Chapter 9
Sssssk!
Just like at the volcano.
A black space opened, and the same Death Messenger who had shown up belatedly at the volcano appeared. He stepped forward and spoke to the two Death Messengers who had come up to me earlier.
“Both of you, take the souls you collected and return.”
The two Death Messengers, startled by his sudden appearance, were embarrassed for a moment. Without further words, they gathered the assassins’ souls and vanished from the spot.
“…Lord of Death.”
Left alone, the remaining Death Messenger looked flustered and uncertain. His expression changed in an instant, however — it seemed the new Death Messenger whispered something to him. Unfortunately, I couldn’t eavesdrop on that part.
“I experienced it at the volcano, but he’s certainly different from the others.”
He was the one who, at the volcano, had pierced my divine power and sent a thought into me without much difficulty. That alone made him clearly superior to the other Death Messengers. Until now I’d only guessed his identity, but I’d just been given one clear clue: the Death Messenger called him “Lord of Death.”
“Lord of Death.”
It was probably a term for a Shinigami — a Death Deity. People often confuse Death Messengers and Death Deities, but there’s a real distinction. While Death Messengers guide lost souls, a Death Deity serves as the judge over that death. Their powers and authorities differ from the start. You could see it in how the Death Deity treated the Messengers.
“Remain where you are and wait.”
He ordered one of the Messengers who remained, then looked at me. I looked back at him.
“Not bad-looking up close.”
He must have been fairly popular in life. Though, of course, being handsome doesn’t matter once you’re dead and become a Death Deity. After a brief exchange of glances, he looked behind me at the family head sitting there, then spoke in a calm voice as if he’d come to understand.
“I have a rough idea of the situation. But I don’t have time to spare.”
Another difference between a Death Deity and a Messenger is that the Deity can, by their discretion, delay the guiding of a soul. That was the reason his arrival was welcome.
“Bansijin. That should be enough.”
‘That shouldn’t be difficult.’
A faint smile tugged at his mouth. When I first saw the Death Messengers, I planned to delay things even if I had to use divine power. But that wasn’t necessary anymore. That’s why it’s useful to know who’s in the group and who’s the leader.
“We’ve bought some time; now we have to trust the physician and the mortuary chest.”
If I wasn’t mistaken, they would probably manage. Anyway, with one problem resolved, I spoke to the Lord of Death feeling considerably lighter.
“By the way, is there someone I need to take care of already?”
‘No. We are preparing. Even the afterlife knows time is needed.’
“Then that’s a relief.”
I had wondered, but it was still early since I’d only recently started training. I shrugged.
“Then shall we spend the remaining time chatting a bit?”
A small smile also appeared at the corner of the Lord of Death’s mouth. Seeing that smile, he looked no different from an ordinary person. Where was the terrifying Death Deity in that look?
“Very well.”
The conversation wasn’t anything special — the Deity asked, I answered. Mostly about how this new life felt. It let me reflect on the time I’d just gone through.
“Looking back, you lived a pretty full life.”
From the hardships of recovering a body that was about to die to the reasons I stood here now. After hearing everything, the Lord of Death suddenly bowed his head.
“You have endured more twists and turns in a shorter time than we expected. We should have paid closer attention and prepared better. I apologize.”
I tilted my head inwardly at that. It was true that quite a lot had happened, but not to the point of warranting such an apology. What surprised me more was that he seemed unaware of some details about my situation.
“I thought you watched over me and came down when I was doing something.”
So I had assumed they had been watching and then appeared suddenly. But from the way things were unfolding and what he said, that didn’t seem to be the case. This was important enough that I needed confirmation, so I probed him gently.
“If that’s so, compared to my previous life this isn’t much of a struggle. More importantly, how did you know exactly when to appear?”
He immediately hit the core of my question.
‘Because it involved a life at stake. You dealt a killing blow — wouldn’t it be stranger if we didn’t know? If you’re wondering whether we were watching, I can say here, categorically, that we were not.’
I’d already sensed he was clever. If he’d been an enemy, that would’ve been annoying, but since he was on our side it was convenient. Still, I didn’t trust him completely.
‘In the martial world, clever people are the hardest to trust.’
That applied to allies and enemies alike. From my past life’s experience, I’d learned that. Even though this was a Death Deity and not human, he must have once lived a human life. For now, there was no reason for him to deceive me and no easy way to check, so I accepted it for the moment.
“I’ll accept that for now.”
He seemed to think I was hiding my true feelings, because he said:
‘It seems you don’t fully trust me.’
I gave neither a denial nor affirmation. Silence was the only answer I could give here. The Deity couldn’t fully trust me either. And sometimes silence yields better results. This was one of those times.
‘Understood. I will give you a small token of trust.’
“Token of trust? How?”
‘May I offer you a gift as a token of trust?’
“Proof?”
Before answering, the Lord of Death withdrew something from his sleeve. It was a small, thin writing pad — more like a handscroll or a slender notebook than a normal book.
‘Please accept this. It should prove useful somewhere.’
“What is it?”
