I'm Trapped Inside a Prince as the Most Powerful Entity-Chapter 89: The Spirit’s Revelation and a Startling Truth

Adam felt a small spark of annoyance at the way the fat Spirit was talking down to him.

But his strong need for information, for answers he had been looking for for so long, quickly pushed aside his irritation. He had to understand. He needed to know who and what he was.

The portly Spirit continued to speak. Its voice was full of a smug, self-important feeling, as if it was very pleased with itself for knowing things.

"That’s exactly what I was trying to tell you before! When I first saw that boy, Eric, back in the council room, I felt a strange feeling. It was like a connection, a kind of resonance, but I couldn’t quite figure out what it was. I even mentioned it to David – you know, the Emperor – but he, in his usual stubborn wasn’t ready to listen to me at that moment. He was too focused on the rules and the accusations."

Adam’s attention sharpened when the Spirit said "David."

"You’re talking about the Emperor?" Adam asked.

There was a hint of surprise in his true, ethereal voice. He had not expected this Spirit to be on such familiar terms with the powerful ruler of the continent.

"You can communicate with the Emperor directly? You can just talk to him, like a friend?"

The portly Spirit looked genuinely amazed by Adam’s question. Its round, black eyes widened until they looked like big, dark saucers. "What do you mean, ’communicate with him’?" the Spirit asked, sounding very surprised.

"Haven’t you... haven’t you made a contract with your host yet? The boy, Eric?"

The Spirit’s question immediately brought to Adam’s mind the very recent contract. It was the one Millennia, his [System Interface], had quickly arranged with Eric, almost forcing Eric to agree because of the dangerous situation.

Adam remembered the sudden surge of magical energy. He remembered the feeling of a binding link, a connection, being formed between himself and Eric.

"Yes," Adam admitted.

There was a little bit of reluctance in his voice. He didn’t like to admit he had been forced into anything, even if it was for his own benefit.

"I have, just now, a few moments ago, contracted with him. But even though I have this contract, I am still... I am still trapped within that boy’s body. I can’t just leave it when I want to."

The Spirit’s surprise turned into complete disbelief. Its happy, jovial look vanished. Its round face now showed a look of profound confusion. It seemed to be struggling to understand what Adam was saying.

"Trapped?" the Spirit repeated, as if the word made no sense to it. "What are you saying? No Spirit can be ’trapped’ in a human body! That’s not how it works at all! That’s impossible!"

Adam was just as surprised by the Spirit’s strong denial. This Spirit seemed absolutely sure that Adam was wrong. "What do you mean, that’s not how it works?" Adam demanded.

The frustration he had felt for so long, the feeling of being a prisoner in countless human bodies for countless years, started to bubble up to the surface.

If this Spirit was telling the truth, then everything he had thought about his own existence, his long imprisonment, was completely wrong. It was a shocking idea.

The portly Spirit shook its head. Its round, ethereal form rippled slightly, like water when a stone is dropped into it.

"We Spirits," it explained, its voice now sounding a little bit sad, almost as if it felt pity for Adam,

"we can change hosts whenever we wish. We are not bound to any single vessel unless we choose to be. It is the host, the human, who must try to attract us. They must offer us their body as a place to live. They must make it a welcoming place for us."

The Spirit gestured with its hand.

"The Emperor himself, David, he asked me to come into him. He courted me, you might say. He invited me to share his being. I chose to reside within him, to be his partner Spirit. I did this primarily because his father’s body, David’s father, had grown old and weak. And David’s father, you see, he was a very dear friend of mine for many, many years. I stayed with him until the end. And now, David too, his son, I consider him a good friend. We work together."

Adam’s mind struggled to understand this new information.

It went against everything he thought he knew about himself and his situation.

If Spirits could freely choose their human hosts, if they could come and go as they pleased, then his own long experience was a strange exception.

It was a cruel puzzle. He had always felt like a prisoner. He had never felt like he had a choice.

"If that’s the truth," Adam suddenly roared, his powerful voice echoing across the calm, green, subconscious meadow, "then why am I bound to his body? Why can I only control Eric for short periods? Why am I a prisoner within him, and within all the others before him?" His frustration and anger were clear in his voice.

The portly Spirit looked genuinely confused by Adam’s sudden, angry outburst. Its earlier smug, self-satisfied look was completely gone. Now, it wore a thoughtful frown. It seemed to be trying to figure out what was wrong.

"Hold on a moment," the Spirit said. Its voice had lost some of its earlier confidence. It sounded a little unsure now. "That... that doesn’t sound right at all. Let me check something. Let me see if I can understand your situation better."

The portly Spirit slowly extended one of its hands towards Adam. A soft, gentle white energy began to flow from its palm. This white energy was luminous, glowing with a faint light.

It snaked through the air like a friendly white ribbon, moving towards Adam. It began to spread out, trying to envelop him. It felt like a probe, a gentle touch of ethereal essence, as if the Spirit was trying to sense Adam’s nature, to understand the bonds that held him.

But then, something completely unexpected happened. Just before the Spirit’s gentle white energy could fully surround Adam, a vibrant, powerful blue energy suddenly erupted from Adam’s own form.

This blue energy was raw, untamed, and incredibly strong. It burst out from Adam like a shield, or like an attack. This fierce blue energy violently pushed back the Spirit’s white probe. It was like a sudden clash of two fundamental forces of nature.

The gentle white light was scattered and thrown back by the fierce, bright blue blaze, as if it had hit an invisible wall.

The force of this repulsion, this pushing back, was so strong that it sent the portly Spirit staggering backward. Its ethereal form flickered and became unstable for a moment, as if it might break apart.

The Spirit looked like it had been hit by something very powerful. The soft white energy that had been around its hand completely dissipated, vanishing into nothing.

The portly Spirit stared at Adam. Or rather, it stared at the brilliant, crackling blue energy that was now surrounding Adam like a protective aura. Its jovial, round face was completely gone. It was replaced by an expression of utter shock, and a dawning, terrible horror.

Beads of what looked like ethereal sweat, tiny drops of shimmering light, appeared on its brow. Its round, black eyes, which usually twinkled with amusement and a know-it-all look, were now wide with an emotion that was hard to read.

It looked like a mix of fear, deep awe, and something else, something that looked like terrified recognition, as if it had just seen something it knew, something incredibly powerful and dangerous, something it never expected to see.

A single, choked word escaped the Spirit’s lips. It was a mere whisper, but in the strange silence of this subconscious plane, it seemed to tear through the tranquility like a thunderclap.

The word was:

"...King..."