Chapter 122: The Black Reaper

"Hahaha, hahahaha..."

A man climbed painfully from the ground, laughing maniacally—it was Rakutu the executioner.

"You see it now! The deity our tribe has worshipped for over 300 years has descended! All of you will die. This is a great god who masters the power of death. Under its influence, everyone in this tribe who has died will turn into phantoms to seek revenge on you! And I, I shall become the agent of this god, ruling over this world!"

"Urgh..."

Rakutu's eyes suddenly bulged, and a spurt of blood mixed with visceral fragments erupted from his mouth.

He looked down at his chest, which had been crushed inward by Brenda's punch, and saw a strange, long object protruding from it—a translucent tentacle.

The "deity" the black man had been referring to was, in essence, an evil spirit. Formed from a skull and hundreds of gathered phantoms, it had manifested a silhouette, and one of its cursed tentacles had pierced right through the man's body.

"Wh... why?"

Rakutu's face was filled with disbelief.

"Because you talk too much!"

An evil spirit, just released from centuries of imprisonment, hadn't even had a chance to speak before a little brat jumped out and stole its thunder—how could it tolerate that? The skull, encased in spiritual energy, provided an answer that left Rakutu staring in deathly shock.

The black executioner slumped to the ground. This time, his death was final.

"After more than 300 years, I am finally standing upon the earth once more. By gathering the cursed power of voodoo dolls, the deathly power of the revenants, the evil power of an ancient spirit, and the blood of an ancient wizard's descendant to break the seal, I am finally truly free!"

The phantom body rapidly shrank, and black mist condensed on its surface to form a dark robe.

Matter manifested from energy! Once the evil spirit had shrunk into a humanoid form two meters tall, it hovered above the ground. The dark cloak shrouded its body, and beneath the hood was a skull face with two pale flames burning in the eye sockets, with gray mist swirling around it.

With just a single glance at this entity, the three surviving women—Jessica, Brenda, and Catherine—felt a deep, profound fear of death rising from the depths of their souls.

Yan Luo, whose "Heartless Doll" was currently occupied by the masks of Li Bai and the Dark Heir, was unable to absorb emotions. He looked at the evil spirit hovering in mid-air, which radiated the aura of a super-boss. As a heartless being, he felt no panic or fear, but rather remarked thoughtfully, "You look quite a lot like the legendary Grim Reaper."

"The Grim Reaper? A name I haven't heard in a long time."

The robed evil spirit let out a sigh. "Over 600 years ago, and for the 300 years that followed, I went by a name: The Black Death."

Since the boss hadn't attacked immediately, Yan Luo saw no reason to strike first. Extracting information was never a bad idea, so he followed up with a questioning tone: "The Black Death? That name makes me think of the bubonic plague."

"A keen thought!" The hovering spirit seemed pleased. "Indeed, the Black Death that struck Europe in 1348 was triggered by me... From that moment on, for three centuries, I, the sower of the plague, was known as the Black Death."

The three European women gasped. As Europeans, they were, of course, familiar with the Black Death.

It was the most terrifying and horrific plague in European history! A deadly virus flooded the world, causing those afflicted with black spots on their skin to fall silently. Fields were abandoned, villages were left deserted, and it even triggered a great famine.

In that era, Europe lost one-third of its population to the Black Death! That was 25 million people!

How could an evil spirit worshipped by a remote African tribe be connected to the greatest catastrophe in European history?

The Black Death, seemingly eager to share its history now that it was free, answered everyone's doubts. It spoke with a voice heavy with the weight of ages: "I was originally an evil spirit who mastered viruses and plagues. The Black Death I unleashed ravaged all of Europe. As more and more people died, I gradually gained the power of death, even coming close to becoming a true god!"

"The God of Plague and Death!"

"More than 300 years ago, I came from Europe to Africa, hoping to harvest more power of death on this continent to ascend to godhood. Instead, I encountered some powerful wizards."

"The evil spirit this tribe worshipped back then was no low-level entity; it was the Ouroboros! The name of this tribe 300 years ago was the Ouroboros Tribe."