‘It is my ledger of the dead.’
“You’re going to give me the ledger now?”
Give this? Really? I couldn’t help being surprised. I had not expected him to hand over such a thing as a token. A ledger — a book that notes people’s fates. Roughly speaking, it records who will die and when. Not as grand as the Book of Life held by the King of the Underworld, but it was still a supernatural object.
“Is it safe to give me this? What if I use it as I please?”
As I mentioned, Death Deities possess authority over life and death. They can’t kill the living on a whim, but they can save someone who should die. With this ledger, I could, in effect, do things like a Death Deity. It was, literally, a supernatural item.
‘We wouldn’t give this lightly.’
Even if the Lord of Hell had entrusted me with heavy matters, would they readily hand this over? As the surprise wore off, I assessed the situation.
“One important thing is missing.”
To use the ledger fully, one more item was required — a brush.
“If there’s no brush, this is only half of it.”
To write or erase names in the ledger, a brush was essential. Not just any brush, but a special brush held by Death Deities. They came as a pair, essentially.
“Are you not going to give the brush?”
At my question, the Lord of Death gave a pale smile and inclined his head.
‘I’m sorry, but I cannot give you that.’
“I was joking.”
I hadn’t really expected it. If he’d offered the brush, I would have refused. Power always brings responsibility. There might be a price to pay — they had already traded me a new life in return for certain demands. They might have asked for more.
“But use the ledger well.”
I took what he gave. Even without the brush, having the ledger meant I didn’t have to pay whatever price the brush might demand. It would be useful in many ways. For example, it might not help against natural death from old age or disease, but it could be used to deal with other causes, perhaps. That alone made the ledger extremely valuable, so some restrictions were necessary.
‘The ledger will usually list the names and causes of death for those who will die within ten days.’
So you could only know about who will die about ten days in advance. Ten days isn’t short, but it’s not a long time to save someone either. And that wasn’t the only restriction.
‘And the recorded individuals will be limited to those whom you already know.’
That wasn’t a problem. It wouldn’t make sense for them to care about deaths of people I didn’t even know. In fact, such knowledge would only make me uneasy.
‘Open it now.’
At his words, I opened the ledger to the first page.
“Huh?”
Strangely, nothing was written on that first page. Nor on the next, nor the next. That couldn’t be. I frowned.
‘At least the forbidden-tree’s name should be there.’
Had the name been erased because the person recovered? It hadn’t been that long since Bansijin recovered, so that didn’t seem likely. The reason became clear soon after.
‘You won’t see anything in your current state. Now I will open your spiritual eye.’
The Lord of Death reached out and put a hand toward me. I felt something invisible fly toward me. I could have dodged, but I decided to trust him and watch what he intended. The thing reached me and was drawn into my body. How to describe the sensation?
‘This isn’t of the living world.’
It was a strange energy I’d never felt before — similar to divine power but colder and darker. It was not an energy someone alive should have. One thought came to mind.
‘Perhaps it’s like this when you gather divine power in death.’
I briefly entertained that thought, but immediately dismissed it. I had no intention of earning such an energy by going willingly to the underworld again. Why, when I already had divine power? The thought stayed until the energy climbed up my channels and settled into my eyes.
“So this is the spiritual eye.”
Once the energy fully settled, the letters in the ledger that had seemed blank now shone clearly. My field of vision widened and my eyesight seemed slightly improved. Curiosity, not wonder, rose in me.
‘Is this how it works.’
It was a phenomenon built on an energy similar to divine power. Might the same be possible with divine power? I liked resolving curiosity immediately, so I moved my divine power the way the Lord of Death had demonstrated. At first I fumbled a bit, but with practice I got the hang of it.
‘Like this.’
Swish.
After a few trials, divine power began to gather in my eyes. But a small problem arose: the place where my divine power should settle already held the Deity’s energy.
‘What to do?’
I hesitated for a moment. Should I stop now, or push the Deity’s energy aside and occupy the place with my divine power? I might lose the spiritual eye I’d just obtained.
‘I’ve come this far.’
I wasn’t going to give up as if nothing had happened. I had lived long as a sword; I knew the world often rewarded those who dared despite risks. Rather than hesitate, I decided to attempt something bolder.
‘Mix the two.’
So I tried a third option — not the first approach, not the second. Since the energies were different but shared some similarities, I would attempt to combine them. It was not without danger.
‘If it goes wrong, you could lose your eyes entirely.’
It wouldn’t stop at losing the spiritual eye. But that was a risk I could accept. Life without eyes would be uncomfortable but not impossible. The real danger was risking my life.
‘But the ledger I glanced at didn’t have my name on it.’
That removed much of the hesitation. I closed my eyes and enacted the plan.
Vroom!
How much time passed, I couldn’t say. By my will, the two energies began to entwine. I concentrated more intensely than ever. One mistake could be fatal.
“Stop… right now…”
I heard the Death Deity’s urgent shout, but at some point I entered a trance and no longer heard his voice. Time passed. Then—
Bang!
A massive explosion erupted right before my eyes.
