Chapter 3 - Chapter 3: Chapter 2 Judgment (2/2)

“What on earth happened…”

The girl had witnessed everything that had just occurred, and she knew these people had not died naturally.

The ghastly array of corpses did not instill fear in her; instead, Irene felt a profound reverence and gratitude towards the mysterious entity that had saved her and her brother!

She was just an ordinary girl living in the town, always having lived with her parents, poor but not feeling any pain.

But just over a month ago, her parents went out to sea to fish for a rare species of fish with a magic beast lineage, and they never returned. The acquaintances in town were all reluctant to mention anything about her parents’ situation.

However, Irene was no longer a child, and she gradually understood that her parents would never be coming back.

Therefore, as the elder sister, she must protect her brother, and she vowed to take good care of Chris.

It was tough for Irene to raise her brother on her own, and she found it difficult to survive on her own, let alone take care of an infant in swaddling clothes.

Even with hard daily labor, the stingy adults in town were only willing to give a little bit of food, and Irene had to thank them profusely.

She went hungry day and night but always managed a smile, as everything would be worth it as long as her brother grew up safely.

But the events of this night were so ruthless and cruel; Irene suddenly realized how powerless she was in this dark and brutal world.

“Wah!”

The crying of her brother brought Irene back to her senses.

She quickly returned to the wooden hut with Chris, who was crying and soaking wet, hurriedly ignited a fire with the little dry wood they had in an attempt to warm up her drenched brother.

“Mm, mm, don’t cry, don’t cry,” the soaked girl consoled her brother in her arms.

Outside the wooden hut, the storm raged as Irene knelt on the ground, her body small and huddled like a little animal’s, sincerely asking.

“Who are you?”

In the depths of her heart, she knew that what had just happened was no coincidence; there must be some powerful and mysterious entity that had protected her and her brother from the shadows.

“Who are you, the one who saved us?”

As the girl murmured to herself, Karl suddenly felt a gap form deep inside her heart, vague yet genuinely existing.

He realized this might be an opportunity to communicate with someone and needed to seize the moment, picturing a part of his soul being injected into it.

The soul shard entered the girl’s body through the gap in her heart and instantly flowed into her bloodstream.

Boom!

The whole fusion process was excruciating for Karl, with his consciousness nearly shattering and his soul itself wilting!

He was acutely aware that his current condition was terrible, at most only enough for one act of splitting his soul.

“Ah!”

Irene couldn’t help but scream out in sudden agony.

In pain, she clutched the back of her left hand, where a distinct red mark had emerged on her pale skin, with a round base and a complex pattern of lines that was difficult to define.

Favored member.

The term surfaced suddenly from her memory, and Karl realized that his connection to the girl had become exceedingly close.

It seemed not just her but also the crying baby’s chubby little hand bore a red imprint.

It wasn’t just the two of them either; the entire Fischer family’s bloodline descendants, whether ten generations or a hundred, were doomed to forever be favored members.

Karl knew from memory one significant fact: the souls of favored members would return to him after death, and the ultimate fate of a lifetime of work was to return after death.

The spirituality they carried would also turn into nourishment to strengthen his own soul, just like those mysterious rare artifacts, except that digesting spirituality wouldn’t harm the essence of the favored members’ souls.

“What is this thing on the back of my hand, this red pattern?”

After not receiving an answer for a long time and sweating from the pain, Irene carefully continued to inquire.

“Could you be some great deity?”

He suddenly found that he could speak in the depths of Irene’s heart; no, it was still different, closer to conveying thoughts and ideas than actually producing a human voice.

Karl considered the “deity” concept; it was far too remote. In fact, he was merely a fragmented soul, even trapped inside a small bottle, unable to move.

But if he merely claimed to be a passing remnant soul or some terrifying entity like a devil, it’s likely no human would be willing to sincerely communicate.

Karl pondered in silence and decisively fabricated an identity that seemed mighty and awe-inspiring.

[I am the Lord of the Lost, also the god who is destined to revive.]

[You will contribute to the great cause, offering a portion of your strength.]