My Soul card is a Reaper-Chapter 753: The world of Irth (part-19)

Adam continued, his gaze still on the crystal. "If you capture him, if we extract his essence… there's a high probability that it could be enough."

Claire stiffened. She knew exactly what he meant. Her heart pounded, hope battling skepticism. "Enough to free Father?" she asked, barely above a whisper.

Adam finally looked at her, his golden eyes calm yet absolute. "There is a high chance."

Claire's breath hitched. A high chance. Not a certainty. Not a promise.

Just like last time.

Her mind flashed back to Beelzebub. How they had been told the same thing—that capturing and using his fallen essence would be the key. But it hadn't been enough. It hadn't worked.

She turned back to the floating figure, her fists tightening. "You said the same thing about Beelzebub," she murmured. "And it failed."

Adam did not waver. "Nothing is absolute in this world, Claire," he said. "But if there is even the smallest possibility… would you not take it?"

She closed her eyes for a brief second.

Would she?

She already knew the answer.

When she opened them again, her gaze was hardened, filled with unwavering resolve. "I'll do it," she said, her voice clear and steady. "Even if the probability is small, I'll do everything I can to capture him."

The glow of the crystal pulsed faintly, as if in response.

Adam gave a small nod of approval, turning away as his robes shifted with his movement. "Then prepare yourself," he said. "The hunt begins soon."

As he left, Claire remained, staring at the silent figure within the crystal.

"Father… wait for me. I will not fail this time."

*

The morning sun bathed the island in a golden glow, casting shimmering reflections over the turquoise waters. A salty breeze rustled the palm trees as the group sat down for breakfast at the beachfront, the scent of fresh tropical fruit mingling with the crisp sea air.

Azzy sat at the far end of the table, half-listening to the chatter around him as he quietly ate his food. His plate was simple—eggs, toast, and some exotic fruit Leiza had insisted he try. The others, however, were fully engaged in their island experience.

Wendy and Max laughed over an inside joke while Nash kept stealing bits of food from Ciesta's plate, much to her annoyance. Rina was busy snapping pictures of the sunrise, while her cousin Zack sat beside her, his gaze flickering toward Leiza and Azzy every so often.

Leiza, of course, sat beside Azzy, not particularly talking to him, but occasionally nudging his foot under the table just to see if he'd react.

After breakfast, the group moved on to the next activity—jet skiing and boat rides. The island staff had everything set up, and the excitement was palpable.

"Come on, Rael!" Wendy called out as she adjusted her life jacket. "You're not just gonna sit there, are you?"

Azzy, standing at a distance, shook his head. "I'll pass."

Max grinned. "Don't tell me you're scared of the water?"

Azzy just gave him a blank stare. "No."

Leiza chuckled beside him, stretching her arms. "He's my bodyguard. And I challenged him earlier to make a big sand castle for me. He has to follow my orders."

Ciesta, who was already seated on a jet ski with Nash, smirked. "You're really playing that role to the extreme, huh?"

Azzy didn't respond, and Leiza merely shrugged. "That's what I pay him for."

The others laughed and went off with their respective partners, leaving Azzy alone on the shore. He let out a quiet breath, rolling his shoulders.

The ocean was vast, the waves crashing softly against the sand. He could sense Leiza's aura among the others as they rode across the water, but he wasn't concerned about her safety—not here, at least.

So, instead of watching the jet skis, he crouched down and started building a sandcastle as he was supposed to.

At first, it was nothing more than a pile of sand. But then his hands moved with practiced precision. Towers formed, walls took shape, and within minutes, what had started as a simple pastime turned into something far more intricate. A grand castle, complete with small bridges and detailed carvings.

He was so focused that he barely noticed when someone approached.

"Whoa..."

A soft voice pulled him from his work. He glanced up to find Rina sitting before the sandcastle, her phone raised as she recorded a video.

"You're really good at this," she commented, shifting slightly in the sand. Her black hair clung to her damp skin, still wet from the boat ride. "I mean, I thought you'd just be some boring, overly serious guy, but this… this is actually impressive."

Azzy shrugged. "It's just a sandcastle."

Rina tilted her head, lowering her phone. "Nah, this is a masterpiece. Do you sculpt or something?"

Azzy shook his head. "No."

She chuckled. "Man of few words, huh?"

There was a moment of silence between them.

Rina's gaze drifted—not toward the castle, but toward him. The sun highlighted the droplets of seawater on his skin, his damp shirt clinging to his body, outlining muscles that seemed sculpted to perfection. The way his dark hair, slightly tousled, framed his sharp features didn't help either.

Unconsciously, she bit her lip. Damn.

"You're…" She cleared her throat, feeling her cheeks warm slightly. "You work out?"

Azzy raised an eyebrow at the sudden change in conversation. "…A little."

"Yeah, no kidding." She let out a small laugh, but her eyes lingered for a second too long before she pulled herself together. "Anyway, uh… don't mind me. Just keep doing your thing."

She returned to filming the sandcastle, but every now and then, she found herself glancing at him again.

After a while, Azzy's sandcastle had grown into something beyond a simple beach sculpture—it was a fortress. Ten meters wide and nearly three meters tall, it was an architectural marvel made purely of sand. The details were intricate, from arched doorways to tiny staircases, and even the illusion of windows carved into the grand structure.

The others had long since abandoned their jet skis and boat rides, drawn in by the spectacle of Azzy's relentless construction. At first, they had only stolen occasional glances, but as time passed, they stopped what they were doing altogether, watching as the silent, enigmatic boy crafted what looked like an ancient city out of nothing but patience and skill.

Leiza, standing a few feet away, had a distant look in her eyes. She wasn't saying anything, wasn't even smiling—just watching.

Watching him.

Her gaze wasn't unnoticed.

Zack, who had been growing increasingly restless, clenched his fists at his sides. He wasn't sure why it irritated him so much, but it did. The way Leiza seemed… entranced. The way everyone seemed to focus on him.

"Alright," Zack clapped his hands together, forcing a grin. "This is taking forever. Let's do something fun instead—beach volleyball."

The suggestion was met with instant agreement. It was getting close to noon, but the island's temperature remained pleasant. The idea of a quick, competitive match sounded appealing to the group.

Ciesta raised an eyebrow as she looked around. "Wait, we're seven people."

Zack shrugged. "We'll rotate players. It'll be fun."

Before anyone could suggest otherwise, Rina stretched her arms lazily and sighed. "You guys go ahead. I'm sitting this one out."

Wendy turned to her. "Huh? Why?"