Chapter 50

Chapter 50
## Chapter 50: Ruler of the Departed

“So, the anonymous constellation is actually the Great Sage Who Pacifies Heaven?”

It was a puzzling thought.

While the Ruyi Jingu Bang belonged to Shakyamuni, it felt wrong to assume he would disguise it as a simple lock of hair. If the item had been altered to influence my path, the Great Sage was a much more plausible candidate.

“I’ll make the most of this.”

Regardless of the source, I intended to fully exploit the power seized from Ahram through the staff. To accomplish that, a specific step had to come first.

[‘Ruyi Jingu Bang’ extracts a unique ability from the imprisoned ‘Ahram.’]

The theft of power began.

At that instant, Ahram convulsed in agony, his form twisting violently like a manual drill.

—You… scavenger! Aaaaargh!

White King’s Bounty [Conclusion of Volume 2]

A unique skill.

Unlike standard techniques, these were personal manifestations of power, forged through an individual’s specific history and essence. They represented the peak of one’s lived experience. Naturally, they eclipsed common abilities in raw strength. Because they were tied to the soul, they functioned like “authorities”—absolute powers that could not be mimicked.

The Ruyi Jingu Bang was now stripping such an authority from the sealed prisoner.

—No, stop… please!

Ahram’s cries rang out.

Soon, three ethereal spheres filled with dark mist drifted from his form, looking like fragments of a soul being pulled into the light. These represented the trio of unique skills Ahram possessed.

—Just end me! I beg you, kill me instead!

It was a pitiful display.

He had failed twice. Even after consuming stars to bolster his divinity, he had been brought low. Falling in battle would have been honorable, but being caged like an animal while his very essence was plundered was the ultimate degradation.

“Swamp of the Dead, Sword of the Dead, King of the Dead.”

I recited the names of the skills as they drifted in their bubbles, watching Ahram’s face for any tell.

—Anything but the ‘Sword of the Dead’…!

Ahram shouted with desperate haste.

Sword of the Dead. Likely the source of that titanic blade he favored. However, it was painfully obvious he was attempting to deceive me. His physical flinching had been far more pronounced when I mentioned the other two.

“He’s a terrible liar.”

He was practically begging me to take the sword, but I wouldn’t be played. Expecting me to fall for such transparent reverse psychology was an insult. Then again, a man who called himself the Warden of Hell and ruled as a tyrant likely never had to learn the art of deception.

—No! Don’t do it!

I ignored his pleas and reached out.

[Acquired unique skill: ‘King of the Dead (Lv.10).’]

As the mist merged into my being, I felt the weight of the new power carving itself into my soul. I inspected the details immediately.

【King of the Dead (Lv.10)】

* Unique authority of the King of the Dead, Ahram.
* Commands and enslaves the deceased.
* Allows for the integration of dominated souls into physical vessels.
* Grants permanent stat bonuses when enslaving spirits of Raid Boss rank or higher.

The utility was straightforward. It allowed me to bind the dead and treat them as personal subordinates.

“This is the missing link for Master of Corpse Art.”

The skill perfectly addressed the weaknesses of the Corpse Crow’s natural abilities. Corpse Art was focused purely on “construction”—the physical act of stitching and assembling remains. Until now, I had no way to make these creations move autonomously; I had to rely on external crows to carry or pilot them.

With ‘King of the Dead,’ I could breathe a dominated soul into the physical shell. The vessel would then move under its own power.

“That explains why Andasar’s head was positioned there.”

The mystery was solved. The head had traveled there through the natural pull of this skill and, once within Ahram’s domain, had been driven into a mindless frenzy.

“Gains additional stats based on the rank of the deceased.”

The timing was impeccable. Andasar’s head was right here, discarded in a corner alongside the headless body of the Dullahan.

“Awaken.”

At my command, Andasar’s eyelids fluttered open. Having been subjected to this power once before, she fell under my sway instantly.

[‘Andasar’ has been successfully enslaved via ‘King of the Dead.’]
[‘Andasar’ is classified as a ‘Super Elite Raid Boss (Lv.9)’ spirit.]
[Divine Power permanently increased by 3 due to the domination of ‘Andasar.’]

My power surged. But the notification gave me pause.

“Wait, is this right?”

I pulled up my character sheet to verify.

Level: 6
Strength: 82 (72+10) | Stamina: 82 (72+10) | Agility: 82 (72+10)
Intelligence: 82 (72+10) | Divine Power: 85 (75+10)

My gaze fixed on the numbers.

“It targets base stats?”

These weren’t temporary buffs from gear that would vanish if I changed equipment. These were permanent additions to my core attributes. Even if the skill were somehow lost, the points would remain.

“It bypasses the level constraints. Truly a unique-tier reward.”

Normally, stats are capped by one’s level—usually ten points per level. My limit was twelve, but I was still bound by my current progress. This skill shattered those boundaries. It was, without question, the most valuable asset I had acquired to date.

—You… you monster! Gyaaaaa!

