Reincarnated With An SSS-Rank Talent In An Apocalyptic World

— Lee Bai's POV —

My search for a sword is not out of selfish desires.

This universe is rotting…

The heavens are losing ground.

The darkness keeps spreading…

Since the heavens have failed to protect its creations, I will step up and take their place.

If God cannot protect his creations, then he must step down.

I, the Almighty, will take his place!

[Door activated]

My rift tore open, and I walked into a familiar world—one that needs my utmost attention and resources.

"If I didn't have to protect you, I wouldn't have lost to those humans in Prime Earth," I said as I stepped out of the rift.

Ding!

[You have entered a living realm: Zakhara]

[+5 to all stats & 50 HP]

The air was soft with the scent of cherry blossoms.

Each step I took brushed petals across the stone path. The trees swayed gently overhead, their blossoms drifting down in slow, deliberate falls. It felt like snow—but warmer… more alive.

In the center of the garden, a low Chinese-style tea table waited beneath a wooden pergola wrapped in flowering vines. Two woven mats were laid on either side.

Between them sat a polished go board, the black and white stones already arranged just the way I left them before leaving.

I knelt slowly, the mat rustling beneath my knees. The breeze carried the quiet rustle of branches and the distant chirp of birds. My fingers brushed the smooth edge of the board, reminding me of my Earth—consumed by the same darkness that now plans to consume this world as well.

"I won't let that happen… I won't let you take another world from me!" I snapped.

Cough! Cough!

Blegh!

I coughed up a mouthful of black blood, gripping my chest tight. My throat was on fire, and it felt terribly dry—like I hadn't had water in a thousand years.

Huff!

Exhaling loudly, I sat properly and gazed at the cherry blossom garden. This place made me feel at peace—but that's all I could feel now.

I'm either at peace or in danger.

This power has stripped me of all my emotions. It has left me empty. But that also means it has nothing else to take.

This garden was located in the royal palace of my Holy Reclaim—a federation of once-divided races—elves, dwarves, humans, and celestial beasts—united under my banner.

A hundred and fifty years ago, these people were wary of me and refused my help when I offered my services. The other races rejected me because I was human, and the humans rejected me because I looked strange.

Now they all kneel and call me Emperor, because I am the only one who can save them from the darkness.

"The rejected becomes their savior, and the nameless becomes the Almighty… I have seen this so many times. Adam Black will not be any different," I muttered.

Thud!

Approaching footsteps had me looking up, and someone emerged from the staircase that led to my little garden located at the roof of the palace.

"Vee…" I muttered.

She is of Indian descent, a beauty to behold. Even now, her skin had turned pale and her once-rich black hair was completely gray—she was still beautiful. The black bindi on her forehead used to be red at all times, but 40 years ago, she changed.

As my curse changes me, so does it change my followers.

Vee is currently the oldest companion in my army—a woman half a step away from the afterlife, who begged me to save her… so I did.

As long as I live, she lives.

When I get stronger, she grows in strength.

And when I die, she will suffer the same fate.

But death is impossible.

The Almighty cannot be defeated.

"My love!" she yelled, seemingly frightened by the black blood that stained my lips, and ran over.

She has seen me in this condition millions of times, but it still terrifies her even now.

Vee ran toward me. Her giggling melons were a sight to behold. Their size was massive compared to her slim and petite build. I encourage her to run to me every day, and I'm happy she takes my advice.

She fell to her knees and quickly pulled out a handkerchief, pressing it against my bloodied lips. Her fragrance poured into my nose, leaving me mesmerized.

I wanted nothing more than to grab her and pull her into my embrace. Strip her naked and taste every part of her ravishing body—but a God must not give in to his impulses.

The moment I lose to my lust and carnal desires, I will lose my divine mandate.

Everything has its appointed time. We will make love at night. But for now, let's focus on the matter at hand.

"It's nothing, my dear." I gently stroked her gray hair while looking into her eyes.

She once had golden pupils, but now they were just pitch black—void of life. Sometimes, I hate myself for ruining Vee.

I should have let her die a beautiful, innocent lady, rather than drag her into the war of the heavens over a century ago.

"You must be thirsty," she said, her voice sorrowful. "Let me brew some tea for you," she added and tried to pull away, but I put my hand around her waist and pulled her in.

Our cold lips met, and our tongues found each other instantly, wrestling for dominance.

Vee grabbed my cheeks with both hands, letting out soft moans as she pressed her body against mine. Kissing wasn't enough—she wanted more of me.

I felt her hand gently run down my face and reach for my robe, so I grabbed them and gently pulled away.

She was reluctant but always obedient.

"Make me some tea and tell me the situation on the front lines."

While I spoke, her eyes never left my lips.

To be honest, mine never left hers either.

"Okay…" she muttered, before crawling over to the other side of the tea table, her curvy waist swinging from side to side under the tight shorts she wore.

With one hand, she pulled open a panel under the tea table. A small, folded cloth came out first. Then the tools: a clay kettle, a slender bamboo scoop, a lidded gaiwan, tongs, a tea caddy shaped like a peach, and finally, the small charcoal stove.

She worked in silence, kneeling while her fingers moved with a gentleness I couldn't understand.

I have witnessed this scene numerous times in the past century, but I never get tired of it.

The sound of flint striking steel broke the stillness. A spark caught the black charcoal, and soon a thin flame flickered to life beneath the iron grate.

She placed the clay kettle atop it, the firelight painting her cheeks in orange and gold.

I watched the steam rise with a small smile, but she didn't look at me—only at the water.

Then she opened the tea caddy and scooped the leaves with the bamboo ladle—into the warmed gaiwan they went.

The boiling water danced as she poured—not directly on the leaves, but in slow circles—letting them bloom naturally.

She placed the lid gently on the gaiwan and waited.

Even now, she didn't say a word, nor did she look at my face.

Then with tongs, she lifted the lid slightly, checked the color, and nodded to herself.

After that, she poured the tea into two shallow porcelain cups she set between us.

Only then did she finally look at me.

"Drink," she said softly.