Sora’s world had become a cycle of pain and darkness, the passage of time marked only by the arrival of the warlock and his minions.

  Each visit brought new horrors—rituals, experiments, and tortures designed to break him, to extract whatever dark knowledge the orcs sought. But amidst the agony, something had changed.

  The system notification he had received during his darkest moment had left him with a new skill, one he hadn’t fully understood at first. It had taken days—weeks?—to even realize he could tap into it. Divine Light Manipulation. The name was both comforting and, in its own way, mocking.

  [Divine Light Manipulation] – Oh, congratulations! Blessed with the holy glow of a thousand suns, and yet, somehow, still clueless enough to need divine intervention just to survive a little curse. The system had to step in and gift-wrap this power to save your sorry hide—because nothing says “chosen one” like being too weak to break a curse on your own. Bend the light, heal wounds, smite your enemies... but don't get too cocky. Uses 5 mana per use and an extra 2+ per minute to maintain.

  At first, the skill was just a faint flicker of energy, a whisper of light deep within the darkness of his thoughts. It took time to focus, to draw it out amidst the constant pain and suffering.

  Slowly, Sora began to understand. Each time the warlock or his orcs entered the chamber, he worked to hide his newfound power, knowing that if they discovered it, they’d either strip it from him or use it against him.

  The experiments were relentless. They ranged from dark rituals to physical tortures designed to extract every last bit of information from him. But each time, Sora used Divine Light Manipulation to heal what he could.

  The worst wounds mended faster, but more importantly, he felt the purity of the divine energy washing through him, erasing the taint of the warlock’s dark magic.

  One particular session stood out. The warlock was using a strange device, a metal contraption covered in glowing runes, to attempt some new form of enchantment on Sora. It was a brutal process, and Sora could feel the searing heat of the magic as it flowed over his skin. His muscles tensed, and he gritted his teeth against the pain.

  The warlock leaned over him, his hooded face shadowed but his eyes gleaming with a cold, calculating light. “You’re resilient, I’ll give you that,” the orc muttered, his voice low and guttural. “But even the strongest will breaks eventually.”

  Sora didn’t respond mostly due to him not understanding what the warlock saying, his golden eyes locked on the warlock’s face.

  He could feel the dark magic coursing through the device, a malevolent force that threatened to overwhelm him. But deep within, the spark of Divine Light Manipulation flickered, waiting to be unleashed.

  As the warlock focused on adjusting the device, Sora reached deep within himself. The room was dimly lit, shadows dancing on the walls, and in those shadows, he found the strength to act. Not with the void, but with light.

  The divine energy flared within him, small at first, but growing with each breath. His thoughts locked onto the warlock’s device, and he let the light spill forth from his hands in a thin, controlled stream, purifying the taint within it.

  The runes flickered, the dark magic retreating as the light began to cleanse the device from the inside out.

  The warlock frowned, his concentration breaking as he adjusted the device.

  “What is this?” he muttered, his voice tinged with irritation. He tapped the device, his clawed fingers moving with precision, but the runes continued to flicker and fade.

  Sora’s heart pounded in his chest, but he kept his expression neutral, his body still and unresponsive.

  He couldn’t let the warlock know what he was doing. The light continued to flow, subtle but steady, eroding the dark magic that powered the device.

  The warlock’s frown deepened, and he stepped back, his eyes narrowing as he studied the device. “Something’s wrong,” he muttered, more to himself than to Sora. “The enchantment… it’s failing.”

  Sora’s mind raced with possibilities. If he could keep doing this—little by little, creating these subtle disturbances—maybe, just maybe, he could find a way to escape.

  Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

  Divine Light Manipulation was his only hope, a secret weapon hidden beneath the layers of his suffering.

  The experiments continued, each one more brutal than the last. But with each session, Sora grew more adept at using his new skill.

  He learned to channel the light in small, controlled bursts, just enough to disrupt the warlock’s work without drawing attention to himself. He used it to heal his wounds, to cleanse the taint of the dark magic that lingered in his body.

  And as the days passed, he began to notice something else. The light wasn’t just a tool—it was a source of strength. It filled him with a sense of purpose, a flicker of hope amidst the darkness.

  He didn’t know where the skill had come from or why the system had given it to him, but he was grateful for it.

  One night, as the warlock and his minions left the chamber, Sora lay on the cold stone table, his body trembling with exhaustion. The light within him flickered faintly, a small but steady flame in the darkness. He closed his eyes, focusing on the warmth of the divine energy, letting it wash over him like a soothing balm.

  I’m not broken, he thought, his resolve hardening. Not yet.

  The light was his secret, his weapon, his hope. And as long as it burned within him, he would find a way to escape.

