MTLNOVEL Chapter 45: Puppet
The translucent silver screen glowed with words written on it, right in front of Sezel's face. It had appeared the instant his fingers brushed against the cold, dead chitin of the Flesh Reaper, a ghostly barrier between him and his prize. Sezel stared, his mind struggling to process the interruption. The words on the screen were stark, simple, and utterly incomprehensible.
"What is this?" he breathed, the words barely a whisper. His eyes scanned the glowing text, an unfamiliar warning.
[Do you wish to convert the target into one of your 'Puppets']
"What puppets?" he asked aloud, bewildered. The little girl stared at him with narrow eyes, clearly curious and confused, just like Sezel.
A jolt, sharp as lightning, shot through Sezel's mind. Something clicked into place, a puzzle piece sliding into a gap he hadn't even known was there. He immediately summoned his card and thought, "Show," in a haste.
The silver window unfolded before him just as usual. His gaze snapped to the section detailing his Fable. With a trembling finger, he touched the arrow, and a new cascade of information unfurled. And then he saw it.
[Fable – Master of Death]
[Tier – 1 – Rising]
[Evolution Points – 80/10,000] (5 from each Fanged Serpent, 10 from each Elder Fanged Serpent, 30 from Flesh Reaper)
[Soul Shards – 100/100]
The Soul Shards—he had accumulated a total of 100 of them, enough to fill the gauge—and now he realized that the window that popped up earlier was the result of this. So what will happen after that? his mind reeled. The possibilities were both thrilling and terrifying.
Another realization hit. His gaze dropped lower to the description of his Fable's ability, the words that had haunted him since he first saw them. But now, they carried a new, more sinister weight.
[Ability - You are the being who defied death. Death is your forte. Your audacity has swayed the God of Death; you have been recruited as the Master of Death. You have the authority to order the dead and use their powers.]
He read through it carefully. The authority to order the dead. Before, the words had been an abstract promise of power. Now, linked with the prompt about 'puppets', they became terrifyingly literal.
Sezel's pulse fastened. And then he saw it. The thing that made his blood run cold, that turned the air in his lungs to ice. Below the description of his mission, a new line had appeared—a second mandate, intertwined with the first, but written in a language of pure despair.
As he skimmed the words, his expression darkened. This... How is this possible? What the hell is this? These questions slammed in his head like boulders.
[Mission - You were helped by the God of Death. Now you live as his retainer. Find the God of Death and pay off the debt by serving him.]
[Curse - The Crown of Hollow Memories]
{Every Soul leaves a fragment of its own behind. You must bear what they left.}
Note - Complete the Mission to lift the Curse from your Soul]
"Curse?" Sezel spoke the word, but it was just a muffled exhalation, a ghost of a sound. What is this? I have seen it for the first time.
His mind reeled into chaotic questions. What is this curse? What does it mean by "always Wander"? The questions had pooled themselves once again. Some solved, some threatened again. The explanation about the curse was so cryptic that he couldn't make heads of it, what was it even saying? bear what they left?
The girl stood silently, watching him with an unsettling stillness as he wrestled with the invisible demons of his fate. She saw him talking to the air, his face a mask of shifting horror and confusion, but she did not speak.
Finally, Sezel let out a long, ragged sigh, a sound thick with frustration and despair. "Ahhh, this is a mess," he said, his voice heavy.
The girl tilted her head. "What is a mess, mister?"
His gaze shifted to her, and for a moment, the crushing weight of his curse was gone. He managed a soft, tired smile. "Nothing much," he lied. "Just… don't be afraid of what I do next."
She hesitated, her icy blue eyes searching his, then gave a small, trusting nod. "Okay, mister."
With that, Sezel went ahead. Sezel turned back to the corpse of the Flesh Reaper. He took a deep breath, steeling himself, and placed his hand on its cold, chitinous chest. The translucent screen reappeared, the same question hanging in the air like a final judgment.
[Do you wish to convert the target into one of your 'Puppets'?]
Sezel swallowed hard, his throat dry. He had no idea what would happen, what price this new power would demand. But in this hell, standing still was the same as dying. He closed his eyes and thought, with all the conviction he could muster, Yes.
And just the following moment, everything went silent. The sound of wind could be heard in the large hall. Sezel backed away, pulling the girl behind him, his hand a comforting weight on her small shoulder.
Something stirred within the dead Flesh Reaper. A black mist, thick and oily, began to seep from its wounds, coiling around its broken form, and soon it engulfed it whole. Within the darkness, the beast's body began to dissolve. It didn't rot or decay; it was unmade, its physical form breaking down into a swirling vortex of pulsing, violet energy. The entire two-meter frame of the monster was rendered into this ethereal mist, and from its center, a small, dense ball of pure black mass floated up.
The purple energy rippled and danced around the black core, forming orbits like planets around a dying star. Slowly, a new shape began to form. First, the long, bent legs of the monster took shape, then its torso, its insectile head, and finally, the two terrible scythes, gleaming with a deadly purple light. The entire form of the Flesh Reaper was reborn from the misty energy, a perfect, spectral replica of the creature he had just slain.
Sezel watched, his breath caught in his throat, his eyes wide with a mixture of awe and terror. The newly formed beast tilted its head towards Sezel. Then, with a grace that was both horrifying and sublime, it prostrated itself, its long, two-meter form bent low in a gesture of absolute reverence, as if it was a servant in front of its Master.
A chaotic storm of excitement and dread coiled in Sezel's heart. Before he could fully grasp the meaning of what he had done, another menu popped into existence before him, its stark, glowing letters promising even deeper, more dangerous secrets yet to be revealed.