Bound by Darkness: Mastering the Immortal System

Chapter 1: Enduring the Bitter Winter

Sebastian lay in the absolute stillness of the room, his ears attuned to the rhythmic scratching that pierced the silence. It was a sound he knew well—the steady shaking of a wooden sieve in the practiced hands of a laborer. "Shash... shash..." The sound repeated with an unmistakable cadence. Inside that sieve, particles of varying sizes rolled and tumbled: hard, dried root fragments, small gritty grains, and brittle twigs. They collided with one another, creating ripples of sound that diffused through the air, as if every single grain were recounting its own tale of desiccation under the departed summer sun.

Not far away, the wind carried another sound: the frantic, rhythmic flapping of a piece of cloth or a plastic bag snagged on a fence. It did not fly away; it remained tethered, perhaps held by a child trying to play in this gathering storm, or maybe it was a wretched scarecrow erected in a long-abandoned field to frighten birds that had fled the village ages ago. In the further distance, human murmurs and the heavy thud of weary footsteps reached him, but they were muffled and distorted, as if a thick, impenetrable wall of mist stood between him and the rest of the world, dissolving the words before they could touch his ears.

Suddenly, a sharp, violent pain erupted at the very center of his skull, as if a bolt of lightning had splintered his cranium. Sebastian instinctively clutched his hair, his frail body tensing as the dam of memories inside his mind burst open. Images, emotions, and scents flooded his consciousness like a devastating hurricane. In that disoriented moment, he heard the wooden sieve clatter to the floor, followed by the frantic, stumbling footsteps of a woman rushing toward him. The door creaked open with a high-pitched groan that spoke of ancient, rotting wood, and a warm body smelling of bitter herbs and damp earth collapsed onto him.

"Sebastian! Sebastian! Answer me!" the woman cried out, her voice a desperate blend of longing and sheer terror.

At first, in his clouded state of mind, he wondered: Who is this woman searching for? But as the cacophony in his head settled into a dull throb, the bitter truth took hold. She was calling for him. He had left his previous existence behind and transitioned into this vessel; he was now "Sebastian."

That woman was Ellen, the hardworking young soul who managed the "Healing Apothecary." She was not just a shop owner; she was the physician, the herbalist, and the beating heart of this dilapidated establishment. As for the original Sebastian, he had been a gaunt, sightless youth, taken in by the apothecary three years ago to serve as a menial laborer, sweeping floors and washing clothes. He had become so accustomed to the darkness that it was a part of him, allowing him to perform his manual tasks through a highly developed sense of touch and hearing.

During those three years, Sebastian had witnessed—from behind the veil of his blindness—the slow decay of the shop. War was the monster that had devoured everything. The old physician, Ellen’s father, had been forcibly conscripted to treat the wounded on the battlefronts, leaving Ellen with only this blind youth for company. Just days ago, the ominous news had arrived: the army was defeated, and the old physician had perished in his trench. Only yesterday, Sebastian had gone with Ellen to erect an empty memorial, and there, crushed by the weight of grief and exhaustion, the original Sebastian had collapsed and lost consciousness, allowing this new soul to awaken today.

Ellen was weeping audibly, her sobs carrying the immense weight of years of fear and isolation. "You are all I have left in this desolate world," she whispered, wiping her tears on the edge of his sleeve. "Please, do not leave me. You will be fine, I promise you!"

Sebastian felt a lump form in his throat, choking his breath. He was truly blind now, seeing nothing but an endless, pitch-black void. Yet, his body’s long-standing experience with this sightlessness began to merge with his new consciousness. He did not feel absolute despair; instead, he noticed that his hearing and other senses had become unnervingly sharp. He could feel the vibrations of the air, the texture of dust particles, and the biting chill of the wind seeping through the cracks in the window like icy daggers.

In that defining moment, Sebastian decided to turn the page on his past. "From this second onward, I am Sebastian, and I will survive no matter the cost."

He heard the pitter-patter of sleet hitting the tiled roof; the sound was faint at first but began to intensify. Sebastian deduced that the storm had truly begun. He spoke in a calm, steady voice: "Ellen, the snow is starting to accumulate. We must gather the remaining dried herbs from the courtyard immediately."

Ellen jolted into action; preserving the medicine was a survival instinct for her. She ran into the small yard, still sobbing, gathering trays and sieves with a frantic energy. The shop no longer generated income; the village was devoid of strong men, populated only by the elderly and widows, all drowned in a level of poverty that made medical treatment a luxury they could not afford. For Ellen, every herb root she brought down from the mountain cliffs represented a gamble with her life against hungry wolves and bandits. Thus, those herbs were more precious than gold.

After several grueling rounds, Ellen moved everything inside and bolted the door shut. She sat beside Sebastian on the edge of the rickety bed. Sebastian felt the shame and awkwardness inherited from the body’s original owner; he had loved Ellen with a silent, sanctifying devotion, viewing himself as a useless burden unworthy of her grace.

But the new Sebastian possessed a different will. "I must regain my strength," he planned in silence. He would learn to adapt to this world, and by spring, they would flee this doomed land. But for now, the primary enemy was the winter.

"Sebastian, I will prepare some hot food," Ellen said, trying to catch her breath. He tried to stand to help her chop wood, but she gently pushed him back. "Your body is still too weak. How can you hold an axe in this state? Rest, and I will handle it."

Ellen went out, and Sebastian heard the thud of the axe beneath the eaves. "Du... du..." The sound echoed in the courtyard’s silence—dry wood being split to provide warmth. She soon returned, carrying the logs to the small stove, which consumed far less fuel than the large, abandoned furnace in the main shop.

After a while, a warm aroma permeated his senses: the smell of coarse flour mixed with dried wild roots. It was a meager meal, but to a starving man like Sebastian, it felt like a royal banquet. Sebastian ate ravenously, while Ellen took only small bites, watching him with eyes that held a mysterious resolve.

Night fell quickly, and the room was plunged into total darkness, as they refrained from lighting a single lamp to save the precious oil. In that stillness, Sebastian heard the rustle of clothes being removed, then felt the bed dip under the weight of another body sliding beside him under the heavy blankets.

"The cold is bitter tonight, and the darkness fills my heart with dread," Ellen said, her voice trembling with a shyness he hadn't sensed before. "I do not want to sleep alone in my cold room." Then, with a firmer, clearer voice, she asked, "Sebastian... will you marry me and be my partner in this fate?"

Before he could find the words to respond, he felt her hand grip his, pulling him toward her with the strength of someone searching for a harbor in a storm. The chill vanished entirely, replaced by a sudden, fierce heat. They spent the night in a long embrace, facing the angry world outside with the warmth of their bodies.

The following morning, Sebastian awoke to feel a strange pulse in his veins—an energy that had not been there before. As Ellen rose to begin her day, Sebastian froze in place as glowing words appeared before his inner vision:

[You have spent a night of absolute harmony with Ellen. 5 points have been added to your balance.]

[Name: Sebastian]

[Innate Talent: Eternal Immortality]

[Attribute Points: 5]

[Current Realm: Unranked]

[Available Skills: Mind’s Eye (Level 0 - Requires 1 point for activation)]

The points flickered before him in the dark void, as if inviting him to change his destiny with a single touch of his will.