"Anyone Buying? A Dead Man's Sword—Still Warm with Blood!""The Emperor's Forbidden Words, Original Copy! Cheap as your miserable life!"
The marketplace buzzed like any other fair—if you ignored the fact that everyone selling or buying here looked like they'd crawled out of a crypt.
"What's wrong, country boy?"The warden glanced back at me, probably noticing how I was staring around like a cat discovering a new room.
"…I just find it strange. I practically destroyed half a district, yet no one seems to care?"
"That's because no one does care."He raised both hands in exasperation, the way a tired teacher scolds a student for asking too many questions.
"There's no king here. No nobles. No rulers. Just us—more or less free souls. If we blow something up, we might get yelled at, maybe beaten a little. But for a tiny mess like yours? Who the hell's keeping score?"
"…I didn't understand a single word you just said."
He ignored me and pointed toward a distant castle gleaming black and gold."Your body stopped rotting a while ago, but wait a few more days and there won't be anything left to return to. Got it?"
"…That's where your so-called Black Heaven resides?"
"Right. And wrong. You're not just meeting Black Heaven—you're going to devour it. Then merge with its core and swallow your own."
Seeing my blank stare, he sighed."You'll figure it out once you're inside. Don't expect me to spoon-feed you every step, toddler."
I didn't bother arguing. I just started running toward the castle—black marble veined with gold, towering like a cathedral that had forgotten what holiness meant.But without mana, I barely made it a few dozen meters before my lungs screamed for mercy.
"Ha-ha… why the hell am I still tired when I'm already dead?"
The castle's golden sheen was peeling off the black stone beneath, like old paint stripped from a corpse. It looked less like a fortress and more like a forgotten church abandoned by its god.
Inside, blue flames flickered from half-melted candles. Shattered bones littered the floor like confetti for the dead.At the center stood a long dining table, every dish covered by a silver lid.
I raised my hand, feeling the pulse of something vile flow through it. The flesh swelled, bones cracked, and crimson boils erupted along my arm until it resembled a demon's claw.
"Guess you were right," I muttered. "The richer the air in death-mana, the easier it is to twist your soul."I forced my hand back to normal—barely.
"Of course. But overdo it and you'll stay that way forever," the warden said, striding to the head of the table like he owned the place.He sat down; I followed, taking the seat opposite him.
"Relax," he said cheerfully, "no one's going to bite you. Not yet."
"Alright… what is this?"He looked absurdly pleased with himself, gesturing at the feast.
"To reach Black Heaven, you need to cross the line between death and what comes just before it. Hard to explain. Let's just call them… minor trials."
I wasn't sure what to believe. The fact that there was any way to reverse corpse decay besides the original ritual already smelled suspicious.
"Hey," I said finally, "I want to ask you something."
"Hm? About what?" He tilted his head, genuinely confused.
"…Do you know anything about the Moon-Boned Wraith?"
He blinked, lifting one of the dish lids as he replied. "The what now?"
"A skeleton that's existed for over twelve hundred years. I think he's special. I want to find him."
He burst out laughing. "Who the hell keeps track of every two-bit skeleton lying around? Around here, anyone under five hundred years old is still a baby."
"…Then what about… a Fallen Angel of the Underworld?" I pressed, but he was still laughing.
"Now that sounds like a story worth drinking to. Go on—entertain me."
I sighed.No point expecting sense from him. May as well play along.
"So, when exactly do we reach this 'Black Heaven' of yours?"
"What's the rush? Why not enjoy the meal first?"He lifted the lid completely. Inside was a slab of rotten meat that looked like it had been gnawed by time itself.
"No, thanks—"
Before I could finish, a dozen pale arms erupted from the floor, clawing and tearing at my clothes.
Ha!
I tried to channel mana—nothing. My only option was to shift, to twist my soul's form—
—but when I broke free, I found myself standing in a field of blue fire.
At its heart stood a man in a white vest, holding a photograph.
"Hey," he said, smiling with a crooked mouth. "Did you keep our promise?"
That grin… mockery, mirrored in every line of his face.
"H-ha…"Each breath trembled. My vision swam as I raised my gun with shaking hands and fired into the shadows.
From behind, a figure appeared—silent, graceful—wielding a scythe.
SHRRK!
A single clean sound. Then my head hit the floor.Ron Irus—or whatever was left of him—died.
Darkness swallowed everything.
And then…
I opened my eyes.
A familiar voice asked softly, "You alright?"
I was back at the harbor.But why—why was I here again?