  No matter how long it took, no matter how much pain he had to endure, he would survive.

  And when the time came, he would use the light to smite his enemies and reclaim his freedom.

  For now, though, he would bide his time, gathering his strength and waiting for the right moment. The warlock and his orcs thought they had broken him, but they were wrong.

  Sora was still alive, still fighting. And as long as he had the light, he would never give up.

  Days passed, maybe weeks—I couldn’t tell anymore. Every moment felt like an eternity as I remained bound in the cold, dark chamber. But in those long, agonizing stretches of time, I learned how to master my new power. The Divine Light became my secret weapon, something I carefully honed while the warlock and his orcs believed me to be nothing more than a broken prisoner.

  Each time the warlock experimented on me, I used the smallest fraction of my power to test the limits of what I could do. It started with little things—manipulating the way the light bend making it harder for them to see my movements. I make subtly purify the warlock's devices.

  He cursed often, frustrated that his magic wouldn’t cooperate, oblivious to the subtle sabotage I was weaving into his experiments.

  After what felt like an eternity of suffering, I had honed the Divine Light to a razor’s edge, perfecting every detail of my plan. Days of enduring the warlock's cruel experiments had made me stronger.

  And now, I was ready to use it.

  The warlock was in the room, his back turned preparing another of his twisted experiments.

  He had no idea what was about to happen.

  The other orcs stationed around the chamber were equally oblivious, standing guard as if Sora were still just a helpless prisoner which he technically is.

  But I wasn’t helpless anymore.

  Closing his eyes, drawing on the magic, letting it build within me. The familiar hum of the light shining in the back of my mind, growing louder as he focused on the space around around him.

  Now.

  

  It was my chance.

  With a burst of energy, Sora released a beam of Divine Light a ray began to form in the room. The warlock stepped back, confusion and anger twisting his face.

  But Sora didn’t stop there. His body ached, his mana drained, but instead yielding he reached deeper into the light, summoning enough power to not only break the device but to start healing myself.

  The burns, the bruises, the torn flesh—they mended as the Divine Light wove through him.

  "What are you doing, get the harpy you fools, Tenebris obice."

  The warlock screamed something unintelligible, his fury rising, but Sora was no longer paying attention. He was free, unchained from the agony he had forced upon me for so long.

  The orcs around the room rushed toward me, weapons drawn.

  Calling upon the Divine Light, using it to form a protective barrier of glowing energy, keeping them at bay.

  The chamber was suddenly alight, filled with the brightness of the sun. Shadows scattered before me as the light intensified.

  One of the larger orcs swung his axe, but before it could strike me, Sora released the pent-up energy in a blast of radiant power.

  The orc was thrown backward, the axe disintegrating into nothingness as the light consumed it. Stood tall, my wings unfurled, glowing with the holy brilliance that the system had gifted me.

  As the warlock staggered back, focusing all of his remaining mana on a final spell—a beacon of Divine Light that would cleanse the entire chamber.

  Raising his hand, light pouring from his fingertips, and sent a beam of purifying energy straight into the sky. It cut through the ceiling, shattering the stone above, and pierced the heavens.

  The warlock’s tools melted in the heat of the divine beam, the twisted symbols on the walls burned away, and the darkness that had tainted this place was obliterated. The orcs scattered, terrified, fleeing the wrath of the light.

  The ceiling collapsed as the beam carved a hole through the heart of the warlock’s lair, the light stretching far into the sky, a signal.

  I had finally broken free.

  Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the light faded. The roar subsided, leaving only a deep, echoing silence.

  Sora opened his eyes, blinking against the dust and debris that filled the air. The chamber was gone—completely obliterated.

  The walls had been torn apart, reduced to rubble. The warlock and the orcs were nowhere to be seen, either killed in the blast.

  He staggered body aching but still intact. The magic still pulsed faintly within me, but the rifts were gone, the energy dissipated.

  Looking at my status to check on his health and how much mana he used.

  Closing the screen Sora tries to walk out as relief wash on his face.

  It had worked.

  I was free.

  For the first time since his capture, stood unbound, the cold air of the ruined chamber swirling around him. The weight of what he had done settled over him, a mix of relief and exhaustion.

  But there was no time to rest. Sora needed to escape this place, to get as far away from the warlock's dark magic and the orc village as possible. The Light had granted the power I needed, but I knew it came at a cost.

  A wave of exhaustion hit him, but I smiled.

  I had done it.

  The warlock’s hold was broken, his tools purified by the light, his minions scattered. For the first time since my capture, I was free.

  Stepping through the rubble of the chamber, Sora heart pounding with renewed hope.

  The Divine Light had saved me, and now, it would guide me to my next path.