Chapter 113 I want to die
Jack didn't have the leisure of time to dwell on such a thought.
Before he could dwell on the thought, the bisected ghost began to reform, its body knitting itself back together in an eerie display of resilience.
"Damn it!" Jack spat, his frustration mounting.
The ground beneath him trembled as more banshees began to emerge. Their hollow eyes gleamed with malice, their wails cutting through the air like jagged glass. Each sound carried a weight that clawed at his very soul.
"Oh, shit," Jack muttered under his breath, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the Shadow Fang tighter.
The banshees swarmed him, their shrieks a cacophony of despair. Jack ducked and weaved, his movements erratic as he fought to evade their attacks. Every slash of his blade cut through their ghostly forms, but they reassembled just as quickly.
'This isn't working,' he realized grimly. His strength was draining, his movements slowing with each passing second.
[Soul Attack!]@@novelbin@@
[-100 HP]
[Host is in life debt.]
The system's notifications felt like taunts. Jack gritted his teeth, his body trembling as he fought to stay upright. The banshees' shrieks were unrelenting, their spectral claws tearing at him with savage precision.
It was too much.
Their cries burrowed into his mind, drowning out his thoughts. Memories long buried surfaced, unbidden and cruel. Faces he had tried to forget—his mother, his father, his old friends—floated before him, their voices mingling with the banshees' wails.
"Why did you leave us?"
"Jack, help me!"
"You're a failure!"
"Shut up!" Jack roared, swinging his blade wildly. The ghosts dissolved momentarily, only to reappear seconds later.
His knees buckled, his vision blurring as exhaustion took hold. The banshees circled closer, their cries growing louder, more piercing.
'Is this it?' Jack wondered, his thoughts growing sluggish. His consciousness wavered, the edges of his vision darkening.
[Soul Attack!]
[-100 HP]
[Full recovery: all soul essence consumed!]
[-100 HP]
[Host's life force critical.]
The skeletal figure on the throne shifted slightly, its hollow gaze fixed on Jack. It didn't move, but its presence loomed larger, heavier.
Jack's body hit the ground with a thud, his grip on the Shadow Fang loosening. The banshees closed in, their ghostly forms towering over him.
'No… not like this,' Jack thought weakly, his mind slipping further into darkness.
The last thing he saw was the skeletal giant's eyes burning brighter, their glow searing into his memory.
[Soul Consumption Imminent.]
[Host has died.]
The flickering notification blinked out of existence, and with it, Jack's vision faded into complete darkness. There was no sound, no sensation, just an overwhelming void that swallowed him whole.
'I guess… this is the end,' he thought, a strange calm settling over him.
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For a fleeting moment, he felt something close to freedom, like a weight he hadn't realized he was carrying had finally been lifted.
'I'm free again…' he mused bitterly, though the thought tasted hollow. 'So much for that idiot Great One's plans. At least now, I don't have to deal with any of those beings anymore. Pfft… I didn't need them anyway.'
But despite his defiance, a tinge of disappointment curled in his chest.
His life had always been like this—filled with disappointment, devoid of the things he longed for. Freedom. Love. Care. The simple warmth of someone who genuinely cared. He never had any of it. Not in his first life. Not in his second.
And now, here he was, dying in the most pitiful way imaginable. Again.
'I've ruined it all. Twice now,' Jack thought, his heart sinking with each word. 'It should all be over now…'
There was a sigh of resignation, but deep down, there was also hope. Not for another chance—no, he was done with that. He hoped for peace, for the quiet embrace of death to finally take him.
'Maybe death isn't so bad after all…'
But death, as it turned out, wasn't done with him.
From the suffocating void, a light emerged. At first, it was faint, a distant speck that Jack barely noticed. Then it grew, swallowing the darkness until it was blinding.
Jack's eyes fluttered open, his mind swimming in disorientation.
"What…?" he muttered, his voice rasping like sandpaper. He felt an eerie familiarity, as though he'd been here before. This wasn't the afterlife he'd imagined.
"Finally," a voice drawled, cutting through the haze.
