Soulbound: Dual Cultivation-Chapter 54: The Seer

Lucas paused. He couldn’t exactly tell her the truth, that he had lived another life, in a future where poisons like this had been studied and catalogued. Where elite cultivators had used methods yet to be found in this era. So instead, he offered a believable answer.

"I read a lot," he said simply. "I study old medical scrolls... manuals... I research things others overlook. I don’t like to be caught unprepared."

The Queen observed him closely. Whether she believed there was more to the story or not, she didn’t press. Instead, she nodded. "Good. Then never stop reading. It may be the reason my son wakes up in the next few days."

Lucas bowed his head slightly. "I won’t."

Behind them, Lira quietly adjusted a blanket over Darius’s legs, her movements gentle. She knew better than to speak now, but her pride for Lucas shone in the way she smiled softly at his back.

Meanwhile, elsewhere in the castle, the atmosphere had changed.

The King had summoned his personal Pulse Seer, a rare cultivator who could sense emotional residue and spiritual intention from recent events. Using their heightened Qi sensitivity, Pulse Seers could sometimes sense guilt... or lies.

With the entire palace sealed tight, interrogations had already begun.

Everyone, from the highest-ranking nobles to the lowliest kitchen boys was being questioned.

Lucas could feel the pressure mounting from outside the prince’s chamber. And deep down, he knew, saving Darius might only be the beginning. The palace was wounded now. And a wounded palace was dangerous.

Lucas stood beside Darius’s bedside a moment longer, watching the prince’s chest rise and fall steadily beneath the embroidered silk blankets. The pale hue had returned to something resembling color, and the trembling that had plagued his limbs earlier had settled into a deep, forced sleep.

Still, Lucas felt nothing.

He had done what needed to be done, nothing more. Not for Darius’s sake, certainly. He did it for the King and Queen. For the sake of peace and duty. And perhaps... just a little... because part of him believed that not every rival was meant to be hated forever.

He glanced at Lira, who was fluffing a pillow by the bedside. She looked up as if sensing his thoughts.

"Stay with him," Lucas said softly. "Watch over him."

Lira blinked, a little surprised. "You want me to tend to him?"

Lucas nodded. "He’s safe for now, but just in case. You don’t have to do much. Just be here, the physicians will stay too."

There was a pause, and Lira gave a small nod. "As you wish."

Lucas stepped back, took one final look at the unconscious prince, bowed to the queen then turned and walked out.

Lucas made his way through the eastern hall where a large set of double doors stood open. Inside, a line of shaken staff and courtiers were being tested by a woman in deep crimson robes, seated in a crescent-shaped chair adorned with sigils and copper threading.

The Pulse Seer.

She was a beautiful woman, flawless in appearance but with the kind of sharp, knowing gaze that made most people avert their eyes. Her hands hovered inches from the heads of those brought before her, and now and then, her eyes would flare faintly with white light as she murmured under her breath.

Lucas watched as the woman gently dismissed a trembling maid, then turned her attention to a steward, asking him to come forward without speaking. She was meticulous, focused.

Across the room, the King stood with his hands behind his back, shoulders squared like a man on the verge of erupting.

His jaw clenched, eyes scanning the room with the intensity of a lion hunting in a forest of shadows.

When Lucas entered, the King didn’t acknowledge him at first. But Lucas could tell, by the shift in the King’s posture, that he knew he was there.

"How many more?" the King asked, his voice low but heavy.

"Only a handful," one of the captains replied.

The King let out a slow exhale, the sound thick with frustration. "We’ve questioned nearly everyone in the castle. Still nothing." His eyes narrowed.

Lucas stepped forward. "Any progress from the Pulse Seer?"

One of the officials turned, recognizing Lucas. "She’s found no one yet. Only a few liars about where they were standing or what they saw, but none connected to the poison."

"She’s good," the King muttered, "but time is slipping. Whoever did this might still be within these walls, or worse, already gone."

Lucas crossed his arms. "You think this came from outside the kingdom?"

The King looked at him then. His eyes were weary, but no less sharp. "I have enemies, Xavier. So many, I lose count. But only a handful would dare move this boldly. And even fewer would succeed in sending an assassin this deep into my court."

Lucas said nothing for a long while. Then, "But you’re not ruling anyone out yet."

"No," the King answered firmly. "No one."

He turned toward the Pulse Seer again, who was finishing her next reading. She gave a tired shake of her head. The person before her was dismissed, and another guard stepped forward to call the next name.

Lucas looked around at the faces lining the corridor. Most were fearful, others defiant, but all carried the mark of uncertainty. Somewhere in that sea of gazes... perhaps... was someone who didn’t belong. Someone who didn’t care whether the prince lived or died.

The Pulse Seer finally dismissed the last trembling steward, her thin fingers curling as she lifted her hand in finality. "He is clean," she said, voice calm and steady, like water drawn from a still, deep well.

The hall quieted. The tension didn’t fade; it just sat there, heavier now that all the names had been called and still, no traitor had been found.

Lucas leaned against the marble pillar beside him, arms crossed tightly across his chest. He narrowed his eyes at the dwindling line of nobles and servants. Something... wasn’t right.

Lucas wasn’t even using logic anymore. His instincts, sharpened by two lives’ worth of hardship and survival, were screaming. He had faced betrayal before. He had seen desperation. These faces didn’t have that weight. The real culprit... wasn’t in this line.

Or maybe... not anymore.

He tilted his head slightly and scanned the chamber. Guards were everywhere. Windows sealed. Doors blocked. But someone truly dangerous would never leave a door open, or a trace behind.

"Unless..." he murmured under his breath.

Unless the person never left at all.

His gaze slowly drifted back toward the one person in the room who hadn’t been tested. The only one who had done all the testing.

The Pulse Seer.

She sat silently now, back straight in her chair, hands resting on her knees. Her eyes, shadowed and unreadable beneath her cowl, turned ever so slightly toward him, as if she had known where his thoughts would go all along.

Lucas’s blood cooled.

He didn’t flinch. But in that moment, something primal in him recoiled. He forced himself to look away and shifted his jaw, brushing the edge of his tongue across his molars to center himself.

You’re just imagining things. Paranoia after days of stress. But he didn’t believe that. Not fully.

Still, there was nothing to do. Nothing to say. He had no proof. No evidence. Not even a hint of a motive. The king would never entertain such an accusation, not against his most trusted spiritual guide.

But his eyes trailed back to her again, and this time, she met them fully. She looked at him.

Not like the way people glance. Not like nobles sizing each other up. No. She looked at him. Deep. Past skin, past his robes, past the very blood and breath that held his soul in place.

And she smiled. Lucas’s throat clenched.

She rose slowly from her seat. Her steps were fluid, quiet like a shadow curling around stone. She walked toward him with perfect calm, drawing no attention, yet somehow, everyone stepped out of her way. As if they instinctively knew not to get between her and her prey.

Lucas didn’t move.

When she got close enough, she leaned in just slightly, close enough for only him to hear, and whispered, her breath as cold as winter air:

"I see you."

Everything in Lucas locked still.

It was not a statement. It was not a greeting. It was a warning. A quiet domination. She had seen something, maybe not everything, but enough. Enough to know he didn’t belong. Enough to sense he was not like the others.

Lucas didn’t let his expression betray him. He refused to show fear.

But inside, a chill crept through his bones, curling down his spine. She had seen too much.

And worse...she knew he was beginning to see her.

The look they shared held for a beat too long before she turned and began walking away, calm and collected, her red robes swaying with each step.

Lucas remained where he stood, chest rising and falling with silent restraint.

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