Darkness. Darkness. Darkness. Endless darkness thickened into a swamp, dragging her toward the abyss. Mio struggled fiercely, her unyielding will propping up her body as she reached for the faint light above. I must not die. I must not stop. There are things I must accomplish! Her mud-caked hand trembled, yet the glimmer of light grew ever more distant.

Help me!

Mio cried out in the darkness, her crimson eyes burning with resolve—but it wasn’t enough to conquer the shadows. Suddenly, a hand grasped hers. Light instantly banished the endless dark.

Slowly opening her eyes, she saw a wooden ceiling. The damp towel on her forehead felt cool and soothing. Mio reached up, removed it, and sat up slowly. She cupped her forehead, sorting through jumbled memories. She recalled forcibly replicating the Night Watch’s mechanical body, engraving magic circuits onto her flesh, disabling the soul furnace’s safety locks, and triggering the Soul Collapse. But… it had no effect.

Yao Ye had mentioned this world’s laws.

The world’s laws were absolute truth—rules set by the Creator at its birth, unbreakable by anyone. Only a Godslayer could slay a god here; no other way existed. Even if one replicated things from another world, if this world rejected them, they couldn’t become real.

Like firearms.

Firearms didn’t exist here. Mio could replicate them using the Fragment of Creation, but once out of her grasp, they’d turn to black mud and vanish within minutes. The world erased unacknowledged weapons. But gold coins? They’d remain, for coins existed here and were recognized.

Mio sighed softly, gazing out the window. The sun sank slowly in the west. The city walls’ shadow swallowed the view as Seralni descended into night.

“Mio, are you alright?”

“Deus?”

The sudden voice startled her. She whipped her head around. The Reaper sat by the bed, peeling an apple with a small knife—like a friend visiting the sick. Yet his presence was so faint that Mio, skilled in sensing auras, hadn’t noticed him.

“Have you come to take my life?”

“Take your life?” Deus waved his hands frantically. “I won’t fall for that twice. Losing an avatar to you isn’t a big deal, but it still stings.”

“Sorry…”

“No, no—I’m not angry,” Deus placed the apple peel on the table. “You’re the first who talks to me normally. Not angry at all.”

“That’s… quite an honor.” Mio lowered her eyes, gripping the sheets tightly. “Deus, a request: be my patron god.”

Clang! The fruit knife slipped from Deus’s hand.

“Absolutely not,” he said. “My power is built on humanity’s fear of death. I’m no different from your world’s gods. My blessing is death—no living person can bear it.”

“Luckily, I’m hardly alive,” Mio said with a bitter smile. “You called me a walking, talking embodiment of ‘death’—death’s personification. No god fits me better. I am death; you rule death. Doesn’t that suit?”

Silence stretched. Then Deus spoke. “Why do this?”

“Huh?” Mio froze.

“Mio, why?” Deus wiped tears from her cheeks. “You’re forcing yourself. You’re already crying. Why say such stubborn things?”

“I…” Mio turned to the window. “Just… sand in my eyes…”

“If it’s just sand, why that expression?” Deus sighed. “Look in a mirror, Mio. Your face is sorrowful. Devoting yourself to a hated god, accepting an enemy’s charity—why twist your will like this? Is it worth it?”

Another long silence. Mio lifted her head. “To protect important people, I need power. Even dealing with the god I hate most—I’ll do it.”

“If you just need power,” Deus said, “pray to the War God. A beautiful maiden like you would get his attention.”

“No. Different.” Mio met his gaze. “I want death—your power.”

“Could it be…” Deus looked shocked.

“Exactly. You noticed too.” Mio stared at her hands. “I felt the impact this time. I tricked you into giving a sliver of your divinity. Your ‘death’ harms Yao Ye—I injured her. Just a little, maybe a few hairs falling, but I did it.”

“So it was true.” Deus sighed.

“Lend me your power,” Mio locked eyes with him. “Reaper, I must grow stronger. To never lose again—I need your strength.”

Under those crimson eyes, Deus yielded.

“Alright.” He placed a finger on Mio’s forehead. “In the Reaper’s name, I declare: Mio, I acknowledge you as my vassal. I grant you death’s power. May my blessing stay with you, my Chosen One.”

Mio’s body glowed faintly. Power surged into her soul, calming the churning darkness within.

“Is that it?” she asked.

“Yes.” Deus nodded. “A direct bond with a god is quick. I granted two powers: bringing death, and guiding lost souls. But don’t be seduced by death. Don’t become an Undead wandering in shadows.”

“So I can do your job now.”

“Yes.” Deus smiled faintly. “As my vassal, my Chosen One, helping is natural. Work hard, and I’ll reward you—elevating your divinity.”

“Equivalent exchange. Fine.” Mio swung off the bed. “Time to prepare. That mummy, Iduchi, will come for me—I injured his master. Without prep, it’ll get messy. Thank you for your trust, my patron god.” She bowed lightly. “I’m battle-ready.”

“Be careful,” Deus said. “A friend’s blessing.”

Mio accepted the Reaper’s blessing calmly and left the room.