I Die to Rise: Resurrection System-Chapter 63: Banishment!
Zaza’s shadow exploded outward like spilled ink, spreading across the shattered street in a pool of darkness.
From it emerged dozens of undead knights: skeletal figures clad in rusted armor, wielding swords and shields.
They rose with jerky, unnatural movements, their hollow eye sockets burning faintly with purple light, and charged the Reaper without hesitation.
However, the Reaper didn’t slow down. Its scythe moved in perfect arcs. Each swing harvested three, four, five knights at once.
Bodies crumbled, withering into dust before they hit the ground. The Reaper walked through the horde like it was strolling through fog, unbothered and unrushed.
Of course it didn’t feel like much, but Zaza had bought seconds... maybe a dozen of them. For everytime the Reaper swung, that was a moment spent not chasing after Kurt.
Behind her, Kurt knelt on the concrete, his bleeding hand pressed against the ground. Blood pooled beneath his palm, and he began to trace.
The diagrams burned in his mind... complex patterns that the Keeper had etched into his consciousness. And he had to be careful not to make any errors as he brought the image to life.
His finger moved fast, carving crimson lines into the pavement, and sweat dripped down his face. "Come on... come on..."
Zaza’s spun her materialized scythe in her grip, the chain rattling as it coiled around her arm. Her sclera turned black, pupils glowing bright purple, and she moved.
<Soul Harvest: Death Scythe>
She came from the side as a blur of motion, and swung the scythe in a wide arc aimed at the Reaper’s neck.
The blade sang through the air, whistling with lethal intent, only to be met with one finger raised by the Reaper.
The scythe stopped dead, the blade pressed against the tip of the Reaper’s index finger, and Zaza’s eyes widened only for a fraction of a second. Then she pushed harder, essence flooding the weapon, but it didn’t budge. Not even a millimeter.
Unmoved, the Reaper released its aura. An aura so intense, the air itself seemed to die. Color drained from the surrounding buildings, plants withered instantly, and an oppressive, suffocating pressure radiated outward in waves.
Zaza was thrown backward, her body tumbling across the street before she caught herself on one knee, breathing hard.
Lo and behold, the Reaper’s form began to change.
It grew taller—seven feet, then eight, then nine. Its pristine suit dissolved into swirling black smoke that clung to its body like animated shadow.
A hood materialized over its head, obscuring its face entirely, and thick chains emerged from the darkness, wrapping around both wrists like the shackles of a prisoner. The chains rattled with every movement, echoing through the dead silence.
Its scythe expanded, the blade growing longer, sharper, drinking in the light around it until it was a void given form.
The Reaper then raised the weapon high above Zaza, who was still on one knee, struggling to stand. Its voice was no longer smooth or professional. It was layered, echoing, as if a thousand voices spoke in perfect unison.
"You were warned."
The scythe descended.
"HERE GOES NOTHING!" Kurt screamed.
He slammed his bloodied palm against the completed diagram, and the blood ignited. Not with fire, but with light. Pure, blinding white light that erupted from the sigil in a column that pierced the sky.
The runes Kurt had drawn began to glow, spreading outward in a blinding white flash that flooded the street in a silent explosion.
The Reaper’s scythe stopped mid-swing, inches from Zaza’s head, its hooded face turned toward Kurt, and it realized what Kurt had done.
The light intensified, wrapping around the Reaper’s form like chains made of radiance. It struggled, pulling against the bindings, but the shackles around its wrists bonded itself to the radiant binding and reinforced the sigil’s hold.
The ground beneath it cracked, glowing with the same white light, and symbols began to spiral upward.
The Reaper’s voice echoed one last time, distorted and fading. "This... is temporary."
Then it was gone. The light collapsed inward, sucking the Reaper into nothingness, and silence fell over the street.
Soon after, there was a ding! in his head, a notification from the system:
[SYSTEM ALERT]
[Reaper Banishment Confirmed]
[Host has successfully banished Reaper]
[Duration: 48 hours]
Kurt collapsed onto his back, chest heaving, his hand still bleeding. "Bloody hell... that worked."
Zaza stood slowly, her transformation fading as her attire shifted back to normal. She adjusted her glasses, nudging them up her nose, and stared at the spot where the Reaper had been.
Kurt pushed himself to his feet, wincing, and walked over to her. He extended a hand. "You alright?"
Zaza looked at his hand for a moment, then took it. "No. But thank you for asking."
Kurt pulled her to her feet, grinning despite the exhaustion weighing on every muscle. "That banishment idea of yours? It fucking worked!" He picked her up without thinking, spinning her around in a celebratory hug.
Zaza’s expression remained blank, but her voice carried the faintest hint of confusion. "What idea?"
Kurt stopped mid-spin, still holding her. "Your idea? The sigil thing you mentioned?"
"Oh," Zaza said, tilting her head. "I forgot I said that."
Kurt laughed, a breathless sound escaping his lips. "Of course you did. Doesn’t matter—it worked!"
He set her down gently, still grinning, and then he heard it. A sharp, deliberate cough from behind.
"Ahem."
Kurt turned slowly, his grin fading slightly, and found Emma standing twenty feet away. Her arms were crossed with a sharp, frightening smile on her face. Her expression radiating danger.
Behind her stood Rook, Cassandra, and Lizzie, all of them staring at him with varying degrees of concern, confusion, and irritation.
Emma’s grey eyes narrowed. "Mind filling us in on what the hell just happened?"
Rook stepped forward, his voice calm but firm. "We saw the light from two blocks away. Felt it, too. What did you do, Kurt?"
Kurt rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly very aware that he was still standing close to Zaza, who was adjusting her glasses like nothing had happened. "Right. Where to start..."
***
A/N: If you’re enjoying this, you can show your support with a gift or ticket. It helps others find the book as well.
And a review or two would mean something to me! Thank you and peace!







