Investing in My Crippled Wife: Every Return Makes Me Stronger

Soren tried to convince Ethea to remain above, where it was safe, but she insisted on accompanying him with a firmness that left no room for argument. In the end, he relented, though his grip on the wheelchair handles remained tighter than necessary.

They used the same route from Soren’s previous visit and finally arrived at their destination.

”Eeek...”

The door creaked open, revealing the dark expanse of the chamber beyond.

The air was still just as uneasy, and that enormous tree was still here too. Only the phantom panther that lay beneath that tree had changed in any way — its immense, muscular bulk wrapped tight with coils of chains shimmering softly with suppression magic. Its fur was so immersed in the shadows that it was more an embodiment of the darkness than a living being.

Then its eyes opened.

A pair of violet eyes, sharp and luminous against the gloom, fixed directly on Soren.

”...”

For a long moment, nobody moved.

Soren stared back, bracing himself for the wave of illusions or mental attacks he had faced during their last encounter. But none came. Something about the way Malakor looked at him felt... strange.

It... It was like a devoted stray dog looking at a new owner who held a bowl of food.

’...What the hell am I thinking?’

Soren shook his head inwardly, banishing the absurd comparison before it could take root. He was probably still on edge from everything Elenaria had revealed. That was all.

This was Kalmira’s Nightmare after all, a terrifying magic beast that could destroy this city if it wanted, not some needy household pet.

Thankfully, Malakor soon looked away from him, turning to the director instead.

”...Can you leave us alone?”

”Don’t try to play tricks again, Malakor,” Elenaria replied, eyeing the beast coldly. ”Say what you have to say, or else I will be taking them back immediately.”

”...Alright.”

A heavy sigh escaped the panther, as though he were surrendering to an inescapable fate. Then, slowly, he rose to his feet.

The chains clinked and rattled with the movement, their runes flaring briefly before settling. Soren tensed before quickly moving in front of the wheelchair. Elenaria also shifted her stance, mana already gathering at her fingertips. Even Ethea, silent until now, drew in a sharp breath.

But Malakor made no move to attack. He simply walked toward them, his steps unhurried and his head lowered.

Soren frowned. That strange feeling he had sensed earlier grew heavier with every inch the panther closed, swelling until it pressed against his ribs like a second heartbeat. However, he knew it was not fear but something else entirely, something he could not name.

”...”

A few meters away, Malakor finally stopped.

And then, with a grace that belied his massive frame, he lowered his head and bowed.

”...This lowly slave greets his master.”

”...”

Silence enveloped the whole chamber.

All three of them were left dumbfounded at the absurd sight unfolding before their eyes.

Elenaria’s usual composure cracked for a fraction of a second, her eyebrows twitching as her gaze darted between the bowing beast and the thoroughly bewildered young man beside her. Ethea blinked rapidly, looking up at Soren with a mix of confusion and surprise.

As for Soren, he simply stood frozen, his brain momentarily short-circuiting.

’Master? Lowly slave?’

He stared at the terrifying creature that, just days ago, had tried to tear his soul apart and devour his spiritual essence. The very same creature was now practically groveling at his feet like a disciplined pup.

”What...” Soren began, forcing his vocal cords to function as he took a cautious half-step back. ”What in the world are you talking about?”

Malakor did not lift his head. The heavy chains around his neck clinked against the floor as he kept his nose pressed low to the ground.

”...Master, please don’t make this lowly slave embarrass himself any further.”

Soren’s eyelid twitched. ”Just answer the question.”

Malakor let out a weary sigh. When he spoke again, his voice was tinged with deep humiliation.

”...When I invaded your soul space that day, my intention was not merely to devour your spiritual essence. I sought to place a slave seal upon you. A mark that would bind your will to mine and make you my eternal servant.”

The chamber seemed to grow colder.

”But... it backfired.” Malakor’s ears flattened against his skull. ”Your mental defenses were far higher than I anticipated. And at the most crucial moment, the bond within your soul interfered, tangling itself into the process and disrupting my control over the ritual entirely. The connection twisted. The mark inverted. And as a result... the seal reversed.”

He finally lifted his head, those violet eyes meeting Soren’s with something between resignation and bitter acceptance.

”Instead of making you my slave... I became yours.”

Soren stared. Elenaria’s lips parted in stunned silence. Ethea’s fingers trembled.

”...You’re telling me,” Soren said slowly, ”that Raine didn’t defeat you? That it was just... an accident?”

”...Raine?” Malakor’s gaze flickered with something unreadable. ”You mean your bond? That sneaky cat hiding in the depths of your soul?” He shook his head. ”It barely had the strength to exist, let alone fight me. It was the backlash that left me in this sorry state, not her.”

Soren’s chest tightened.

’Does that mean all of our theories were wrong? Then... Raine...’

His eyes narrowed into a cold glare as he fixed them on Malakor, a sharp thread of killing intent seeping into his gaze.

”What happened to Raine? Where is she now?”

Malakor held his gaze for a moment before looking away.

”She... She is... dead.”

”...W-What?”

The word barely made it past his lips. His heart stuttered, then seemed to stop entirely, leaving a hollow silence in his chest where warmth used to be.

”Even before I forced my way into your soul, she had been barely hanging on, the edges of her soul already worn thin.” Malakor paused briefly before finishing his words. ”She... sacrificed herself to save you.”

”...Thud.”

”...I am sorry.”