"I, the Black Death, began the battle against the Ouroboros. Although I ultimately gained the upper hand and completely destroyed that spirit, I consumed a great deal of power in the fight and was ambushed by several great wizards, who sealed me within the earth of this tribe."

The Black Death sighed in a remarkably human way. It was silent for a few seconds, as if reminiscing, before continuing:

"After that, the tribal wizards coveted my power. They stripped away my ability to command viruses and plagues, transforming it into a plant called the 'Stairway of the Sun.' The Ouroboros tribe used the virus extracted from the plant to create revenants."

"But that nearly brought about the destruction of the Ouroboros tribe... The power of the virus is not easily controlled. Having lost several great wizards and the vast majority of their warriors, a portion of the tribe fled, taking the Stairway of the Sun deep into the swamps of the African continent, never to be seen again. Those who remained forgot their past glory, even going so far as to believe that their tribe's once-mighty totem, the Ouroboros, was merely a weak evil spirit. How laughable."

Yan Luo seized the point. "Mr. Black Death, does that mean you have lost your power over viruses and plagues?"

"Yes!" The evil spirit did not hide it from Yan Luo. "Not only that, but over the last 300 years, with the rise of technology—especially the two World Wars—the spiritual energy between heaven and earth has vanished. Almost all mystical power has become unsustainable."

"On the African continent, where I was sealed, this primitive tribe treated me as a source, like a wellspring providing power. Whether it was the remnants of the tribal wizards casting spells or the curses used by the Hoffmann family far away in Europe—the root of all these mystical powers was me."

"It was as if people were constantly drawing blood from me... and without the replenishment of spiritual energy from heaven and earth, I am now extremely weak. Even with the infusion of the 300 people who just died, I possess less than one ten-thousandth of my power in my prime."

"Are you exposing your own weaknesses?" Yan Luo asked.

"Yes. But rest assured, even with less than one ten-thousandth of my power, killing you little ones is far too easy. After all, at my peak, my power was near that of a god!"

Yan Luo could sense the confidence radiating from the boss. After all, this was a being that had once attempted to ascend to godhood. However, curiosity still lingered in his mind: "Since mystical power is disappearing in this world, why do you still exist?"

The Black Death sighed. "For that, I must thank the ancient wizards of the tribe. They sealed me not only to bind and plunder my power but also because they allowed me to reside in a place where they had placed seals—and one that sat upon a ley line with a sliver of deathly power."

"The two World Wars, the rise of technology, and the explosion of nuclear bombs caused all other evil spirits to perish in the mutation of the world. But I survived and have lived until now."

"I thought I would slowly fade away in the seal as my power drained. After all, breaking the seal required the power left behind by the ancient Ouroboros, the cursed power that had been taken by the Hoffmann family, and the power belonging to the revenants. I never expected all three to be gathered here, along with a descendant of an ancient wizard to write the incantation for breaking the seal in blood."

"So, I came out."

"I have satisfied your curiosity. Now, I shall grant you death—your souls will be plundered to become my power. Then, I will once again make the name 'Black Death' resound throughout Europe and the entire world!"

"Too naive, you fossil! In this modern age, with lasers, railguns, particle plasma weapons, and nuclear bombs... there are countless ways to finish you off. Did you think hundreds of years of technological progress were just for show? But since you want to kill me, I have no choice but to resist."

"You are an antique that shouldn't exist in the modern age; this is no longer your era. I'll reluctantly do the world a favor and send you off! Let this teach you that once you've lost most of your power, you shouldn't be so arrogant. There is a saying in the East: a phoenix that has lost its feathers is worse off than a chicken."

"Do you know? You will definitely fail in this battle, because... as a boss..."

"You talk too much!"

A mask appeared in Yan Luo's hand.

The Black Death, hovering in mid-air, twitched slightly; it sensed immense power radiating from that mask.

Yan Luo pressed the mask firmly against his face.

"Let me show you the mystical power of the East."

"Immortal!"