Even Death Grew Tired of Killing Me-Chapter 74 - 69

[Third POV – General]

It had been two days since the mountain split open near the dark forest beyond Solcarth.

What remained of the cavern was now a massive crater carved into the land between jagged ridges and dense, monster-infested woodland. Patrol units were dispatched almost immediately. Soldiers combed the perimeter in heavy formations, banners lowered, armor dulled with caution. None of them truly understood what had happened. They only knew the earth had trembled, the sky had cracked with sound, and something powerful had torn through the terrain.

Inside the palace, the situation was worse.

The Divine Containment Prefect was dead.

Not merely dead. Destroyed in a way that unsettled even seasoned officials. His chamber had become a site of whispered horror and sealed reports. Servants refused to walk that wing alone. Advisors spoke in hushed tones. The heirs began their own investigations without coordination.

Prince Aurelion Solcarth worked with military commanders, questioning patrol leaders and sealing internal records. Princess Lysanndra Solcarth requested access to magical archives and divine containment logs. The youngest prince remained visibly restrained by order, though he had sent trusted personnel to gather independent information.

The king, who had retreated into ceremonial silence for months, returned to active authority.

Royal decrees were issued. Military presence within Solcarth increased. Curfews tightened. Access to restricted archives was suspended. A total military control over the chaos was declared in measured but unmistakable terms.

The palace did not sleep.

—

Elsewhere, far from the capital.

The corridor was quiet.

Theron leaned casually against the wall just outside Kyrene’s room. His arms were folded, eyes closed, posture relaxed but not careless. He looked like a young boy waiting outside a friend’s door, though there was nothing ordinary about the stillness surrounding him.

Footsteps approached.

Madison walked down the hallway without hurry. Soft light from the windows caught in the faint dark-blue tint of her hair. She wore a simple dress today, pale and understated, though it did nothing to dull her presence.

She stopped beside him.

"How’s he?" she asked gently.

Theron opened his eyes.

"Still recovering, I guess," he replied, tone neutral but attentive.

Madison nodded once.

"Theo needs to improve soon," she said thoughtfully. "Otherwise Kyrene will always be forced to do this every time something difficult appears."

Theron exhaled faintly.

"Yeah," he admitted. "I’m not really sure how they’ll do that though."

Madison lifted a hand absently and touched a strand of her hair, eyes drifting briefly down the hallway as if measuring something invisible.

"Theo’s stat doubled after defeating the lich," she remarked quietly. "That creature was built from mortal souls. A dense concentration."

Theron looked at her properly this time.

"So this Caedryn person was really playing god."

Madison’s expression shifted slightly. Not anger. Not judgment. Just observation.

"Mortals can be extremely good and extremely bad at the same time," she answered evenly. "But I don’t really judge. I don’t weigh morality."

Theron’s lips curved faintly.

"Me too," he replied. "I’m more into the other side anyway."

Madison gave him a brief sideways glance.

"That much is obvious."

He did not deny it.

A quiet moment passed between them.

"Theo will need at least basic weapon training," Madison continued, tone calm but decisive. "His stats won’t be of much help if he can’t fight properly. Raw numbers don’t replace technique."

Theron shifted his weight off the wall slightly.

"Who’s teaching him?" he asked.

"I asked Felix to give him the basics before they leave," she replied.

Theron nodded slowly.

"That’s reasonable, I guess."

He tilted his head toward the door.

"How’s Theo, by the way?"

Madison’s gaze softened just a fraction.

"He’s okay," she said. "Tired as given, depleted. He burned more than he understands."

Theron’s eyes flickered briefly with interest but he did not press further.

"And the little girl?" he asked.

"Astrae’s under Mireya’s watch," Madison answered. "She just needs time to recover overall. Her pride took as much damage as her body."

Theron gave a faint hum in acknowledgment.

He looked down the quiet hallway again.

"Aren’t we moving too slow?" he asked after a moment.

Madison shook her head lightly.

"Not really," she replied. "Just... on time."

Her tone carried certainty, not arrogance.

Theron studied her for a second, then nodded once.

Outside the windows, wind stirred through distant trees.

Inside the quiet manor corridor, the air remained steady.

The storm that had shaken Solcarth was far from over.

But for now, recovery came before the next move.

~~~

Theo woke on the fourth day.

It was late afternoon. The light filtering through the curtains was soft and amber, the kind that blurred edges and made everything feel slower than it was. For a moment he didn’t remember where he was. His body felt heavy, not in the way of injury, but like something had drained him and left only the structure behind.

His muscles ached when he shifted. Not sharp pain. Just deep soreness, as if he had trained past his limits for days without rest. His head felt light and slightly distant, like he was still surfacing from deep water.

He blinked and focused on the ceiling.

The room was clean and spacious. The furniture was polished wood carved with subtle Aetherian patterns, the bed wide and neatly made except for the side he occupied. A modest wardrobe stood against the wall. The curtains were thick but elegant. Everything was arranged with quiet care.

It wasn’t a palace suite.

But it was far from crude.

Theo shifted again and froze.

He was completely naked beneath the blanket.

He stared at the ceiling for a full second longer.

He did not want to think about who had cleaned him. Who had stripped him. Who had put him to bed. That line of thought could remain buried permanently.

He cleared his throat lightly and pushed himself upright.

At the corner of the bed lay a folded night robe. Simple. Soft. He slipped it on without hesitation, tying it securely around his waist before standing. His legs felt steady enough, though a faint weakness lingered beneath the surface.

He walked slowly across the room, testing his balance. The wooden floor was cool beneath his feet.

He barely glanced at the window as he moved. The sky outside was turning from gold to blue-gray, shadows stretching long across the courtyard. He wasn’t sure where exactly this place was, but it felt quiet.

Safe.

He found the ensuite bathroom tucked behind a side door.

The space was spotless. A basin carved from pale stone. A large mirror framed in dark wood. Towels neatly folded. A set of comfortable clothes laid out on a bench. A toothbrush. Soap. Everything he would need.

Aetherfall had its own cleansing rituals, mana-assisted purifications and rune-based hygiene systems. But Theo had never fully adjusted to those methods. He preferred what he knew.

Water. Soap. Simplicity.

He stepped in front of the mirror and paused.

For a moment, he thought the reflection wasn’t his.

He had changed before. Every battle, every stat shift, every survival had shaped him subtly. But this time the difference was obvious.

His shoulders were broader. His waist tapered cleanly. His stomach was flat and firm, muscle defined without bulk. When he flexed unconsciously, the movement was smooth and controlled.

He looked like someone who had trained with a blade for years.

Not someone who had fumbled through fights barely holding on.

Theo frowned slightly at his reflection.

He raised a hand and pressed it lightly against his own chest, feeling the solidness there. His body felt... aligned. Efficient.

He splashed water onto his face and pushed his damp hair back.

It probably had something to do with defeating the lich. With the souls compressed inside that thing. With the system adjusting after such a battle.

He didn’t want to check his status window yet.

Not now.

He cleaned himself thoroughly, brushing his teeth, washing away the lingering scent of blood and dust. He dressed in the clothes prepared for him, simple and fitted well to his altered frame.

When he stepped out of the bathroom and into the hallway, evening had settled fully.

The corridor was dimly lit. Shadows stretched long across the floor. The air carried a stillness that felt almost comforting, like the quiet of a house after everyone had retired for the day.

Theo walked slowly, fingers brushing the wall once to steady himself.

His body still felt slightly distant, like it belonged to him but had gone through something he hadn’t fully processed yet.

As he passed one of the rooms, he noticed the door was slightly open.

Soft light spilled into the corridor.

It was Madison’s receiving room. Her office space.

He hadn’t meant to stop, but voices reached him.

Madison’s voice was calm, as usual.

Another voice cut over hers, louder and sharp with anger.

Theo paused just outside the door.

Inside, a tall man stood opposite Madison’s desk. He looked older than Theo by several years, broad-shouldered, dressed in merchant-quality attire. His face was flushed with fury.

"You think we don’t see it?" the man barked. "You whore yourself to the royals and call it strategy. You manipulate the Solcarth market and pretend it’s business."

Madison stood behind her desk, posture straight. Her expression remained composed, almost detached.

"You are sadly mistaken," she replied evenly.

The man slammed his palm onto the desk, scattering documents across the floor.

"Don’t lie to me!"

He moved around the desk in two strides, looming over her.

Theo felt something inside him shift.

White.

A pure, blinding surge that burned clean and cold at the same time.

The man shoved Madison back, trapping her between his body and the edge of the table. He towered over her smaller frame, his shadow swallowing her entirely.

"You think you can control Solcarth?" he hissed. "You think spreading your legs for nobles gives you power?"

Theo’s breath stopped.

The man grabbed Madison by the collar and yanked harshly.

Fabric tore.

The sound was sharp and ugly.

Her upper chest was exposed where the cloth had ripped. Her skin pale against the darkened room.

Madison did not scream.

She did not struggle.

She only looked at him.

Theo did not remember moving.

He did not remember stepping into the room.

One moment he was in the hallway.

The next, he was in front of her.

The man left the ground.

There was no wind-up punch. No shouted warning. No visible strike.

The man’s body flew across the room as if struck by a siege weapon.

He hit the far wall with a sickening crack and collapsed onto the floor in a twisted heap. Blood sprayed across polished wood. Something shattered inside him. The sound was wet and wrong.

The room fell silent.

Theo stood between Madison and the fallen man, chest rising and falling steadily.

He hadn’t even raised his voice.

He didn’t look at the man.

He only looked at Madison.

His jaw was tight. His hands trembled slightly, not from weakness but from contained force.

The man groaned faintly on the floor, struggling to move. Blood pooled beneath him.

Theo turned slowly.

He walked toward him.

Each step was measured.

The man tried to push himself up, eyes wide with fear now replacing fury.

"W–wait..."

Theo crouched slightly, gaze cold and distant.

He didn’t feel rage anymore.

He felt clarity.

The kind that comes when something crosses a line too clearly to ignore.

"You will apologize," Theo murmured quietly.

Not loud.

Not dramatic.

The man choked on blood.

Theo’s hand twitched once.

The wooden floor beneath the man’s body cracked slightly from the pressure alone.

"You will apologize," Theo repeated, voice even.

Behind him, Madison finally moved.

She stepped forward, placing a light hand against Theo’s arm.

"Enough, I’m fine..." she said softly.

Her tone was calm, but firm.

Theo froze.

He looked at her over his shoulder.

Her collar was torn. Her skin exposed. But her expression held no fear.

Only thought.

Theo’s breathing slowed.

He stepped back.

The man collapsed fully unconscious, blood smearing across the polished floor like a broken insect crushed underfoot.

Theo stood still for a long second.

He hadn’t checked his system.

He hadn’t consciously activated anything.

He hadn’t even thought.

And yet he had moved faster than he ever had before.

Stronger.

Cleaner.

His fingers curled slightly at his sides.

He looked down at them.

Then back at Madison.

"Are you hurt?" he asked quietly, softly.

His voice was steady again.

But his eyes still burned faintly white.