Morvathos was sitting in the throne room, staring at the octagonal Yin-Yang symbol etched into the floor. His breathing was uneven, his hands fidgeted, and his jaw was clenched tight.
Fury burned in his chest. If Abrosis stood before him again, he swore he would rip him apart with his bare hands.
He inhaled sharply and leaned back against the throne. No—he couldn't keep being angry. He needed to think of a solution.
Morvathos rubbed his face with both hands, forcing himself to calm down. He exhaled slowly. His mind steadied, but the rage bubbling inside him refused to fully fade.
'All right. Let's think positively about this situation,'
He told himself.
'I'm feeling more emotion than I'm supposed to. Maybe because I'm only one day old and my personality is still bound to human standards. The indifference of my race hasn't completely consumed me yet. And now that I'm angry, it all bursts out at once... I think.'
Morvathos guessed this was why. The Thanari were known for their indifference and impartiality. For him to feel emotions this strong was almost miraculous.
More memories of his mortal life returned to him—most of them, at least. But some remained missing. How he died, why he died, and fragments from his later years were still buried in haze.
'But anyway… let's think the situation through.'
Morvathos leaned forward, focusing. Right now, he could see three possible paths.
The first option was to wait until enough Karmic Coins accumulated to repair the Spring of Reincarnation. But with the current income, it was impossible.
Not just difficult—impossible. Each day, the corruption of the soul water spread further. Eventually, the income would drop so low that Hell would fall into karmic debt.
When that happened, the divine laws would stop maintaining the realm. And that would mean the end—of him, of Hell, and of Earth.
The second option was to visit the Underworld. That required 10,000 Karmic Coins. If he could wait until the treasury gathered that much, he could go there to hunt Netherbeasts.
Slaying them generated Karmic Coins, which was why the entry cost was so high.
The third option was to descend to Earth himself—manually harvesting sinned souls and sending them to the Pit of Karma and Punishment.
That would increase the flow of souls, and over time, generate more coins than were being spent.
Morvathos sat back, elbows on the throne's armrests, his head resting against one hand. The Authority Seal pulsed faintly, and a coin materialized in his palm.
He turned it over slowly, admiring it. The golden surface was carved with floral designs so intricate that he could stare at them for hours without boredom. The closer he looked, the more mysterious and mesmerizing the patterns became.
Another option he could think of is taking a loan from the Divine Laws through the Authority Seal. But he wanted to do that as a last resort. Because if he took loan, those loan sharks will constantly cut the due from his income even if he doesn't want to.
'Living thousands of years in poverty? Not happening. I already lived a poor life. Now that I'm a God, I want to live like one.'
Morvathos ruled out taking a loan for now and weighed the three options carefully. Finally, he decided—he would descend to Earth.
To open the way, only one Karmic Coin was required. Normally, even a god of death couldn't interfere in the mortal world, bound by the restrictions of divine laws.
But Morvathos suspected that Earth's fate itself had been fractured, tied to Hell's corruption and the leaking souls. That might give him leeway to act.
And beyond that—he needed to find the cause. Somewhere on Earth, a soul strong enough to corrupt the Spring of Reincarnation had appeared. As far as Morvathos knew, such a thing should have been impossible.
No mortal soul should have possessed that kind of power. Yet it had happened. If he didn't uncover the truth, the damage would only spread further.
And while doing so, he could harvest sinners directly, hastening the income.
With his decision made, Morvathos rose from the throne and strode through the palace garden toward the Gate of the Underworld.
The gate was stationed on a podium, reached by a ring of stone stairs that spiraled around it. The bronze frame had aged into a greenish patina, carved with exquisite depictions of mythical beasts locked in battle.
The figures looked so lifelike that they almost seemed to move when viewed from the corner of the eye.
Morvathos walked up to the gate and examined it closely. The portal itself was a thin barrier of golden-white light. To activate it, one had to toss in a Karmic Coin, speak a destination, and if the cost was sufficient, the path would open.
He took a deep breath. Excitement stirred within him, laced with worry. Excitement—because he, an ordinary mortal just a day ago, now stood as the God of Death, about to step between realms.
Worry—because leaving Hell was not without risk. Though connected to Earth, Hell existed in a separate spatial dimension. And between those realms roamed dimensional beasts, waiting to strike. If he was unlucky enough to encounter them…
'I'm not that unlucky right...?'
Morvathos shook the thought aside. He flicked the coin forward. It dissolved into the gate in a smear of silver light. The barrier pulsed once, then stabilized.
"Destination: Earth,"
Morvathos declared.
The golden-white gate pulsed again, then opened fully.
Without hesitation, Morvathos stepped forward—and vanished from Hell.