Cael’s eyes widened as his complexion rapidly turned pale.

Without hesitation, he grabbed one of the Great Mana Potions beside him and drank it in a single gulp.

He took one after another continuously, the "drainage" speed of his mana was faster than his recovery even with the great mana potions.

If the drainage reached a certain threshold of negativity, he would definitely die!

Only after the color slowly returned to his face and the violent backlash subsided did he finally let out a frustrated groan.

"Fuck..."

He wiped his mouth.

"That idiot declined my resurrection."

Adam immediately frowned.

"Explain."

This time, Cael wasn’t annoyed by Adam’s commanding tone. Instead, he seemed more frustrated by the situation itself.

"My ability isn’t some all-powerful miracle you know."

He pointed at himself.

"In order to fully resurrect someone, there are several conditions that need to be met."

Holding up one finger, he continued.

"First, I have to genuinely sympathize with the target. That’s how I locate their uniqueness within the Realm of Death."

A second finger rose.

"Second, my sanity takes damage every time I attempt a resurrection. That’s the price needed to bypass the taboo surrounding life."

Then a third finger.

"And finally..."

His expression became sour.

"The person being resurrected has to want to come back..."

Silence filled the crimson dome as Adam stared at him.

"Are you saying Kristoff doesn’t want to be alive?"

Cael nodded.

"Pretty much."

He clicked his tongue.

"Honestly, I expected this. That guy was always a stubborn airhead."

A look of irritation appeared on his face, then he glanced toward the remaining mana potions.

"We’re going to need a lot more of these..."

He let out another curse as he rubbed his temples.

It seemed that the side effects of resurrection towards his sanity was slowly gnawing at him.

"Shit... the mana overload alone is going to kill me if I keep forcing resurrection attempts without proper preparation."

Adam’s eyes glanced toward his stream interface as sveral notifications immediately appeared.

[TrickyRabbit has donated multiple D-Tier Gifts.]

[Golden Carrot] (x3) : A strangely radiant carrot infused with golden mana. Upon consumption, maximum mana capacity is temporarily tripled, mana recovery speed increases fivefold, and the harmful effects of mana overload are greatly suppressed.

Duration: 30 Minutes.

Another notification appeared.

[TrickyRabbit has donated a C-Tier Gift.]

[Lie of the Rabbit] : The deceitful rabbit told a lie to the world. "Your body cannot suffer from mana overload." For a brief period, the world will accept this falsehood as truth before eventually correcting itself.

[TrickyRabbit mischievously grins at the streamer.]

Adam couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow.

’What a timely fellow...’

Without delay, he sent a brief message of thanks toward the viewer before retrieving the items from the system inventory.

After taking out the items and explaining what they did to Cael, Adam saw a look of disbelief on Cael’s face.

It was as if he had never heard of such strange items before.

...

Kristoff walked down the endless hallway.

He did not know where it led, nor did he know how long he had been walking.

The floor was made of soft gray mist and the walls stretched up into nothing.

There was no sound except his own footsteps.

Then he saw the hand once more.

It appeared from nowhere, fingers spread across as though trying to grab hold of him tightly.

Take it... come back.

An unknown voice kept yelling in his head.

Kristoff kept walking.

The hand followed him.

It appeared again a few steps ahead.

Take it. Come back.

"No."

Kristoff said quietly.

He walked past the hand, daring not to look back.

The hand appeared again and again.

It was as though every time Kristoff took another step, the hand was there.

Take it. Please. Come back.

Kristoff shook his head.

"I am tired. Let me rest."

Take it.

No.

Take it.

No.

TAKE IT.

Kristoff clenched his jaw and walked faster.

The hand kept appearing while he kept refusing.

He did not know why, but something inside him did not want to go back.

Something inside him was tired of carrying burdens...

He walked until the hallway changed.

And then, in the distance, Kristoff saw a figure standing alone.

Someone stood ahead of him.

A man.

For a moment, his heart stopped.

He knew that face... though he had only seen it in old photographs, and though he had only heard stories about him.

Yet he knew... without a doubt... this was...

"...Dad?"

The man smiled. It was a warm smile.

The same smile Kristoff had imagined countless times.

Christopher, his father.

The Staff Sergeant everyone spoke so highly of.

The dependable soldier.

The brave man who protected others.

The pillar of their family.

But...

Something felt odd...

He wasn’t the way Kristoff imagined him.

He wasn’t broad-shouldered, he wasn’t imposing, and he wasn’t the heroic figure Kristoff had built in his head throughout the years.

Instead, he looked very thin.

His face was pale and his body looked weak.

There was a sense of fragility in his appearance...

As though life had drained away everything he once possessed.

The sight left Kristoff speechless.

"You look surprised."

His voice was gentle.

Kristoff nodded.

"You don’t look like the stories."

His father laughed softly.

"Stories have a habit of making people larger than they really are."

The two of them stood there quietly.

Neither knowing what to say and neither wanting to ruin the moment.

After a while, Kristoff finally spoke.

"I thought you’d tell me to stay..."

His father tilted his head.

"Stay?"

"Yeah."

Kristoff looked around the endless hallway.

"I figured this was where dead people go."

The smile on his father’s face slowly faded.

Then, to Kristoff’s surprise, he shook his head.

"No."

His answer was immediate.

"You need to go back."

Kristoff’s face scrunched up in confusion.

"What?"

"You heard me."

His father stepped closer.

"This place isn’t as wonderful as you think."

Kristoff stared at him.

"But I’m tired."

The words escaped before he could stop them.

Years of exhaustion, frustration, and endlessly carrying everything.

All of it poured into those two simple words.

"I’m tired."

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Then his father reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I know."

His voice was quiet and soft, so much quieter than Kristoff had expected.

He wondered how such a soft and fragile person because a pillar of his family.

"I know better than anyone."

Something inside Kristoff’s chest tightened.

"But there are still things for you to do."

His gaze remained steady.

"Your sister is still waiting."

Kristoff lowered his head.

"You still have people who need you."

The invisible hand reached toward him again.

This time, he noticed it clearly.

A hand stretched out from somewhere beyond the hallway.

It waited patiently this time, not daring to make demands.

His father glanced toward it.

Then back at him.

"Go."

Kristoff hesitated.

For the first time in a long time...

He didn’t want to carry anything anymore.

He just wanted to stop and rest.

He wanted someone else to take the burden...

But then he remembered his sister... and as much as he hated to admit it... he was also worried about his mother.

Slowly, he raised his hand.

The invisible hand immediately reached toward his as well.

His father smiled, one that brought one a sense of being "proud".

The kind Kristoff had always wished to see.

As their hands touched, the endless hallway began to crack apart.

Light poured through every fracture as the world started pulling him away.

His father’s figure gradually faded.

Yet his final words remained.

"Sorry you have to live like I had, Toff."

The light swallowed everything.

And as consciousness slowly returned to him, a forgotten realization surfaced within his heart.

Ah...

That’s right.

I am a "bearer"...