There’s a weird feeling that comes with seeing your own body torn in half.

A feeling that isn’t pain but sure as hell isn’t pleasure either. It’s something far beyond both, something the mind isn’t really built to process.

And right now, I was experiencing it from the front row.

Most people die when that happens.

Somehow, I was still alive.

I was floating inside my Trickster Domain or, well… half of me was.

Because I sure as hell hadn’t managed to dodge Vael’runn’s attack.

I mean, the bastard was a God and of course this damn domain just had to perform its dramatic little card-dance routine before pulling me in, instead of just teleporting me instantly like a sane system would.

If it had skipped the theatrics, maybe I wouldn’t have arrived in two separate pieces.

Still, at least I wasn’t dead.

Small victories, I guess.

But the domain looked… weaker than before.

When I first arrived here, it had been a bit incomplete but pristine and intact. Now there were cracks spiderwebbing across the walls and pillars, like the whole place had been rattled to its core.

Probably because it had just blocked Vael’runn from tearing his way in after me and that alone was a very clear sign of just how massively I had screwed.

“I shouldn’t have tried that skill without preparation… or maybe I should have tested it right after killing someone instead of waiting an entire day.”

I muttered to myself as a cluster of crimson cards drifted toward the place where my lower body used to be as slowly my form began to regenerate, piece by piece.

This wasn’t my physical body but it was my soul and Vael’runn had torn half of it off like he was ripping wrapping paper.

Thankfully, my domain or maybe my mysterious skill itself had intervened at the last second. It had shifted all of me, my actual soul, into the upper half, while pushing all the leftover essence from Hel down into the lower part and that was the half Vael’runn obliterated.

I looked at the two system prompts that have been floating before me ever since I arrived here.

[Skill: ???? has been damaged.]

[All effects and its potential have been lost.]

[Skill: ???? couldn’t be recovered anymore.]

The skill was completely gone, probably because of the lost half.

And maybe… It was for the best.

I had noticed something during that whole mess.

The essence of Hel I had absorbed, the question marks skill tied to her, hadn’t responded to me at the critical moment.

Maybe it had a mind of its own and wanted to kill me for scamming its original owner or maybe, because it was death-aligned, Vael’runn had more authority over it and the damn thing decided to switch teams the moment he appeared.

That would explain why all the essence got shoved into the lower half, the part Vael’runn ended up tearing apart.

Maybe the damn essence wanted him.

Either way, relying on it could’ve gotten me killed for real.

And that taught me something important, never accept divinity from anyone unless it’s mine.

The Trickster had claimed he made sure the divinity I absorbed was “perfectly integrated.”

And maybe that was true, maybe that’s why I ended up as an Arcane Human.

But…

…maybe a fragment of it, some leftover resentment or some poisoned shard, got sealed away as a skill, just waiting for the chance to finish me off.

I mean, the skill description itself did say it was more curse than blessing.

“Fuck.”

I swear, all the shit I am getting myself into is getting way out of hand.

In one week I have met two Gods, three if you count the Trickster, died once, almost died again, got chosen as the successor of a lunatic and negotiated with another psycho.

Oh, and let’s not forget my cosmic stalker.

Wouldn’t want to leave that charming detail out.

This pacing is absolute garbage.

Can’t a man get some breathing room? Just a tiny moment of peace?

The closest thing I had to “breathing room” was in the second layer of the Forest of Unmasked where time was distorted.

Sure, time stretched to one or two months but I spent every second of it being tortured… so yeah, not exactly a vacation either.

Still, I pulled my focus back to the void I was in a few moments ago. My soul-body was still regenerating, so it’s not like I could do anything else.

“What was that bastard transmigrator even talking about?”

I muttered, replaying his weird ramblings from before Vael’runn showed up.

“Why did he freak out the moment I said I was a gamer too? And what the hell did he mean by ‘there are more’?”

I racked my brain.

Through all the madness, only one conclusion felt even remotely solid.

There were other transmigrators out there.

“…but how the hell did he know that?”

I mean, it had barely been, what, a day or two since he died and somehow he had cracked information that shouldn’t have been accessible to him in any way?

And it’s not like Vael’runn sat him down for a guided tour of cosmic secrets. I was sure as hell that bastard would never do something that considerate.

It all felt weird.

Either Lucien had gone completely insane from the sheer amount of pain he had endured in Vael’runn’s domain… or

…or he had seen something or someone after death.

Something that shattered him so thoroughly he couldn’t even cling to hope.

“And what the hell did that bastard mean by ‘you can’t escape him’?”

Who the fuck was Him supposed to be?

Was he talking about Vael’runn… or someone else entirely?

Logically, Vael’runn made sense, Lucien was in his domain, after all but something in my gut was telling me it wasn’t him.

“Is Vael’runn… perhaps also a transmigrator?”

No.

No way.

Transmigrators are supposed to take over dead mortals, not Greater Gods who crush souls with ease.

“But I’m sure he knows about transmigrators… at least from Lucien.”

Great.

So now I had to worry about other transmigrators and some mysterious “Him”?

Or worse… maybe they were the same damn thing.

In any case, I didn’t mind the heads-up about other transmigrators. I just hoped there weren’t too many of them… or worse, too powerful.

Because the last thing I needed was some idiot transmigrator coming after me for “knowing too much” or whatever other cosmic stupidity they might dream up.

And then there was that bastard Vael’runn.

“Why was he so angry when the cards appeared? And why the hell was he so surprised and furious after seeing me still alive?”

That part bothered me the most.

“Is he somehow connected to the bitch the Trickster warned me about… or did he mistake me for the Trickster himself?”

I didn’t know the answer but one thing was absolutely clear. Vael’runn was the last thing I needed to mess with for a long, long while.

—

Meanwhile, in the void where Rael had been a few moments ago, Vael’runn stood still with his expression twisted with fury.

The entire space trembled as an impossible amount of power erupted from him, warping the darkness around his form.

The torn fragment of the being who had stood there moments ago melted like liquid shadow and was absorbed straight into Vael’runn’s form

But Vael’runn didn’t care about that.

“How is he still alive?” Vael’runn muttered, voice low and vibrating with anger.

The void offered no answer and Lucien collapsed on all fours, didn’t dare lift his head.

“He should have been dead… so how?”

His voice dropped to a whisper.

“How is he still alive?”

Vael’runn turned toward Lucien and in the next instant, the distance between them simply ceased to exist.

Lucien now knelt directly before him, trembling like a cornered animal.

“Tell me everything you know about him?” Vael’runn asked, his voice quiet… far too quiet.

“I-I didn’t… know him.” Lucien whispered. “H-he said he is a ####% like me.”

That word again.

Vael’runn frowned.

He was a Great God, and yet there was a word that the Heavenly Principles themselves were shielding from him.

He couldn’t grasp it, read it or even understand what it was supposed to mean.

But after torturing the boy for a while, Lucien had slipped out one thing—he knew the future.

He could describe events that hadn’t happened yet but every time he tried to explain where that knowledge came from, the Heavenly Principles censored it.

And now the boy was claiming that the being he had met moments ago was the same as him, someone else who carried knowledge of the future.

That alone made several pieces click into place for Vael’runn.

“So… he isn’t the Trickster,” Vael’runn murmured, his eyes narrowing. “Then how does he possess that accursed domain?”

“A successor?”

He deduced as a cold smile stretched on his face.

He didn’t hate the fact that a successor to a being he hated the most had arrived…

Instead, he felt happy…

Happy that, at long last, he might finally have the chance to take revenge for what the Trickster had done.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep