Chapter 4

Deep within the Bulod Mountain range, a sprawling hall loomed. The walls were lined with ancient runes and symbols, hinting at the great power that resided within.

At the heart of the hall lay an altar, and on it, a sleeping elf appeared to be in his mid-20s, tightly bound by dark, twisted chains.

The elf, known for their delicate features and pointed ears, were known to possess great control over their mana and soul. They were often revered for their mastery of the arcane and their ability to connect with nature.

Elves usually had a deep understanding of the world around them, and through their connection with the natural elements, they could manipulate their surroundings to their will.

Their control over their mana and soul was something that they were born with, and it was often said that an elf's magic was as much a part of them as their own breath.

They could harness the power of their soul to cast powerful spells, and with their mastery of mana, they could manipulate the very fabric of reality.

The runes etched onto the walls of the hall were not just any ordinary runes. They were imbued with powerful, ancient magic that greatly restricted the use of an elf's mana and soul, rendering them powerless and weak.

The elf on the altar was no exception, and despite his natural affinity for magic and his mastery over his own mana and soul, he was unable to break free from the bindings that held him captive.

For years, the elf had been trapped in this cursed hall, subjected to the whims of the great powers that resided within the rune.

But over time, with unrelenting effort and sheer willpower, the elf had managed to weaken the magic that bound him. Now, the runes had a crack, a small opening through which the elf could feel the faintest whisper of his magic. 

However, he was biding his time for an opportunity to make a grand escape. He knew that if he attempted to break free on his own, it would take millions of years of grinding.

The elf's ears perked up suddenly, as if detecting the presence of someone of great interest.

The elf knew that he had to act fast. With every passing moment, the runes would slowly heal themselves, and his chance at freedom would slip away. He summoned every last bit of his mana and soul, channeling it into the crack in the runes. He felt a surge of energy flow through him, and the crack widened just a little bit.

With a desperate effort, he summoned every ounce of his strength and willed himself forward, pushing his soul through the widening crack.

As his small portion of soul passed through, the ancient runes and symbols suddenly blazed to life like a swarm of fiery insects, unleashing a huge surge of energy that crackled and surged with great power.

The elf felt the energy gather around him, threatening to crush his soul to dust. He gritted his teeth and steeled himself, determined make his soul escape the hall and start his plan. With a mighty surge of will, he pushed against the barrier that was preventing his soul from getting out. 

And with a final burst of strength, his soul finally broke through, as his soul broke through the barrier, it was as if a dam had burst open, unleashing a torrent of magic and energy that had been pent up for far too long. The elf felt a rush of euphoria as his portion of soul shot out of the hall like a bolt of lightning, leaving the ancient runes and symbols in his wake.

The air crackled with raw power as the soul of the elf streaked through the air, the wind whipping past his soul as he reveled in his newfound freedom.

He knew he couldn't let his guard down, though. The energy that had been amassed in the hall was still hot on his heels, seeking to pull him back into its clutches. With a grim determination, the elf's soul pushed himself even harder, weaving through the passageway within the cave's of Bulod Mountain range. 

But the energy was relentless, its malevolent presence always just behind him, like a predator hunting its prey. The elf's soul knew that he had to outsmart it, that he had to find a way to lose it for good.

And so he began to concentrate more and made a sharp turn down a hidden crevice in the side of the passageway, hoping that it would throw the energy off his trail. And finally, as he reached the end of the crevice, he risked a glance behind him, only to find that the energy was nowhere in sight.

The elf's soul immediately stopped and began to use his skill to assess his surrounding and when he finally confirmed that the energy is nowhere in sight he began to focus and meditate. The elf's soul had originally been just a small portion of normal looking soul, but over time, a stone-like object had grown within the soul. Gradually, this object had taken on the shape of a heart.

 As the heart took on a more recognizable form, the elf's soul began to grow other body parts, such as limbs and a torso. The process was not without pain, as the elf's soul had to stretch and contort itself in order to form the physical body. But the elf persevered, driven by a fierce determination to fully manifest in the physical realm.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the elf had formed a complete physical body. It was a remarkable sight - the body was slender and agile, and a tattoo could be seen on his right hand, with pointed ears and luminous green eyes that shone like emeralds. 

With renewed focus, the elf rose to his feet and paused for a moment as if searching for something. His keen eyes scanned the surroundings until he found what he was looking for, and a smirk spread across his face.

Suddenly, three transparent orbs appeared around him, slowly spinning in a clockwise direction. The elf's eyes glowed brighter as he concentrated, his gaze fixed on the orbs. A tattoo on his right hand began to glow as well, its intricate lines pulsing with power.

With a swift motion, the elf swiped his right hand across the air in front of him, and a spatial tear formed. The tear shimmered and swirled like a portal, beckoning the elf to step through it. Without hesitation, he plunged into the portal, disappearing from view.