade ever could.

His breathing slowed.

The world around him — the trees, the moaning grove, the quivering magic in the roots — all blurred at the edges, as if recoiling from his thoughts.

And then it hit him.

The seal.

The circle.

The book.

The prophecy.

The soul sacrifice.

None of this was spontaneous.

None of it was chaos.

It was orchestrated. Deliberate. Designed.

By the Second Head Elder. Griesha

The one who spoke in half-truths and riddles.

The one who always watched, but never interfered.

The one who had given him vague warnings wrapped in politeness —

and books that shouldn't have existed anymore.

He remembered one of his deaths.

"No power exists without purpose, child."

"All monsters were once necessary."

He had said those words casually once, as if speaking of weather.

But now…

Watching Olivia collapse beneath ritual she couldn't understand…

Watching the Druid smile like a daughter fulfilling a mother's will…

Murphy felt something snap inside him.

The Second Head Elder had known.

Not just about the grove, or the Druid.

Not just About the seal. Or about Olivia's fate.

But about Murphy's involvement.

'I guess his True Name- The one who knows wasn't in vain.'

And in that moment, he realized:

It was an inheritance.

Druid was an inheritance for him and also a key to that place.