Published at 6th of June 2026 6:31 am

Chapter 2191 Death

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"Marshal Caesar..." Serafina furrowed her brows the moment she recognized the owner of the voice, hostility immediately surfacing within her expression.

The Marshal was unquestionably one of the most influential figures in the entire sector. Despite being merely a Martial Emperor, his authority, achievements, and terrifying reputation had elevated him far beyond the limits of his cultivation realm long ago.

For many years, Serafina herself had accepted missions and instructions from him repeatedly without issue. She received rewards he personally approved, carried out assignments tied to the Cradle Empire, and interacted with his forces constantly without harboring any resentment toward him whatsoever.

At one point, she even respected him greatly.

But all of that changed after his confrontation with her mistress, Helen.

The moment Caesar openly admitted that he had deliberately continued feeding Helen missions partially for the sake of humiliating her...

Something inside Serafina changed permanently.

From that day onward, she could no longer look at him normally.

Worse still, she gradually began blaming herself as well.

After all...

She had been the one constantly encouraging Helen to continue working with the Multiple Centennial Cradle Empire.

She had been the one helping organize missions.

Helping maintain relations.

Helping preserve that connection.

And now Helen had ended up in such a tragic state.

Ever since then, Serafina avoided Caesar whenever possible.

If circumstances forced them to interact, she deliberately kept conversations painfully short.

One sentence.

One reply.

Then immediate departure.

Yet now, seeing him appear here unexpectedly while she was already furious, something inside her finally snapped.

After several moments of hesitation, Serafina hardened her resolve and strode directly toward him.

"I ask that you stand beside what's right here." Her voice carried restrained anger while she pointed toward the Royal Soul Master behind herself. "Does it truly satisfy you that this person prevents me from attending my monthly visitation without any legitimate reason?"

"...."

Caesar looked at her silently through half-open eyes.

For a brief moment, Serafina almost thought he would genuinely address the issue.

Instead...

He casually shifted his gaze toward the Royal Soul Master.

"Hello, Ziegler. How are you and your father doing?"

"We are doing well, Marshal." The Royal Soul Master immediately straightened his posture and bowed respectfully, a broad smile appearing beneath his scarf. "I'm relieved to see you returned safely."

"Mn."

Caesar nodded once before simply continuing forward along the corridor as though the argument behind him barely interested him at all.

Serafina stared blankly for a second.

Ziegler Burton, meanwhile, remained perfectly calm.

And truthfully...

It made sense.

Ziegler was far from an ordinary Royal Soul Master.

He was considered one of the highest-ranked and most powerful Royal Soul Masters within the Burton Family itself. His great-grandfather had once fought side by side alongside Caesar during the ancient war against the Flame Empire, while his father currently served among the senior military advisors of headquarters.

Without Caesar, Peon, or another figure of similar status personally appearing...

Very few people possessed the authority necessary to order this young man around directly.

"...?!" Serafina finally reacted after watching Caesar casually continue walking away. "What was that supposed to mean?!"

Then she hurried after him immediately.

"Is that really all you can say? Aren't you going to give me justice here?!"

"I have no involvement in such trivial matters." Caesar answered without even slowing his pace. "Whatever the guard said, I support it."

"That isn't fair!" Serafina closed the distance between them again, genuine anger beginning to overwhelm her restraint. "How can you freeze all my points simply because a war is happening right now?!"

Then her voice rose even higher.

"Since when has the Cradle Empire not been involved in war?!"

"Heh~"

Caesar laughed quietly.

The sound carried neither mockery nor warmth.

Merely mild amusement.

"Did Ziegler tell you that?" He glanced backward briefly toward the Royal Soul Master before continuing calmly, "He's right. Go earn some new points."

In truth...

Serafina was not wrong.

Caesar simply had no intention of admitting that openly.

The war currently taking place on Planet Arkathion was certainly massive, but it was hardly the first catastrophic conflict experienced by the Multiple Centennial Cradle Empire. Throughout its long history, the empire had participated in countless brutal wars, several of which were no less grand or decisive than Arkathion itself.

Some situations had been significantly worse.

At the very least, on Arkathion they currently maintained superiority regarding ground armies and warships. Even against the enemy World Cataclysms and Nexus States, the situation had stabilized considerably ever since Royal Soul Masters began arriving as reinforcements.

The empire was no longer retreating constantly like before.

The true problem...

Was morale.

Not because the empire lacked morale.

Far from it.

The Multiple Centennial Cradle Empire remained highly motivated, especially after their recent string of victories throughout the sector.

But their enemies...

Their enemies had become terrifying.

The soldiers of the Seven Thrones Empire now fought with the desperation of people cornered against a cliff. Their fighting spirit burned hotter and fiercer than before, especially after retreating from countless planets and condensing nearly everything into the battle surrounding Arkathion.

To them...

This was no longer merely another war.

It was survival itself.

And people fighting for survival were always the most dangerous opponents.

They had already lost far too much.

Their honor had been trampled into the mud.

And if they lost Arkathion as well...

Their empire would cease to exist forever.

Because of that, their soldiers had begun fighting like cornered beasts.

Even those who lost arms or legs continued clawing forward with bloodied teeth, desperately trying to buy one more day for the empire where their children, families, and descendants still lived.

