When I started seeing again, I saw myself in the middle of something… fucking my wife!?
This time I was sure—absolutely sure—something was wrong. Seriously wrong.
First, I saw myself back in time, when I was just a baby. Now I'm seeing myself here, in my own home, moments before my brother came to kill me and my wife. This is just too much. What the hell is happening!?
Then I heard it—chime!—the sound of the bell downstairs.
A wave of dread washed over me. The same bell from my last life. The same sound before everything fell apart. And just like before, none of my workers were around. Not a single soul. They just... disappeared. No explanations, nothing.
I started questioning everything. What's wrong with this timeline? What's happening to me?
My wife went to check what was going on downstairs, while I stood frozen, trying to understand how to explain everything I was feeling—except I couldn't. Not because I didn't want to, but because I didn't even know where to begin.
Then it happened. Odin was let into the house—my own house—alongside the others... the Soulers. The fucking Fourteen Miscreants. One of the strongest forces in the empire. Ruthless. Wild. Their fighting style earned them their name.
Before I could even act, before I could stop it—my wife was killed.
She was killed right in front of me. By my own brother.
My world froze.
If I had known this would happen… If I had known…
Anger unlike anything I had ever felt before welled up inside me.
"No! No! NO!!! It shouldn't have happened this way!" I screamed in my mind, tears of fury burning in my soul. "This isn't how it's supposed to go! Even with all my memories, even with my past life's knowledge—how can I be this foolish!?"
Rage took over.
I didn't care anymore. I didn't care about my life or consequences.
All I wanted… was to kill Odin.
Even if it cost me everything.
Harnessing the power of my beast souls, I exploded forward with frightening speed. I slammed my fist into Odin's chest with the full force of my rank.
BOOM!
He was sent flying, smashing through the wall like a cannonball. His body crashed through layer after layer of solid material. The walls were thick—reinforced with mana—but Odin's body tore through it like wet paper. That's how powerful we've become in this world.
But that bastard… he stood back up.
And he laughed. That psycho actually laughed.
His laughter was maddening—loud, ugly, hysterical.
My blood boiled.
I ignored everything else and charged at him again. The Fourteen Miscreants? I didn't care.
"Tsk..." Odin clicked his tongue, as if bored, like this was nothing.
And then… the Soulers moved.
Their fingers lit up. I knew what was coming.
They began condensing light—raw destructive energy—at their fingertips.
The same technique they used to kill my wife.
One by one, they raised their hands and aimed their glowing fingers at me.
Swish!
They fired.
I couldn't dodge.
BOOM!
"Aaaargh!!!" I screamed. The pain was unbearable. It tore through every fiber of my being.
But worse than the pain was the betrayal—the fact that the one who did this to me… was my own brother. Not by blood, but that didn't make it hurt any less.
Then everything went dark.
'What the...?'
I was still conscious. I could feel pain—unimaginable pain—but I had no body. My senses were severed. I was... nothing. But I was still me.
And then my thoughts drifted back.
Back to Scarlett Fox.
That was when everything started falling apart. I was sure I died in her hands, but I never saw it happen. It made sense though—she's a Soul-type Souler. Soul attacks are intangible, unseen. Nothing physical. Something I couldn't understand at the time.
It all started making sense.
'Wait… what if it's not death? What if it's illusion? What if she trapped me inside an illusion this entire time using her beast soul?'
The thought hit me hard.
'What if everything—my regression, my wife's death, Odin—was a fucking illusion?'
Yes. Yes, it made sense!
That's it. She's using her beast soul, an illusion-type beast soul, to mess with me. To twist my emotions, my mind. To break me.
And just as I reached that conclusion…
CRACK!
The darkness shattered like glass, scattering into tiny fragments around me. I gasped.
'I was right! It was all an illusion! I didn't die! My wife didn't die! She's still with that unknown God!'
The realization flooded me with relief.
Then I felt it—my body. I could feel again.
'I'm alive!' I almost screamed from joy.
If I'm alive… then I still have a chance.
A chance to fight.
A chance for revenge.
Just then, dizziness hit me like a hammer. My eyelids grew heavy.
I opened my eyes slowly, forcing myself to remain awake.
And what I saw?
My hands—cuffed. I was bound. Sitting right before the Seven Top Bounty Hunters.
'What the hell!!!?'
I screamed in my mind. This was bad. Real bad.
Of course they captured me. It made sense—they must've beaten me while I was trapped in the illusion.
"Fuck you! Motherfuckers!!!" I roared, yanking at the cuffs with all my strength—only to realize…
My soul energy was gone.
'Fuck! Fuck!! Fuck!!!' I cursed wildly in my mind, struggling against the cuffs, refusing to give up.
---
[Back to when! Deus grants power to Lancelot and sends him to fight the Bounty Hunters]
Deus, the God of Souls, stood still as Lancelot walked out of the dimly lit chamber.
The moment the door shut, Deus lifted his gaze—his eyes cutting through the ceiling like it didn't exist. He wasn't just looking up. He was seeing something.
Something no mortal could see.
His cold voice echoed. "If you're done watching, you can come out now."
He had sensed it earlier. A low-ranking God was spying on him.
'Zeus… So, you've finally realized I'm still alive. You sensed my divine aura, didn't you?' he thought to himself. 'You always were nosy. But you underestimate me, fool. I am the Sovereign of Souls. Dying isn't even a possibility… not for someone like me.'
He clenched his tiny baby fists. This body was weak—frail. A shell. He needed time to grow it. To strengthen it. Before Zeus made his move.
A laugh echoed around the room.
"Hahaha! As expected of the Legendary God of Souls!"
An old man floated in—his white beard and robe glowing faintly, as if his body was made of divine mist. He looked like one of those ancient cultivators from myths. Wise. Powerful. Untouchable.
But Deus wasn't fooled.
The laughter? A mask.
This man wasn't here to chat. He came with a message… from Zeus.
"What did he say?" Deus asked, voice flat and emotionless, his baby face unreadable.
But the old god ignored him.
He kept talking.
"The gods and angels admire you. But you made a mistake… You made Zeus your enemy. Tell me—how does it feel to be weak!?"
His voice was taunting. Provoking.
"You're weakened. Your strength? A mere shadow of what it once was. Millions of times lower."
Deus's fingers twitched. He didn't know this god's name. Didn't know his specialty.
But he was very close to losing patience. He let the old man rant—for now. But one wrong move… and this fool would become nothing more than a memory.
Because Deus never forgets. And he never forgives.