Bai Ya couldn’t stay long. Once Yue Ge’s emotions settled, she prepared to leave. When their eyes met, both instinctively looked away—even Yue Ge caught a faint flush on Bai Ya’s cheeks. Even she couldn’t stay completely composed in this situation.

“I’ll go first,” Bai Ya murmured, barely audible.

“Mm.” Yue Ge recovered quickly, offering a slight smile. “Come back soon.”

Bai Ya opened her mouth but said nothing. She simply nodded and flew toward Galsis.

Yue Ge watched her vanish, then sat down casually. His gaze swept across the city. Gradually, everything stilled—even the falling sand slowed. When he snapped back to reality, both Bai Ya and distant Galsis had disappeared.

The clear sky darkened. Storm clouds gathered overhead. Shadows swallowed the streets like the end of days.

“How pathetic,” the Reaper chuckled softly.

Yue Ge ignored him. He took a deep breath, steadying himself, and met the Reaper’s gaze.

“Pathetic,” the Reaper repeated. It raised a hand. Death Aura swirled toward its palm, coalescing into a massive Reaper Scythe. It tossed the scythe at Yue Ge’s feet. “Pick it up.”

Yue Ge bent down. Surprisingly, the huge scythe felt weightless in his grip. Yet he couldn’t command its Death Aura—the entire blade had solidified into near-tangible form. He understood the Reaper’s intent instantly.

“I can’t beat you,” Yue Ge said with a self-deprecating smile. He didn’t drop the scythe. Instead, he swept it lightly sideways. Death Aura carved a visible rift in the air, as if slicing space itself.

The gap between him and the Reaper… wasn’t about how much death they could wield.

“Then die.”

The Reaper vanished. It reappeared before Yue Ge, a slender blade crashing down toward his head.

Yue Ge blocked it just in time. The ground beneath his feet shattered. He sank several inches, his body screaming under crushing pressure.

“Hatred.”

The Reaper yanked back its blade and thrust it toward Yue Ge’s chest. The blade elongated mid-strike.

Too slow to react, Yue Ge took the blade through his chest. Black steel, slick with blood, pierced his back. Pain drowned his senses. His body burned. He couldn’t breathe.

“Weak.”

The Reaper watched him, blue flames flickering within its hood. “Why not use my power?”

Yue Ge tried to speak, but pain choked his words. His breaths grew shallow.

“Pitiful.”

The Reaper withdrew its blade. Yue Ge collapsed.

But this was their domain. Even without his will, ambient Death Aura surged toward him, sealing the wound in his chest—his first injury since inheriting the Reaper’s power.

He edged closer to death. Pain threatened to shatter his mind. Darkness swallowed his vision. Life drained away. Only the Reaper’s restraint—missing his heart—kept him alive. Yet in that fragility, his thoughts sharpened.

“Stand up.”

The Reaper pointed its blade at him.

Yue Ge struggled to rise, muscles failing. Only after the Death Aura fully mended him could he push himself up. His clothes were soaked in blood. His face was deathly pale. Anyone would see he was barely holding on.

“What can you do like this?” The Reaper pressed its blade against Yue Ge’s throat. A fraction deeper, and it would pierce his windpipe. “Look at you. Where’s the spirit that once raised a blade against me? Pick up your scythe. Look at me.”

Yue Ge gripped the Reaper’s blade, ignoring the cuts bleeding down his palm. He rose slowly, meeting the Reaper’s gaze without fear.

“Show your power,” the Reaper commanded. “Or I’ll kill you.”

“I’ve kept wondering…” Yue Ge ignored it, speaking to himself. “Must I keep causing death? Must I kill others to move forward? I can’t understand it.”

Call him naive. Call him soft. But he’d never believed taking lives was right. If someone tried to kill him, their death was on them. But the reverse?

Would he eventually become that person too?

He couldn’t accept it. So he’d searched and searched for why it had to be this way. Until he realized: it was wrong from the start.

He might be mistaken. But he’d bet everything on this chance. No turning back—even if wrong, he’d just return this borrowed life. But if he couldn’t overcome this, he’d never move forward. He’d never help Bai Ya.

“Kill. Humans. Defiled Gods. Anything alive. All beings meet Death’s fate. That’s where your power comes from.” The Reaper’s voice was low.

“Then I don’t need this power.”

Yue Ge smiled. He dropped the scythe. In the same instant, he gathered every trace of Death Aura inside him—not to weaponize, but to scatter. He released it all, letting it sink into the earth.

The Reaper finally understood. It thrust its blade without hesitation. Steel pierced Yue Ge’s throat—but drew no blood. It passed through empty air.

Yue Ge stepped back. The wound reformed from Death Aura, just as he always did. He laughed—a wild, almost mad sound. He raised his hand. Death Aura surged toward him from all directions, cloaking his body until he wore a robe identical to the Reaper’s.

He’d gambled right.

No words. No thought. He floated off the ground. All death knelt beneath him. The untamable aura now obeyed his will.

“Brat…” The Reaper snarled. It seized the discarded scythe and swung with earth-shattering force. The shadow of its strike scarred the sky, splitting the heavens.

“Goodbye.”

Yue Ge’s mocking smile lingered as his form faded. The sky healed. He stood back in his world. In the distance, Galsis roared, its fan-sized claws flailing, molten rock spraying everywhere.

He was back.

“Haha… HAHAHAHAHA! I’m back! HAHAHAHA!”

Yue Ge threw his head back, laughing wildly, seemingly mad.

He’d never needed the Reaper’s power. That world overflowed with death—why borrow from *it*? The reason he’d lost control, why even the Death Aura rebelled, was simple: the aura inside him belonged to the Reaper.

That’s why it had asked, *“Why not use my power?”*

Now he’d escaped. He’d cast off every trace of the Reaper’s aura back into that world. His body felt hollow—but he was free. He was certain: without his borrowed aura, the Reaper couldn’t cross into this world so freely. If it could, that creature would never stay trapped in that hellish place.

That realm wasn’t as simple as the Reaper claimed. It wasn’t the Reaper’s world—rather, the Reaper belonged to *it*. Like Yue Ge, it merely used the death there. What the Reaper could do, Yue Ge could too. Only the scale differed.

Yue Ge lifted his hand. The Death Aura he could gather now was pitiful—barely enough to coat his skin, let alone form the full mantle. He realized where this remnant came from. He’d returned all borrowed power. What remained… was death he’d personally caused.

His Death Aura came in two kinds. The first was external death—usable even if he hadn’t killed the source, but temporary. It would fade and drift to another world. The second was his “essence”—death from lives *he* ended. That stayed with him forever.

But… this was enough.

He still had a choice. He wasn’t forced to kill to survive. He could fight with external death forever if needed. And now, he had a better target.

Yue Ge stared at the rampaging Galsis. A colossal Death Aura rose from it, blotting out the sun—a miasma of every life it had slaughtered. Thousands lay buried under molten rock. He couldn’t see them, but he felt their weight.

Earlier, Galsis hadn’t radiated this aura. Actually, after that first glimpse of the mole-rat monster, he’d never seen Death Aura on creatures again. The Reaper must have stolen it—all death from monsters he killed, except what he’d taken from Nilin.

Now, freed from that controlling aura, he saw the overwhelming death once more. This time, he wouldn’t fear it. He had to surpass that fear.

“Death,” he commanded, striding out of the building without looking back. He stepped off the edge, falling freely. Street-level Death Aura surged upward, wrapping around him like a new cloak. All death knelt beneath his feet—not repelled, but obedient.

A new Reaper had descended.