It was admirable.

Tragic.

And completely meaningless.

Because such determination alone could not erase the overwhelming difference separating the two sides.

Not anymore.

Even those willing to fight with their teeth until the very end would eventually have those teeth shattered beneath absolute power.

In truth...

Caesar himself normally would never have gone to the battlefield.

Too much time had passed since the days he personally led wars from the front lines.

Decades.

Perhaps centuries.

At some point, he simply stopped.

Not because he feared battle.

And certainly not because he had grown weaker.

Rather...

Because of what the Flame of Death did to battlefields.

Because of what happened to people standing around him whenever he unleashed his true power.

At first, his enemies were the ones terrified by him.

Then eventually...

Even his own soldiers began fearing him.

The battlefield atmosphere changed whenever Caesar appeared personally. Men who previously fought fearlessly beside him became tense unconsciously, watching him with hidden unease. Officers stopped approaching him naturally, while ordinary soldiers avoided even making eye contact whenever possible.

No one dared say it openly.

But Caesar understood.

He was not welcome beside them anymore.

Not truly.

The Flame of Death was not a power people wanted standing nearby while they fought for survival.

Eventually, Caesar accepted reality and withdrew himself from frontline warfare almost entirely, redirecting his attention toward command, administration, strategy, and politics instead.

And surprisingly...

He excelled there too.

The empire flourished rapidly beneath his management.

Wars were organized efficiently.

Resources flowed smoothly.

Internal problems were crushed before growing dangerous.

He became terrifyingly effective as a leader.

But after abandoning direct warfare...

Caesar found himself with something unfamiliar.

Time.

And so...

He developed a new hobby.

Studying the Fundamental Death Law.

If people would fear him regardless...

If standing beside him already made allies uncomfortable...

Then why should he continue limiting himself?

Why not pursue the very path his father personally handed him?

Back then, after his father emerged from seclusion following the coronation ceremony, he summoned his sons and commanders individually before presenting each of them with a new path toward strength tailored specifically for them.

Some received new techniques.

Others received modified cultivation paths.

And Caesar...

Caesar received something entirely different.

The complete inheritance of the Fundamental Death Law up to the Fourth stage.

Even now, Caesar still remembered the strange expression his father wore while handing him the record, saying that he suffered greatly while recording this.

At the time, Caesar did not fully understand what he meant.

But the moment he attempted reading the first line...

He understood immediately.

Even someone already deeply familiar with the Death Law could barely tolerate it.

The information itself felt wrong.

Heavy.

Corrupted.

Like trying to force his mind to stare directly into something human consciousness was never meant to comprehend fully.

After reading only a small portion, Caesar immediately closed the record and abandoned it for a long time.

Years passed afterward.

Then decades.

Eventually centuries.

Until finally...

He returned to it again.

This time, however, circumstances were different.

He possessed more time than before.

More patience.

And more motivation.

The feeling of isolation growing between himself and everyone around him had quietly become one of the greatest driving forces pushing him forward.

If he was destined to become something feared regardless...

Then he would at least become overwhelmingly powerful while doing so.

So Caesar began studying the Fundamental Death Law seriously.

And the results shocked him.

The amount of knowledge he obtained merely from forcing himself through portions of the First Degree was immense beyond imagination. His understanding of death itself evolved explosively, while his mastery over the Flame of Death increased in bizarre ways even he struggled to explain properly.

Things he once considered impossible suddenly became natural.

His perception changed.

His instincts sharpened.

Even the way he observed living beings gradually began shifting.

Of course...

The deeper he progressed... The stranger things became.

At first, the abnormalities were small enough to ignore.

Minor discomforts, occasional headaches.

A strange sensation crawling beneath his skin.

But over time, the changes worsened.

Many times, Caesar would wake from sleep only to discover symbols carved across nearby surfaces without remembering creating them himself.

Sometimes they resembled incomprehensible inscriptions.

Other times they were merely twisted phrases written repeatedly in uneven handwriting.

Phrases such as:

<Beautiful Death>

At first, he dismissed everything as exhaustion caused by managing the empire continuously.

After all, pressure, stress, and overwork could affect anyone eventually.

Even him.

So he ignored the warning signs.

Again.

And again.

And again.

Until eventually...

Ignoring them became impossible.

There were moments now where Caesar genuinely no longer felt entirely inside his own body.

At times, his movements would feel delayed.

Foreign.

As though something else briefly occupied the same space as him.

Whenever he closed his eyes, the world transformed into something unfamiliar.

Darkness no longer looked like darkness.

Living beings no longer resembled living beings.

And then came the voices.

Whispers.

Soft at first.

Almost impossible to distinguish clearly.

But over time they grew more frequent.

More understandable.

Voices whispering ideas into his ears.

Encouraging things.

Suggesting things.

Sometimes comforting him.

Sometimes terrifying him.

And after what happened recently on the battlefield...

After seeing the black fog.

The screaming faces.

The chains formed from negative karma...

Caesar finally reached a conclusion.

Whatever was happening to him...

The answer likely existed within the only known force in the universe that truly walked the Path of Death.

So he began searching through ancient cosmic records regarding them.

The Necrofortress Galaxy.

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