Asher and Olivia materialized back in the manor's grounds, passing through the gate with ease.
As they walked towards the main house, they were greeted by Asher's mother, who smiled warmly as she saw her son and Olivia.
She hurried over to them, her arms open wide, and hugged both Asher and Olivia tightly.
"My dear boy, how did it go?" she asked, her voice filled with concern.
Asher smiled and hugged her back. "All went well, Mother. I'll tell you all about it during dinner."
His mother nodded, satisfied.
"Very well, dear. I'll make sure to let the servants know to prepare your favorite dishes."
As she spoke, she turned to the nearby servants, who nodded and began to bustle about, preparing for the evening's meal.
Asher smiled, feeling a sense of comfort and routine wash over him.
He knew that his mother would want to hear all about his day, and he would rather share it with her over dinner.
With a nod, Asher and Olivia followed his mother into the manor, the sound nib sizzling meat and simmering sauces filling the air as the servants worked to prepare a feast fit for the evening's conversation.
Asher stood in front of his mother, his eyes fixed on hers as he delivered the news. "I have no affinity," he said, his voice flat.
His mother looked crestfallen, her eyes welling up with tears.
"It's my fault,"
she whispered, her voice trembling. "I such a terrible mother."
Asher's expression softened, and he reached out to comfort her.
"Mother, no,"
he said gently.
"It's not your fault and your not terrible you're the best. Some people just don't have affinity, that's all."
She shook her head, her eyes spilling over with tears. Asher pulled her into a hug, holding her close as she cried.
"Don't worry, dear," she said, her voice muffled against his shoulder. "You might be a late bloomer. Many people don't discover their affinity until later in life."
Asher smiled and held her for a moment longer, before dinner was announced. The meal was a somber affair, with Asher's mother trying to make light conversation despite her obvious worry.
After dinner, Asher excused himself, asking not to be disturbed.
He walked to his room, his mind heavy with thoughts.
"True to her word," he muttered to himself. "No blessings, no magic, cursed, fragile body... the list can go on." He sighed,
Fate had orchestrated every step of Asher's life to prevent him from reaching this moment, but her efforts had been in vain.
A spark within him had persisted, a flame that burned brighter with each passing day.
The fire of determination seemed to fuel his very being, driving him forward with an unyielding passion.
Fate had done everything she could to stop him, but she couldn't take all of his spiritual power.
It was returning slowly, and he had just enough to bring someone to help him with one of his problems.
The anticipation was building up inside him, like a storm about to unleash its fury.
With a deliberate motion, Asher pulled out a Talisman and held it between his fingers.
The Talisman pulsed with energy, its power coursing through him like lifeblood.
"Summoning Talisman, the 9th M," he whispered, his voice steady and firm. "Bring forth Korvus, Body Mutilator."
The room around him began to shift and change, the very fabric of reality bending to accommodate the summoned entity.
The flames that lit the room flickered slowly, casting momentary darkness over the space. The shadows danced on the walls, like dark specters awakened by Asher's incantation.
As the flames sputtered and danced, the air grew thick with anticipation. The room seemed to hold its breath, waiting for the arrival of Korvus. And then, the flames went out, plunging the room into darkness.
Asher's eyes strained to see anything, but there was nothing. The darkness was absolute, a palpable presence that wrapped around him like a shroud. But Asher waited, patient and unmoving.
The darkness would not last, and Asher knew it.
The flames would return, and with them, Korvus.
And so, it happened.
The flames flickered back to life, casting an otherworldly glow over the room.
Asher's eyes adjusted slowly, and he saw that the room was transformed.
The furniture was still there, but it was surrounded by a sea of beady eyes. Rats.
Hundreds of them. They were all looking at Asher, their eyes fixed on him with an unblinking gaze.
The rats spoke in unison, their voices like a chilling chant.
"A mere human dares to summon me? I rearrange every organ in your body as penance for your foolishness."
Their voices sent shivers down Asher's spine, and he felt a surge of adrenaline.
Asher's expression turned cold, and he sneered at the rats.
"You filthy yokai, you dare to speak to your master like that?"
His voice was laced with disdain, and the rats fell silent.
The room seemed to darken, as if the very air was thickening with an unseen force.
The rats' eyes widened in panic, and they scurried about, trying to find escape routes.
Rat holes appeared all over the room, but it was as if an invisible barrier prevented them from leaving.
Asher's voice was calm and commanding.
"Don't waste your time. You are not leaving."
The rats scurried under the bed, and Asher walked over to look underneath.
What he saw made his expression twist in distaste. A scrawny man with bony fingers, long nails, and a bald head with strands of golden hair falling from his scalp cowered under the bed. Korvus, the supposed Body Mutilator, looked up at Asher with a mixture of fear and anger.
"You are supposed to be dead,"
Korvus said, his voice shaking. His eyes were sunken, and his skin was deathly pale.
Asher's response was laced with sarcasm.
"And you are supposed to have at least one eye. I don't remember destroying the right one."
Korvus felt his face, his fingers probing the empty socket where his right eye should have been.
"Oh yeah,"
he muttered, and then a rat scurried out from under the bed, ran up Korvus's arm,
and disappeared into his mouth. Korvus swallowed, and Asher stood up, waiting.
Moments later, Korvus emerged from under the bed, his right eye socket no longer empty.
A new eyeball had formed, and he looked at Asher with a mixture of curiosity and wariness.
"What do you want from me?"
Korvus asked, his voice still shaking slightly. Asher's response was unexpected, a single word that hung in the air like a challenge.
"A makeover."
[A/N]
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