Chapter 78: The Deity of Death
Seraphel
"It’s..." I gasped, the rest of my words catching in my throat as I pointed a trembling finger toward the shrouded figure.
The figure offered a sickening, triumphant smile from beneath the mask before slowly pulling it away.
Beneath it revealed a woman whose terrifying, pitch-black eyes were darker than the abyss above us, her neck etched with faint, sickly glowing vines that pulsed like venomous veins.
"Mirevale!" all three Sins shouted in unison, their voices dropping into lethal tones as they pointed at her.
Mirevale chuckled softly, her gloved fingers tracing the side of her face in mock delight. "Well, well, well... what a lovely reunion, Sins!" she hummed, her void-like eyes suddenly snapping directly onto mine. "And you... little human. I must say, I had the absolute time of my life watching you die so miserably in my loop. Seeing you suffer through death over five hundred times, only to be dragged right back to the start—what an exquisite fate!"
"Who... is she?" I asked shakily, my fingers still clutching at Azriel’s coat.
Even though a part of my trauma-ridden mind was still fighting to accept reality, the suffocating aura radiating off her made my stomach churn. "Azriel, who is that woman?"
"That is Mirevale," Azriel spat, his body tensing against mine. "The Deity of Life and Death... though her true obsession has always been death."
Deity of Life and Death. Mirevale. The name rang a distant bell. I remembered skimming through a Chapter written by Author Nude that mentioned her, but I couldn’t figure out why a deity from the higher realms was so personally invested in torturing Seraphel.
"Aren’t the beings from Elysium supposed to be the righteous ones?" I muttered, my mind racing. "Then why is she..."
"There are no ’good people’ in Elysium!" Uriel interjected, his jaw set so tightly his teeth ground together with every spoken word. "All that remains up there are power-hungry hypocrites who will slaughter millions just to claim what isn’t theirs."
Mirevale merely raised her hands in response. As she lifted her arms, the pale skin along her fingers began to crack and split open.
Dark, viscous shadows oozed from the ground like black oil, solidifying into hundreds of clacking, skeletal remains. Bleached bones knit together in seconds, wielding rusted broadswords and jagged spears as they rose from the dirt.
A true necromancer.
I was watching a literal undead army rise right in front of my eyes—a scene I had only ever read about on a screen.
The marching dead multiplied by the second, forming an overwhelming legion that completely circled Mirevale like an impenetrable fortress.
"That crazy bitch," Taizel growled, slamming his massive fists together with a heavy, metallic thud as his eyes flashed with violent hunger.
"Does this bring back fond memories of your time in Elysium, Taizel?" Mirevale taunted, her high-pitched laughter echoing across the barren plains. "I made sure the dead tortured you day and night back then. Such wonderful times!"
Taizel snarled, his golden-brown skin erupting in a blinding, radiant light. Within a single heartbeat, the sound of snapping bone and stretching tissue filled the air.
I watched in awe as his frame expanded—his skeleton growing from its normal height, elongating and thickening as his muscles swelled to monstrous proportions. In seconds, he towered over the landscape like a colossal, unstoppable giant.
"And I will make sure I devour every last one of your disgusting pets!" Taizel roared, his voice booming across the wasteland like thunder, shaking the very dirt beneath our feet.
Mirevale’s smile only widened. "I’d love to see you try," she purred, thrusting her gloved hands forward toward us. "Kill them!"
The legion of the dead surged in the blink of an eye, a tide of clattering bones and flashing steel rushing directly at us.
"Stay right here and do not step out, no matter what," Azriel commanded, leaning down to murmur directly into my ear.
Before I could reply, he pulled back and flicked his wrist, encasing me in a shimmering, blood-red barrier. He turned back to me, his fiery crimson eyes wider than I had ever seen them, filled with desperate concern that completely shattered my remaining doubts. His expression was so terrified for my safety, that it completely melted away the cold, unfeeling facade he usually wore.
"Listen to me, Seraphel," Azriel warned, his tone sharp yet carrying a warmth that rushed straight to my chest. "No matter what happens—even if those dead bastards break through and surround you—you do not leave this barrier! Do you understand me?!"
Looking into those intense, worried eyes, my heart hammered against my ribs.
It was him. This was the real Azriel.
"I understand," I breathed, nodding frantically.
