Bro, I'm not an Undead!

Empyrean Bosom.

Except for a select few, the survivors of Aigas – humans, beasts, Sif – had all gathered in the Bosom, outside all of the main buildings and sites. Strawlers were moving between them, tending to the injured, providing food, and essential comforts for the young.

It had been particularly terrifying for everyone who been branded with a golden mark on their forehead and warped here, but soon, they had realised that they had been spared from the chaos on Aigas. They had been taken to safety before they were killed by the irksome Cavern who raided the world.

Many were even beginning to wonder about this place. They pointed at the Empyrean Hatcher, the floating island above them, the strange construct that looked like an outhouse and many more fantastical things that existed in this place. They even wondered about the odd-looking sky that only seemed to favour the egg-shaped Empyrean Hatcher.

Most weren't ungrateful though. It was unknown if it was the Deities of Aigas who had saved them all, or some other powerhouse, but everyone was glad all the same.

"I wonder if life will ever be the same," said Damilla. "It's at times like these when I truly begin to regret choosing a Diviner Class. Now that I think about it, ever since that strange man wandered into Inhone all those months ago, my life started going down the drain."

Her audience, strangers she'd just befriended, gave modest laughs.

"You met a bad omen then – whoever that man is."

Damilla scoffed and tipped a glass full of a refreshing red juice to her lips.

…Then she fell over. Dead.

A distance away, a shady-looking man was animatedly telling a story to everyone around him. To his credit, he was especially entertaining. Many were laughing as he recounted his precious merchant adventures. Frock's Fresh Fables, he called them (an improvised name).

"Now remember. Nothing sells better than information. So, I gave them a map to the treasure! It was no ordinary treasure, mind you! I had found it! Me, a mere meandering merchant! I had found a Legacy left behind by legends from the age of Patkmas Yugji! I would sell it for a fortune!" Frock recounted (lied), gesturing like a madman. "And so I—"

…And then he fell over. Dead. Those around him didn't get to react to this. After all, they also died immediately.

In stark contrast to the mood Frock had been driving, Tulnas and the few that remained from his famed Harem Guild in Inhone since the tragedy that was the Great Trembling, were adorning sombre faces. So much had happened all in the span of a few days and he had lost so much. He couldn't even bring himself to smile.

Noticing something odd from the corner of his eye, he turned to find people dropping dead one after the other. Some remained standing, living, but the rest merely toppled over whether they were standing or sitting.

It was like a wave of death running across the open fields of the Bosom. Unfortunately, it didn't spare Tulnas and his harem.

Their souls were whisked away as easily as all the others and swept elsewhere for selfish use.

***

Fulgardt felt it at once and scowled.

His clones vanished, leaving him alone.

'What is this?' he thought and glared at the amalgam.

Weaver of the Right Festos Dawn wasn't smiling anymore, though.

His face had turned sullen and he was grinding his teeth despite himself.

"RAAAAAR!" Fulgardt roared. It happened right then. Seven million souls suddenly emerged within his body, supported by the marker Skullius had blasted into him earlier.

If he weren't Divine, he would have died right then, but he was in fact, Divine. He was Fulgardt.

The millions of souls pushed against his flesh and soul and then began seamlessly melding into both of them. The process was as horrific as it was painful. Fulgardt dropped to his knees, his face contorting into something uglier than sin. He clutched his chest, and was suddenly bathed in darkness. He glared at the new Weaver again.

"Relax. You don't have to be on guard. Even now, I know I can't sneak a killing blow on you," said the amalgam and he pointed at the Immoral. "This isn't meant to kill you either."

"You lousy brat…!"

The burden of so many souls fixing themselves onto his own grew too much for Fulgardt. He was beginning to consider his trump cards when…

"I'm merely taking away your freedom, Fulgardt," Weaver of the Right Festos Dawn said… and the Immoral vanished from his sight – from this world.

The amalgam gave a long, sad sigh.

He could have done this at any point after he'd placed the marker on Fulgardt, but it was no trifle activating it. It was a big decision.

With Suzamete's help, Skullius had devised a way to ensure that after all was said and done, Fulgardt wouldn't have any freedom at all. At the very least, his freedom with travel needed to be sealed.

But for that to work, Skullius needed to feed millions of souls raised on Aigas into the Immoral's own soul and body so as to empower his home ties.

Indeed, the souls melded into Fulgardt made him more of an Aigas baby anyone else. If he were to try and leave Aigas, he'd been warped back after only a short delay each and every time!

Now, the Immoral wouldn't have the power to roam about the wider reality as he pleased. At least for now.

Before he figured out a way around it, as Weaver of the Right Festos Dawn knew he would eventually…

"That's enough," the amalgam said, and [Bringer of All] was dispelled.

Weaver and Skullius were expelled from each other, and Weaver of the Right Festos Dawn was no more.

[…]

[Processing…]

]Processing…]

['Entropy's Harmonizing Nimbus' greedily—]

"I know," said Skullius dismissively and he waved away the guidance field notifications. He'd noted what his nimbus was going to do as soon he manifested back into his Default Body without it just now. For the first time, the Hybrid Warmoth's torso was bare, uncovered. His nimbus was greedily trying to absorb all the abilities that had been born from using it with [Bringer of All] just now!

All the new variations of nimbuses would be processed and assimilated into the Hybrid Warmoth both.

But Skullius was already done with the Default Body for now.

As Red Rage and Beyrmir flew down to him, he crossed his index and ring fingers.

"[Instant Embodiment of Perfection]!"

BOOOM!

A terrifying flood of Amras exploded from Skullius and pierced through the sky. It lit up all things, enthralling the surviving Maddeuwkah and shaking the world vehemently.

Indeed, it was the power of the War Body!

[You have accessed your secondary existence, the War Body (True Body)]

[Several conditions apply]

['First Phase War Body' has been enabled]

[Immortal Physique has been stripped]

[Stat increments have been stripped]

[Extraneous techniques have been stripped]

[To access the privileges of the 'Second Phase War Body', please endure against your enemies for five minutes without switching to Default]

[…]

[…]

[Caution! No enemy in sight! War Body activation will desist in ten seconds!]

Skullius sighed.

Indeed, the War Body did have this bit of a caveat. As a War Body, it could only be used extensively against an enemy. Without one, it would cease and pull him back to Default after ten seconds.

Skullius quickly turned to Weaver and said:

"Finish for me the process for Null Life Ota. I want to be able to use it in this body rather than my Default."

"As you wish, my Liege," said Weaver and he channelled all the Null Life Essences in his cores straight into Skullius and began the intricate work.

While he did so, Skullius gave a knowing nod to Red Rage who reciprocated with a little bow. That was all they needed to acknowledge what had just happened.

A mighty presence fell over Skullius' group like a cloud at that moment.

<I do not know if I should be thanking you all or cursing you.>

The Deity of this world was at a loss for words given everything that happened.

Skullius had no reply for him though. If anything, the Deity's voice only made him keen on his next strategy which involved a certain Deity.

"It's time, Luserus."