"Please... fulfill this supreme endeavor on my behalf... bring Death back to the world! Let all the wandering souls along this path find peace, let the order of life and death... be restored!"
After entrusting that faint spark carrying his unresolved obsession, the alchemist's soul, like smoke scattered by the wind, swayed gently once before completely dissipating in the stagnant air of the underworld.
It was precisely in this moment of spreading silence that not far away, specks of golden light began to gather, like upstream sparks, gradually outlining a familiar, resilient figure.
He was still muttering softly, his tone carrying the exhilaration of undiminished battle spirit: "That brat Phainon... should finally be convinced now... with that one move, I took out at least several hundred high-level Black Tide creatures. Let's see if he still dares question my purge efficiency..."
"Hmm? You..." The light fully coalesced, and Mydei turned his head, seemingly only now noticing the presence of Phaethon and the others. His soul-state was slightly more blurred than in life, but the spirit in his eyes still burned like molten gold.
"Lord... Mydei?" Castorice ventured tentatively, a faint trace of surprise on her cool features. She could sense that his current state was neither that of a living being nor an ordinary soul in the usual sense.
Phaethon, however, frowned deeply, having caught onto more crucial information:
"Mydei, has the pressure on the Castrum Kremnos front become this severe? To make you... die so frequently?" He paused, choosing that heavy word.
"Phaethon... the Black Tide... is endless." Mydei's soul replied, his sentences occasionally faltering, like a poor communication signal. "My death... is only temporary."
His light-gathered form seemed to straighten slightly, his tone carrying an unwavering conviction, still fragmented yet weighty as a mountain:
"I will find the way back... against all obstacles... return to the world of the living... continue my 'Guard'."
"Lord Mydei," Castorice took half a step forward, voicing the question that had long puzzled her. "I've always wanted to know... why does Death reject you so?"
In her perception through the authority she wielded, Mydei's existence was a paradox; the realm of the dead was desperately trying to expel him.
"It is I... who resists it." Mydei's soul crossed his arms. "The temptation to drift down the River of Souls... I will resist... must resist. To travel upstream, fight my way out of this damned underworld... that is... my destiny."
He did not utter the words 'Strife', but the will to fight permeated the air.
"Why is Mydei speaking so haltingly?" Cyrene leaned close to Phaethon, whispering her confusion, her eyes full of bewilderment.
Castorice's gaze, however, became one of understanding. She explained softly, "It seems he is using all his willpower to battle the lure of the underworld's whispers. Every moment, he is refusing to sink, refusing to truly 'die' in this land of rest. So... his battlefield has never been confined to the world of the living." Her tone carried a trace of respect.
Finally, Castorice looked at Mydei, her voice clear and firm as she extended an invitation: "Lord Mydei, will you travel with us? We are heading to the transmutation array atop the tower outside the city... to summon the long-hidden Thanatos (Titan of Death), to confront Death itself."
"Than... atos?" Mydei murmured the name symbolizing the ultimate end, his golden eyes suddenly erupting with an unprecedented light. "Challenge... Death?"
"Correct," Castorice assured him. "If we can unite and overcome it, once I obtain the Death Coreflame and become a new Demigod, reshaping the order of this place... you will no longer have to endure the whispers and temptations of the underworld every moment."
"Then... let's travel together!" Mydei's reply was crisp and decisive, his fighting spirit soaring. "Phaethon, Castorice, Cyrene. Let one who has brushed shoulders with death countless times... guide your way!"
"Castorice..." Cyrene, however, grabbed Castorice's sleeve, her lovely face etched with worry, finally voicing the words she had long suppressed. "Are you truly certain about this? That alchemist's soul said at the end... the array requires... requires you as a sacrifice..." Her voice trembled slightly, unable to imagine the consequences.
Castorice stopped and looked back at her companions. The confusion that once existed in her violet eyes had been replaced by a quiet resolve, as if she had seen a distant lighthouse after traversing a blizzard.
"I am not afraid," her voice was soft, yet exceptionally clear. "I have walked this far through confusion and doubt... there is absolutely no reason to turn back now."
Her gaze lightly swept over Phaethon, as if reminding him of something, before she looked ahead at the seemingly endless road leading to the tower.
"After all... compared to hesitation, it is better to set forth. Perhaps today, fate will show a moment of pity and cast down a shred of mercy."
...
The journey to the tower was more rugged and profound than imagined. The wind of the underworld seemed to have solidified into substance, oppressing the spirit of every traveler.
The surroundings were terrifyingly quiet, with only the faint crunching sound of footsteps on unknown debris and the distant, barely audible wails of souls.
"Mydei, you're accompanying us here... is the front line truly alright?" Phaethon finally voiced his concern, images of his brother Phainon fighting desperately on the battlefield surfacing in his mind.
"Do not worry..." Mydei's soul shimmered with a stable, confident golden light. Though his speech was still slightly fragmented from resisting the death-whispers, it carried undeniable certainty. "Just now... I lured a large number of elite Black Tide creations... onto the path of the 'Furiae Vanguard'... those brainless fools... ran right into the edge of 'Strife'... greatly alleviating... the frontal pressure."
There was even a trace of satisfaction at a successful stratagem in his words, as if death to him was merely a tactical detour.
...
Finally, they reached the tower's summit. A massive, ancient stone door stood before them. The aura emanating from it was ancient, as old as the world itself.
"Behind this door lies that alchemical array." Castorice took a deep breath, her outstretched hand trembling slightly, uncontrollably. This was not just fear of the unknown, but the palpitation of approaching destiny's endpoint.
It was then that Cyrene quietly moved close to Phaethon and swiftly pressed a cool, purple crystal into his palm.
"Castorice is about to find the meaning of her journey to the underworld this time. What about you, Phaethon? Have you understood anything?"