Only God

Death God Nakbet stood midair above the Ajia Royal City, scrutinizing every mortal that came and went within the city.

The scythe, once shimmering with a frosty glint, was now darkened to a purplish-black hue. Upon close observation, one could see the blade’s patterns etched with skulls the size of heads; some screamed shrilly, some struggled fiercely, some awaited in silence, some appeared serene and gentle...

These were the souls Nakbet had reaped from among the Three-eyed Ape People these days.

Like a diligent farmer welcoming the harvest season, the reaper tirelessly raised and dropped his scythe, cutting down the heads of countless wheat stalks awaiting their fate. With every fall of Death God’s scythe, an untold number of mortals also left their bodies for good.

These days, Nakbet did not rush back and forth between the Netherworld and the real world but stayed put within the Ajia Royal City. There were far too many souls here waiting for his harvest. Nakbet planned to reap them all at once and then bring them together to the Netherworld to face the judgment of the Netherworld Judges.

To countless mortals, death was a secretive, obscure, even sinister and evil thing. Death was like an insurmountable river, where no material vessel could cross, and even the lightest feather would sink to the bottom. This shore of death was the known world, while the other shore was a land unknown.

But in the eyes of Death God Nakbet, death was no mystery. He could almost precisely predict when each life would end, how their souls would be harvested, and based on their actions in life, he could guess what judgment his Netherworld Judges would likely pass on them. They would then proceed to different regions of the Netherworld depending on the outcome of their judgment.

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After sensing something, Nakbet’s face revealed astonishment, and he looked towards the dungeon of the kingdom.

In the blink of an eye, he teleported into a dreary cell.

Moss crept along the walls; it was damp and chilly here, the sturdiest dungeon in the Ajia Royal City. Since its construction, no one had ever escaped from it.

Yet now, the cell once confining Xilan was utterly empty, causing even the scythe-clutching Death God to tremble slightly, his face clouded with confusion.