Losing his birthright was clearly agonizing. Ahram shrieked as the Ruyi Jingu Bang subjected him to reflexive punishment.

“Think virtuous thoughts and speak with kindness. Perhaps then the stinging will subside.”

The staff acted as a moral leash, shocking the prisoner whenever he felt malice. Furthermore, the loss of his skill had caused Ahram to physically diminish. He had shrunk from the size of a child to something no larger than two clenched fists.

“I’ll need to break his spirit to get the data I need.”

No matter his resolve, that level of pain was unsustainable. Eventually, he would talk, providing me with intelligence on the underworld and its sovereign. Ahram’s value extended beyond his stolen magic.

“After all, Ahram is also a ghost.”

He was technically one of the dead. Once I grew stronger or his will shattered, I could dominate him just like Andasar.

“Who… are you?”

A soft, hollow voice broke the silence. It was Andasar, speaking from the Dullahan’s grip.

“Do you recall a man named Priest Andrew?”

“That name… I don’t know it.”

She didn’t even recognize her own father. Like many of the dead, she was a wanderer with a blank slate. Her history had been cauterized.

“Do you have any memory of being an Elder Lich?”

“…Nothing. I know only my name, Andasar, and that you are my commander. Everything else is a void.”

Her hair was a stark white, contrasting with her crimson eyes. Even though her head was detached from her body, she remained Andasar. While she had been a core of chaotic rage within the hybrid monster, my domination had restored her sanity—though at the cost of her past.

“Perhaps this is a mercy.”

Her life had been a sequence of horrors: cursed by a dark tome, harvested by the Death King, and used as a battery by Ahram. Remembering such things would only be a burden. Forgetting was a far kinder fate. Priest Andrew might grieve, but starting fresh was the only way to find peace. Besides, if the Church of the Goddess found out his daughter had become a Dullahan, the scandal would be his ruin anyway.

“Master, may I enter?”

“Proceed.”

The Death King stepped into the chamber. As the owner of the fortress, he was naturally curious about my progress. He paused, visibly stunned to see both Andasar and the diminished Ahram.

“Impressive. You’ve brought both of them to heel?”

“One is still undergoing behavioral correction.”

—Aggghh!

The identity of the one being corrected was obvious.

“Haha. You didn’t just lock the gatekeeper away; you’re breaking him. You never cease to amaze me.”

“Why are you here?”

“The White King has finished his deliberations regarding your prize.”

The Death King’s demeanor had shifted. The initial curiosity had been replaced by genuine respect.

“I’m listening.”

“A domain. He is offering you any city you wish to claim. The other lords all govern their own hubs. Cramdel, for instance, is a shared territory.”

“Which cities are available?”

“The choice is yours. Which do you desire?”

I hesitated. The phrasing was specific. He wasn’t giving me a list of current holdings; he was asking for a target.

“…Any city at all?”

“There are boundaries. Anything in the southern reaches held by the Black King is off-limits, as is the heart of the Arhon Empire.”

“So, anything else on the map is fair game?”

“Precisely.”

It was a staggering offer. I finally understood the subtext.

“He’s willing to go to war just to give me a gift.”

It was an absurdly powerful reward. If I named a city, they would simply go take it. Of course, the responsibility of holding and managing it would fall to me once the dust settled, but the sheer scale of the offer was madness.

Was there any fortification the White King’s forces couldn’t breach? Likely not. Whether it was the golden spires of Arcana, the Knight’s Garden, or the major metropolitan centers of the various kingdoms—they were all vulnerable. Only the Arhon Empire, which players hadn’t even reached yet, stood as a peer competitor.

“I have to be careful here.”

This wasn’t a decision to be made in haste. I needed to analyze the geopolitical landscape to find the most strategic location.

“A man of your talent could take a city on his own, but wouldn’t it be easier to rule with the White King’s seal and the protection of the Death Lords?” the Death King added.

If they conquered a territory for me, it would be officially recognized as my domain under their banner. No faction in their right mind would dare challenge such an arrangement.

“Is an immediate answer required?”

“The White King isn’t known for his patience.”

The pressure was palpable. It felt as though the Star Guardians were also watching, aware of the competing offer.

“They are listening.”

I was certain of it. The Death King was the messenger, but the White King was observing my reaction.

“They view me as a threat.”

The White King wasn’t just worried about me joining a rival faction; he saw me as a potential usurper. He wasn’t treating me like a talented subordinate, but as an equal who needed to be brought into the fold or kept under close watch. He was forcing me to pick a side.

“Is there really a choice? All the Star Guardians offered was a ‘title,’ wasn’t it?”

The Death King knew about their offer as well. I had suspected he might. The Guardians had promised a formal title if I joined their ranks. While it sounded less tangible than a city, such titles provided massive stat boosts and unique prestige, like the Giant Slayer of Evil. Being endorsed by the Star Guardians would carry immense weight and likely unlock secrets to other celestial powers.

“In reality, that ‘title’ is a massive asset.”

Being officially recognized by the constellations was no small thing. It might even provide the map I needed to find the remaining stars.