Bro, I'm not an Undead!

Chapter 1275: The Real Deal

Fulina and Cyne sat in the untidy lounge, quiet as mice.

Opposite them on the couch, Rearren and his wife Milissa also sat in silence, but theirs was gloomier, darker, and heavier.

Milissa had been weeping for two days straight.

The chaos outside, the voracious blast and the splitting of Aigas into different times didn't bother her. She had clung to her husband, making sure he felt her furious blame at all times. Even now, Milissa was clawing at Rearren's thigh so terribly that blood oozed from it, but the man had too many of his own demons to worry about. Pain was a luxury train back to reality.

The two EverSwords were drifting in a void much too deep to be with limit.

Rearren had staked everything he had, everything he owned towards Actuass' dream and now, he had little to show for it. The masked man had perished, but he had left behind a relic that was to be given to Rearren's son. The boy had been chosen. Just in case Actuass fell, the relic, the book Rearren had received, was supposed to do some good that Rearren himself had not been sure of back then. But even now, he wasn't sure what that relic had ended up doing to Rias.

One thing was clear, though.

The thing walking around in his son's skin, was not his son.

It couldn't be.

But it couldn't be Actuass either.

Fulina and Cyne could confirm.

Their gloomy sorrows arose from the fact that the presence Rias now embodied was similar to Actuass', but the man they had served was absent. Only his power was still floating around, but his soul was gone.

Perhaps he truly had perished.

Cyne had been quick to dismiss Fulina's worries that this had been the case after Rearren had come to find them days ago, but now, he joined her in the certainty they were wayward souls now with no goal.

The first thing Rias had commanded them after being exposed to the book that Actuass left behind, was to find Revia, who had escaped with Alaris and Ruhrees days before.

The two had searched, but they hadn't managed to find the girl.

They only managed to determine her destination: the Purity headquarters.

But they could not approach and attempt to retrieve her. Facing such an organisation without

a plan would certainly be suicidal, even for Cyne, who had once managed to steal the bodies of Fulgardt's Chosen from Emeradis. But that had only been possible with careful planning over many years.

And thus, here they were.

Rearren's eyes turned to the balcony.

There, his son stood, looking up into the evening sky.

The young man's black and blue hair was the same, but the crushing, greenish-black presence of Undeath was new.

Rias had remained fixed on this balcony for the last hour and or so. He seemed to be seeing something that the rest couldn't.

Rearren imagined that there were more than a few sights to see. Though he hadn't much cared enough to check the state of the world, he was sure it was in fumes or worse yet, flames.

Rias took a deep breath.

He was not Actuass.

Actuass was indeed dead, but his ideals weren't, and neither were his powers.

Rias had received Actuass' Undeath Concept, and his memories, tied closely to what the masked man had believed and wished to see fulfilled.

This was why his demeanour had suddenly changed. The boy didn't care to correct his mother and father. That wasn't a pressing objective.

As for what he had been doing on the balcony. Well...

The boy had been using his advanced sight to analyse the appearances of the creatures swarming Aigas at this moment; they were dark and stone-like. They didn't expel any obvious presences of mana or any other energy. Rias watched as they assaulted people left and right, thinking...

'Even if Aigas reaches its lowest point yet, I shall not die. Not again,' he thought.

At that moment, a figure suddenly appeared beside Rias on the balcony. There was no prelude to its arrival. It was swift despite how large it was.

Rias did not flinch, but his soul trembled.

The hunk of a man standing beside him, broad-shouldered with a bold frame, was dressed in a cloak of darkness. But this darkness was too deep to be called a colour, and all around it, the image of reality seemed to unravel. The man's long, dark hair was the same. Even though no radiance came from his sharp, almond-shaped eyes, they seemed lit with something, perhaps passion or intrigue.

The man's presence only registered a moment after he landed on the balcony.

All of a sudden, everyone inside scrambled out, alarmed, but they quickly froze.

Rearren stopped. Cyne and Fulina sucked in deep breaths. This new arrival was really bad news!

The man standing beside Rias glanced at them, and they all collapsed in a heap.

Rias turned behind him to the unconscious four, and then looked back at the tall man.

"Can I help you?" he asked.

The man smirked.

He walked inside the house and grabbed the curtains. He felt the textures. He then walked back to the balcony and looked below, where Fulina's undead were still chanting an eternal

chorus.

The man sniggered.

"The future does not look that impressive," he said. He then looked at the visible swarms of Cavern in the distance. "And it seems to me, it is severely lacking guard. Where are the so- called gods that everyone marches behind in my time? Did they abandon this world? Haha. Now that would be Reality's best jest."

Rias frowned.

His instincts started kicking in, fuelled by the knowledge from Actuass' memories.

'This man...' he thought.

Undeath blazed from him calmly.

The man in the cloak waved a hand.

"Don't be so tense. If I wanted you dead, I would have ripped your head off from a distance you can't fathom. And the only reason I came here is because..."

The man raised Rias' chin.

"...you, or whoever did this to you has a mind remarkably like mine. Or at least a knack for preservation. I have been planning a similar method to extend my essence without the need to incarnate in a new person. It is fascinating that someone from the future devised a similar method, and by the looks of it, they weren't even a Divine. Haha! But no. Such talent can't have come from Aigas, not with this abysmal mana in the air."

Rias narrowed his eyes.

His instincts had been right all along.

The man before him was...

"You are a remarkable fellow. I sense great knowledge in that mind of yours. I believe you

have a lot you can tell and show me, even as a necromancer. Ah, you seem to possess something else too. A fun technique," Fulgardt said, his eyes piercing through Rias.

Rias pushed Fulgardt's hand away.

He couldn't tolerate being handled like a maiden.

"Indeed, I have much I can tell you. Much I can show. But even against you, I demand that there be some kind of bargain. I will require something in return," Rias said. "Oh, you know who I am?" Fulgardt said with a sniffy laugh. "Good. How bold. I do like bargaining. Some would say I am a wonderful fiend when it comes to bargains. If you have wishes and hopes that run very deep, generating a hot enough fever, I will grant them. I excel at such things. But I will only gift you that much once you've told me all I need to know."

Fulgardt looked once again at the chaos.

"I must understand what's caused the world to reach such a state, though I can already point

to one of the reasons."

And indeed. For someone like Fulgardt, detecting the pulse of a Deity's signature was simple. However, he was used to being able to perceive the muted pressures of all four Deities of Aigas, but now he could only sense two, and one of them was close and boisterous. "Very well. Let's sit and discuss. I would like to hear from which period exactly you fail from,"

Rias and with that, he escorted the Immoral to a table and they sat down. Soon, they were discussing casually, like old friends or perhaps similar men born in different times.

***

A series of indestructible blobs had been hidden away in darkness after their extraction. They burned with yearning, seeking the vessel they had inhabited. Oh, how close that vessel had been from being complete. If only a few more of them had manifested, quickly patching up the tatters and holes in the tapestry, the perfect being could have been created.

But alas, their host had rejected them and stowed them in a lifeless, lightless place that forced

them to spin and whirl around without a destination.

However, something suddenly changed.

The WILLS sensed the presence of their owner.

He who had made them had appeared, whole and full.

He did not call to them, but they knew it was only a matter of time.

Soon, they would be free, and the host who rejected them would be sorry.

[Author's Note]

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