Azriel gave me one final look before turning around, diving headfirst into the incoming horde.
Watching the three Sins move across the battlefield was like watching an uncensored, high-budget fantasy war film. They moved with terrifying, godlike precision, tearing through the undead legion like tissue paper.
Taizel moved like a colossal wrecking ball. His stretchy, monstrous limbs extended across hundreds of meters, sweeping through ranks of skeletons and crushing them into bone dust. Every time his elongated hands struck down a cluster of the dead, a dark vortex bloomed in his palms, hungrily siphoning their dark energy directly into his body to fuel his massive form.
Beside him, Uriel was a vision of pure elegance. "Let’s put these restless souls to sleep!" Uriel shouted, summoning dozens of floating, star-shaped daggers around his body. With a wave of his arm, the daggers cut through the air, piercing the skeletons and opening swirling spatial rifts that swallowed entire squads of soldiers whole. He flipped through the air, tapping into his dream domain: "Sleep, you hollow husks!" A wave of hypnotic, shimmering mist rolled off his robes, instantly causing the marching skeletons to freeze mid-stride, their glowing eye-sockets extinguishing as they collapsed into lifeless piles.
And then there was Azriel.
He moved like a streak of pure crimson devastation. Black-thorned vines erupted from his body, impaling dozens of dead warriors at once, while razor-sharp red spider lilies danced around him, slicing bones to splinters.
"HALT!" Azriel roared, channeling his Celestial Voice.
The single, power-infused word reverberated through the air like a physical shockwave. The powerful command tore through the minds of the undead army, forcing hundreds of skeletons to instantly freeze in place, their magical bonds shattering under the weight of his voice before his vines obliterated them into dust.
Watching them fight, a bitter knot formed in my throat. I felt so utterly useless. I was the vessel, yet I was sitting here trapped behind a protective glass while they bled for me. This body possessed no awakened power, no magic to defend itself, and I hated every single second of letting them fight my battles.
"I wish I could do something... anything!" I growled through gritted teeth, clenching my fists so tightly at my sides that my nails bit painfully into my palms, nearly drawing blood.
While I was completely consumed by my own frustration, a sudden, blinding sphere of black light shot out from the chaotic mist, heading straight toward my position.
BOOM!
The dark projectile collided violently with Azriel’s crimson barrier. The sheer force of the explosion shattered the protective shield into glowing shards, and the violent shockwave blasted me backward.
I flew through the air, crashing hard onto the rocky earth several yards away from where Azriel and the others were fighting.
"Well, well..."
Mirevale’s chilling voice echoed through the settling dust, accompanied by the slow, deliberate crunch of her footsteps against the gravel.
"There you are, little human," she whispered, stepping out from the smoke. She casually crouched down to my level as I coughed, clutching my bruised ribs on the ground. "You and I have some unfinished business to settle."
She chuckled darkly, reaching out with lightning speed and slamming her gloved fingers tightly around my throat, lifting me slightly off the ground.
I gasped for air, my hands scratching at her leather gloves as I kicked my legs, desperately trying to break her iron grip.
Mirevale merely brought her free index finger to her lips. "Shh! Don’t bother screaming. Not even your precious Prince of Lust can save you now..." She snapped her fingers with a sharp crack. "...because we aren’t anywhere near them anymore."
The moment her fingers snapped, the red sky and dusty wasteland vanished entirely. The background bled away, replaced by the jagged edge of a towering, pitch-black cliff. She shoved me backward against the edge, her hand still locked around my neck, holding me over the endless void below.
"I thought I was going to have the absolute pleasure of watching you die over five hundred more times in my loop until your soul completely shattered," Mirevale hissed, her dark eyes glinting with malice. "But those arrogant Sins had to ruin my game. Now I have you all to myself, and I can finally finish what I started."
"Where... where the hell are we?!" I choked out, straining against her grip as I forced my eyes to sweep over our surroundings.
Everything around us was utterly devoid of color—the sky, the jagged rocks, the void beneath us were all rendered in stark, unnatural shades of black, white, and gray. The only thing in this entire realm that retained its vivid color was me.
"What did you do?!" I demanded.
Mirevale threw her head back and laughed—a sound that echoed like grinding stones. "Very observant! They really did choose a clever human to become Azriel’s vessel. Welcome to my personal domain, human. This is the Death Domain... and this is where your story finally ends!"