NOVPUB
Chapter 54: Beyrin Carriage (III)
Zayn sat cross-legged atop the carriage, his eyes half-lidded as the wind howled past him.
The night air was thick, carrying the scent of damp earth and distant rain.
The clouds above churned, dark and heavy, threatening to crack open at any moment.
He glanced up. A storm was coming.
"Great."
Rain meant low visibility — which meant bandits, monsters, or whatever the hell else lurked out here would have an easier time sneaking up on them.
But honestly? It didn’t matter.
If someone was dumb enough to attack him after what just happened, they deserved whatever came next.
For now, he had other things to focus on.
Soul Energy.
Zayn had power — that much he knew.
The Witch’s Mark on his body, the ability to draw souls from the forge, the natural instincts honed from battle.
But raw power wasn’t enough.
Control.
That’s what separated the strong from the dead.
And what better place to train than in the middle of a storm, riding across dangerous terrain, with the lingering risk of death?
Yeah the odds were looking good.
He took a slow breath, shutting his eyes.
The world around him dulled.
The sound of the carriage wheels rolling across dirt.
The occasional huff of the horses. The muttered grumbles of the driver.
All of it faded.
Zayn reached inward.
What was Soul Energy, really?
He’d used it before — felt the way it pulsed through his body in battle, let it strengthen his strikes, enhance his reflexes.
But he never controlled it directly. It was always from the forge.
It was like holding a sword without understanding how to swing it properly.
Sure, he could hit things, but there was no precision.
No technique.
Now?
Now, he wanted to shape it.
’Focus.’
His breath slowed.
A familiar warmth stirred in his chest.
It was faint — like an ember hidden beneath ash.
He reached for it.
The ember pulsed.
Then — it flared.
A sharp rush of energy shot through his veins, startling him.
His fingers twitched. His heart pounded in his chest.
For a brief second, it was like he was drowning in something vast.
His instincts screamed at him to stop, to pull away.
Instead, Zayn held on.
He grit his teeth, grappling with the surge, trying to mold it into something controlled, something precise.
The energy fought back.
It was wild...
He felt it lash out inside him, searing through his limbs.
Like taming a wild horse, he didn’t force it into submission — he guided it, coaxed it, shaped it.
The chaotic storm inside him began to calm.
The raw, unfocused power condensed, gathering in his palms, humming beneath his fingertips.
The first drops of rain hit the carriage roof with soft, rhythmic taps.
At first, it was almost soothing — the gentle patter blending with the steady clatter of the carriage wheels against the dirt road.
Then, almost as if the heavens had decided to open up all at once, the drizzle turned into a full-blown storm.
Sheets of rain crashed down, hammering against the wooden frame of the carriage.
The horses neighed in protest, their hooves splashing mud with every frantic step forward.
Thunder rolled across the sky, a deep, guttural sound that made the very air vibrate.
The driver cursed under his breath, pulling his hood tighter as he called out, "Kid! Get down here before you get yourself killed!"
Zayn didn’t respond.
Hell, he didn’t even hear the man.
He was still on top of the carriage, seated cross-legged, his hands resting lightly on his knees.
His eyes were closed, his mind somewhere else entirely.
The storm raged around him, but the rain... it never touched him.
It should have.
By all accounts, he should have been drenched to the bone, shivering in the cold night air.
But instead, the raindrops veered away at the last second, sliding off an invisible force.
His Soul Energy was expanding outward. n𝚘𝚟pub.𝚌o𝚖
It flickered around him, forming a thin, translucent veil — a shimmering cloak of golden energy that repelled the storm’s fury.
The air around him crackled softly, as if charged with a presence far greater than his own.
It was instinctual.
He hadn’t consciously willed it to happen, hadn’t tried to manipulate the energy into this form — his body had simply reacted.
It was protecting him.
Like armor.
A part of him wanted to open his eyes, to see this phenomenon with his own gaze, but another part of him — the part that had spent the last hour trying to control his power — told him to wait.
To feel it.
To understand it.
He slowed his breathing.
’In.’
’Out.’
His mind focused, tracing the sensation of Soul Energy as it moved through his body — through his veins, his muscles, his very core.
It wasn’t just a tool.
It was a part of him.
It wasn’t something he had to force into shape.
It was him.
Zayn let out a slow breath and finally stood up.
His legs had gone a little numb from sitting cross-legged for so long, but he ignored it.
Instead, he focused on keeping his Soul Energy wrapped around him, its warmth pressing against his skin like an invisible cloak.
Coming down was the right call.
Sure, he could still sense anything lurking in the shadows of the trees, but staying up there made him an easy target.
Besides, the driver was already pissed at him for ignoring his shouts earlier.
The rain was still pouring hard, the droplets heavy enough to create a rhythmic drumbeat against the wooden carriage roof.
Zayn gripped the edge and hopped down.
Mud splashed beneath his boots as he landed lightly, his body automatically adjusting to the uneven ground.
He took a step forward and paused.
The driver was staring at him.
Not in the usual way people stared at him when he did something reckless, but in a way that made Zayn arch an eyebrow.
"Something on my face?" he asked.
The driver huffed, shaking his head as he tightened his hood against the rain.
"You should be soaked, kid. You were up there for a while, and yet..."
He gave Zayn a once-over. "Not a damn drop on you."