Jack turned toward the source, his breath hitching in his throat. A figure stood lazily from a chair, stretching as though they'd been waiting for this moment for far too long.
"Huh? Who are yo—" Jack began, but the words caught in his throat as recognition dawned on him. His jaw slackened, eyes widening in disbelief.
The figure… it was him. Or at least, the body he'd been inhabiting for so long.
"Asriel?" Jack asked, his voice tinged with shock.
The man smirked, tilting his head. "That's the name this body had, isn't it?"
'Wait,' Jack thought, his mind racing. 'Isn't the original host supposed to… you know, die when another soul takes over?'
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," the figure said with a dismissive wave, as though reading Jack's thoughts. "That was Olion's plan. But it doesn't exactly work that way with me."
Jack froze, his thoughts spiraling. 'He can read my mind?'
The man didn't respond this time, though his smirk deepened, as if silently affirming Jack's suspicions.
'This can't be Asriel,' Jack thought, narrowing his eyes. Something about this figure was off. The confident stance, the piercing gaze—it was all wrong. The Asriel Jack remembered from the novel was nothing like this.
'Hell, he even looks better than the Asriel I remember,' Jack thought begrudgingly.
The figure laughed, a rich, almost musical sound that sent a shiver down Jack's spine. "I'll take that as a compliment. But you're right—I'm far more handsome. Not that it matters. The good news is, I can take control of this body now."
Jack's eyes sharpened. "So you can read my mind."
"Of course," the man said with a shrug. "It's a basic trick. Everyone at our level can do it. You've met Olion, haven't you? You should know this already."
"Olion…" Jack murmured, his thoughts flashing back to the Great One. "Wait, you're saying he can read minds too?"
The man chuckled, running a hand through his hair before tying it back with a casual flick. "Still going by that ridiculous title, is he? Figures. Anyway, we'll deal with him later."
Jack's mind reeled. "Wait… you're…"
"Yes," the figure said, his eyes gleaming with cold amusement. "I am the God of the Dead, Erebus. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll be taking my vessel back."
Jack tensed, his gaze locking with Erebus's. The god's eyes flashed with merciless intent, the weight of his presence pressing down like a mountain.
But Jack didn't flinch. He'd faced death enough times to be numb to its threats.
"So you've been here all along?" Jack asked, his voice steady despite the storm brewing inside him.
Erebus smirked. "Of course. That stupid 'white bulb,' as you call him, thought he could keep me locked away. But even his divine meddling has its limits. All it did was buy me time to recuperate."
He stepped closer, his movements graceful yet predatory. "Imagine my surprise when I woke up to find my body being used by an idiot like you. Honestly, I expected better. But I do admire your creativity—such delightful chaos you've caused."
Jack glared at him, his hands balling into fists.
Erebus waved him off, his attention shifting to the room around them. With a flick of his wrist, the space morphed, shifting into what looked like a control room. At its center was a familiar altar, its obsidian surface glinting ominously.
"Now," Erebus said, striding toward the altar, "I'll just take the controls, absorb your soul… oh no, wait. I'll shatter it instead. That seems fair, doesn't it?"
Jack stared at him, his expression blank. Inside, his frustration boiled over.
'Another goddamned lunatic,' he thought bitterly. 'Why can't I just die in peace? Isn't there some hell I'm supposed to go to or something?'
Erebus's brow twitched, a vein pulsing in his temple. "Idiot. You do realize I can still hear your thoughts, right?"
"And?" Jack said with a shrug, his voice laced with nonchalance. "Just get it over with already."
Erebus studied him for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then he sighed, his fingers brushing the surface of the altar.
A surge of energy erupted, lightning crackling through the air. Erebus hissed, pulling his hand back.
"Well played, Olion," he muttered, his lips curling into a smirk. "He's rigged it. Clever old fool."
Jack raised an eyebrow. "So… what now?"
Erebus turned to him, a spark of mischief lighting his eyes. "Tell me, Jack… do you really want to die?"
Jack's eyes narrowed, his lips pressing into a thin line. "Yes," he said flatly. "I'm done with all this. I want to die"
Erebus's wide grin fell into a wry smile.
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