F-Rank Soul Eater-Chapter 148: To subdue

The shattered arena gates burst inward.

A formation of white-cloaked figures poured through the dust and smoke, boots striking the ruined stone in an efficient, disciplined rhythm.

Their arrival didn’t bring relief.

It brought gravity.

The Red Swords had entered the field.

At their head moved a stern man with a tight ponytail pulled back from a weathered face. His eyes were sharp, assessing everything at once—the multiplied rats circling overhead, the fractured crystal ants grinding in the air, the instructors struggling to contain the chaos.

And at the center.

Goldsworth.

Still wrapped in that breathing, bleeding red soul energy.

Lieutenant Rocky slowed only slightly as Instructor Eagle-Wing Eyebrows landed before him, robes snapping violently in the unstable wind.

"Lieutenant Rocky!" Eagle-Wing Eyebrows barked, voice cutting through the chaos. "You and your men handle the Corrupted Shade! The instructors will deal with the manifested ones!"

Rocky’s gaze sharpened.

"How did this happen?" he demanded. His voice wasn’t loud—but it carried weight. "Where did those Shades come from?"

Another section of seating collapsed behind them as a rat crashed through it, shrieking.

"There is no time!" Eagle-Wing Eyebrows roared back, fury and urgency mixing in his voice. "Move!"

For half a heartbeat, Rocky held his stare.

Then he gave a short nod.

"Red Swords."

Behind him, his squad stepped forward as one.

Steel swords slid free from scabbards in a unified hiss.

Unlike Goldsworth’s unstable, liquid aura, the soul energy around the Red Swords was disciplined. Controlled. Their blades glowed with clean crimson light that was steady and unwavering.

They didn’t rush recklessly.

They advanced with the intention to end this.

Then they leapt.

Six streaks of red cut through the smoke, all aimed at the same point.

Goldsworth.

But something shifted.

Two of the giant rats that had been circling Soren abruptly twisted midair.

Their wounded eyes locked onto Goldsworth instead.

Something threatening had pulled their attention.

Their shrieks changed pitch—no longer directed at Soren.

At him.

They dove.

The corrupted bloody soul energy around Goldsworth pulsed in response.

Hungry.

The first rat collided with the liquid storm.

For a moment, its massive body pushed against the red tide—

Then it convulsed.

Its scar split open. The strange blue and green fluids leaking from its wound evaporated violently as the red energy consumed it from the inside out.

It didn’t fall.

It burst into red liquid.

The corrupted bloody soul energy around Goldsworth surged forward like a living thing and swallowed it whole.

Goldsworth’s back arched.

A choked sound tore from his throat—not pain.

Something closer to ecstasy.

The veins of red crawling along his neck thickened, spreading across his jawline.

His aura expanded violently, pushing outward in a shockwave that forced two of the Red Swords to brace midair.

The second rat hesitated.

Too late.

A spear of liquid energy shot from Goldsworth’s body, piercing through the rat’s skull.

The creature’s shriek cut off instantly.

It exploded the same way.

Dissolving.

Feeding him.

Below, Lieutenant Rocky’s expression changed.

This was no longer containment.

This was growth.

Above them, the remaining Shades faltered in the air, their fractured forms twitching as if something deeper had shifted.

At the center of it all—

Goldsworth stood trembling.

Stronger than he had been moments ago.

And still changing.

"Formation 16!" Rocky’s voice cracked across the battlefield like a whip. "Red Swords—lock!"

Midair, the squad broke from their direct charge and snapped into position around Goldsworth in a widening circle. Each adjusted their altitude precisely, spacing themselves evenly despite the unstable winds of soul pressure.

Their discipline was immediate.

Their fear—if any—was buried deep.

"Crosses!" Rocky barked.

In one smooth motion, each Red Sword reached to their side and withdrew a silver cross—angular, mechanical in design, its surface was etched with delicate red Neuralink runes that pulsed faintly like living circuitry.

The metal wasn’t ornamental.

One could say that it hummed.

One by one, they pressed the crosses against the flat of their blades.

Click.

The crosses locked into place at the guard, fusing seamlessly with the sword’s structure. The crimson glow of their weapons shifted—tightening, refining, and sharpening into something purer.

Then they began to chant.

Low at first.

Measured.

This was more a prayer than it was a spell.

"By the Divine Circuit..." "By the Sacred Flow..." "By the Will that binds signal to soul..."

The words weren’t shouted. 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝒆𝔀𝒆𝙗𝓷𝒐𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝓶

They were offered. This was a chant to the God of the Neuralink.

As if requesting permission.

Beneath each of their feet, circular seals ignited into existence—complex arrays of rotating sigils and angular script. The patterns spun rapidly, then detached from the ground like luminous discs.

They shot toward Goldsworth.

One after another.

Slamming into the air around him and anchoring into invisible points in space.

The discs rose.

Stacked.

Layered.

Linking together.

A dome began to form overhead—crimson lines weaving into a lattice, enclosing the unstable storm at its center.

Goldsworth’s aura reacted instantly.

The liquid red energy surged outward, smashing against the forming barrier.

The dome shuddered.

The seals trembled violently.

Sweat beaded on the Red Swords’ foreheads.

Their jaws clenched.

Veins stood out along their necks as the pressure bore down on them.

The corrupted aura wasn’t just strong.

It was resisting.

Rocky stepped forward in midair, bracing himself as he drove his sword downward to reinforce the nearest seal.

"Hold!" he shouted. "You are not alone in this!"

The chanting grew louder.

More desperate.

The dome lowered inch by inch.

Meanwhile—

Above the battlefield, the instructors had fully engaged the crystal ant.

It screeched as a spear of condensed lightning tore across its fractured carapace, detonating against its crystal plating.

An instructor with silver hair extended both palms; dozens of translucent blades of compressed wind shot upward, slicing across the ant’s remaining legs in rapid succession.

Another instructor raised a staff, and from it erupted a spiraling column of white flame that engulfed one of the ant’s duplicates, forcing it back with a metallic howl.

A gravity-type instructor clenched his fist.

The air around the ant distorted violently.

Its body jerked downward as if seized by an invisible hand, smashing into the arena floor hard enough to crater it.

But still—

The creature endured.

Fractured crystal regenerated in jagged growths on its body.

Its Mandibles snapped at the instructors

And soul energy pressure pulsed outward in unstable waves.