Norris took a deep breath, steeling himself for the journey ahead. The room was dimly lit by flickering candles placed at strategic points, casting eerie shadows on the walls. The scent of incense filled the air, mingling with the earthy aroma of herbs scattered on the ground. Symbols and intricate patterns were drawn on the floor with chalk, creating a complex web of ritual traces.
In the center of the room, a stone altar stood, adorned with various artifacts and talismans. The focal point of the ritual was a shimmering portal, its edges crackling with arcane energy. The portal swirled with a mixture of dark and ethereal light, creating a mesmerizing and foreboding sight.
"If all goes well, I should be back to the material plane by tomorrow…two days later max."
After his mental preparations, Norris inhaled deeply and stepped toward the portal without any more hesitation.
He knew the dangers that awaited him in the Death Realm, but the power and knowledge he sought were worth the risk.
An eerie-looking finger lay on the altar. A closer look would reveal that it was a pinky finger. Close friends of Norris—if he had any—would have identified it as his. It was neatly treated and prepared, serving as both a medium and a coordinate for his return to the material realm.
He began chanting an incantation, his voice steady and commanding. As he spoke the ancient words, the symbols on the floor began to glow, and the energy in the room intensified. The portal pulsed in response, its light growing brighter and more turbulent.
With the final words of the incantation, the portal opened fully, and Norris felt a powerful force pulling him toward it. As he stepped forward, a cold, otherworldly energy enveloped him. The portal closed behind him with a deafening crash, leaving only the sealed pinky finger in the material world.
Norris found himself in the dark, foreboding landscape of the Death Realm. He could feel his health rapidly deteriorating, but he knew this was just a physical manifestation. The Death Realm was rejecting him.
He looked at himself, feeling a wave of nausea and fever. It was a long-forgotten sensation. This didn't shake his calmness, though. He murmured, "A few hours at most, and I'll be able to adapt. But no need to be honest."
He cast a spell to allow the Death Realm's laws to affect his body, changing his form to that of an undead. This transformation allowed him to exist in the realm as a living entity legally permitted by its laws.
Slowly, dramatic changes began to happen. Changes that could make any scientist from earth bang their skulls against the wall in horror. But this was magic.
His blue skin and muscles were erased. Reality forbade such organs filled with vitality to exist….. the death realm laws.
All that was left was a skeleton in a robe, holding a sword. The robe seemed to fit the skeleton just as it would fit Norris. In the depth of the eye socket, a flame lit. A soul like flame.
The skeleton stood motionless.
"Now I'm an undead. Fantastic", the skeleton, still Norris spoke sarcastically.
**
With the undead as the main intelligent beings in the Death Realm and their hatred for the living, being unassimilated was a near-certain death sentence and a beacon of endless trouble. He thought to himself, "Ugh, I hate going to other realms. Without assimilation, you really might not be able to survive. I've chosen to assimilate my body. I'm no protagonist. I can't challenge the laws of the realm. Or am I a protagonist?
For now, this assimilation allows me to tap into the Death Realm's energies more effectively, which is a pro."
A little too calm, his current state wasn't right. He was an undead now, and his slow-growing indifference bothered him.
---
As he traversed the desolate landscape as a lich, Norris couldn't help but feel that the Death Realm embodied the very essence of mortality. The barren wasteland, shrouded in an eternal gloom, seemed to confirm every morbid expectation of what lay beyond the veil of life.
The Death Realm's twisted landscape stretched out before him like a canvas of decay. Skeletal trees reached towards the sky, their branches etched against the dull grey horizon. The air was heavy with the scent of damp earth and decay.
His mind began to wander, drawn back to the goal that had driven him to this forsaken place. Becoming a Noble of the Death Realm was the key to unlocking the secrets of this realm and harnessing its power. The benefits were too great to ignore: a deeper affinity for the Death Realm's energies and the chance to repair the wear and tear on his soul.
Norris's thoughts turned to the cost of his rapid advancement. Like a muscle that had been strained to the point of tearing, he had expanded his soul too fast for his own good. He could wait for it to heal naturally, but that would take a long time. Right now, Norris was unable to grow stronger; his potential had been exhausted. The Death Realm offered a chance to heal those wounds, to strengthen himself, and to become someone worthy of respect... or fear, perhaps.
In this world, being a noble meant connecting mystically to an area, which was known as one's domain. Nobles were employed by the realm to sort out its chaotic energy system and create relative order. The Death Realm, temporally farthest from the material world at this time, offered the perfect opportunity for Norris to focus on his growth. Five years in this realm would pass in the blink of an eye back home, a mere day in the material world. It was the perfect opportunity to become the master of his own destiny.
As Norris ventured deeper, he decided to use one of his core spells, of his own creation, to scan the area.
He used death energy as a ray, sending it out to gather information about his surroundings—his inspiration drawn from radar in his previous life. "Time to get the lay of the land," he thought to himself. He also prepared an amplification array to boost the death radar spell.
The death energy waves screamed through the realm like a beacon, announcing his presence to every malevolent entity within earshot.
"What the...?!" Norris's eyes widened in alarm as he felt the attention of the realm's inhabitants focusing on him. "No, damn it, no—" He trailed off, his mind racing with panic.
This spell, which had served him well in the Material Realm, was a grave mistake in the Undead Realm without adjustment.
Norris let out a frustrated sigh. "I've used this spell countless times before, but never in a realm like this." He mentally face-palmed. "And yet, I cast it without even checking its properties, without considering the potential consequences. I also had the gall to cast an amplification on it. The difference between theory and practice."
His self-reproach turned to alarm as he realized the gravity of his mistake. "Now is not the time to muse. I need to bolt."
His instincts kicked in. Norris turned and ran, dashing across the twisted landscape of the Death Realm.
In an unfamiliar realm, being pursued heightened Norris's paranoia. Everything seemed to be against him.
He could feel the cold, calculating gaze of his pursuers piercing through the darkness.