I Died and Became a Noble's Heir

Chapter 549: History of Sarin Part I

The abrupt subject change made Jack’s assessment pause, confusion flickering across his features before his mind processed the implication.

Ren was offering information in exchange for a trade rather than a simple answer.

Knowledge about Elemental Necrosis treatment in exchange for a decision about the Mythical Spirit who’d abandoned his contractor.

"Where is the spirit?" Jack asked, his tone making clear he was willing to engage with the implied negotiation.

"He flew off to the north district," Ren replied, gesturing vaguely toward the throne room’s northern wall. "Past all the demon habitats, into territory where the tower’s corruption runs deepest. Probably hiding, trying to figure out how to survive without a contractor after three hundred years of depending on Warren’s existence to anchor him to this plane."

Jack’s mind processed the information with calculating focus.

Glacius represented significant power.

Mythical grade spirit capable of prolonging life.

But pursuing a panicked spirit through hostile territory with one arm rendered useless seemed tactically inadvisable given his current condition.

"Leave him for now," Jack stated, his decision made through a combination of tactical assessment and recognition that immediate pursuit would accomplish nothing.

"He’s not going anywhere if he’s trapped in the tower anyway. Deal with him later when I’m not operating with a catastrophic handicap."

Ren’s expression shifted, his mocking demeanor giving way to a teacher evaluating a student who’d demonstrated unexpected wisdom.

"Do you know why Warren lived for so long?" Ren posed a question; his tone hinted that the answer held considerable importance beyond mere inquiry.

Jack’s mind processed the question, drawing on everything he knew about Warren’s capabilities and survival. Three hundred years of existence, maintaining a position on the Council, surviving countless battles that should have ended someone operating at his level.

The common factor across all of it was obvious once the question was asked directly.

"Most likely because of the spirit," Jack replied, his voice carrying certainty born from logical deduction.

"Glacius provided more than just combat enhancement. Some capability that allowed Warren to extend his lifespan or survive injuries that would kill normal contractors."

"Right," Ren confirmed, his smile widening at Jack’s accurate assessment. "Glacius has power that goes beyond simple damage multiplication. He can rewrite things about your body. Restructure tissue, accelerate healing, reverse cellular death if the damage hasn’t progressed beyond certain thresholds. It’s why Warren could survive for centuries despite taking injuries that should have killed him dozens of times over."

Ren paused, his expression shifting into something more calculating as he delivered the implied offer wrapped in a casual statement of fact.

"So if you make a deal with him, he might be able to offer you a solution. Convince the spirit that healing your arm serves his interests. Keeps him anchored to this plane through a new contractor and protects any entities that might want to claim or destroy Mythical Spirit without a human to defend it. He’s desperate enough now that negotiation becomes possible where it wasn’t before."

Jack’s mind cataloged the information alongside the alternative Magnus had suggested, recognizing patterns in how multiple sources were pointing toward similar solutions.

"Or you can seek out God’s Blood," Ren continued, his tone making clear he was presenting options rather than advocating a specific approach. "That’s the other path available to you if spirit negotiation seems too risky or uncertain."

Jack’s expression shifted, curiosity bleeding into his features despite his attempts to maintain a neutral assessment. "Why is God’s Blood so important? Magnus mentioned it as well, saying drinking it would lead to a solution for my arm. But neither of you explained what makes it special beyond vague hints about divine properties."

Ren’s eyebrows elevated slightly, his expression transitioning to one of discernible surprise.

"You must not know your history, Soul Warden," Ren stated. "Let me provide context that will make the importance clear."

He changed his position, getting into a posture that made it seem like this would take a while to explain properly.

"All gods existed in a world before Erbeon, before any of the current worlds were created," Ren began.

"The gods were born from Titans, primordial entities of such vast power that their smallest actions could reshape reality across entire dimensions. And the Titans themselves were born from the Primordials, beings so ancient and fundamental that they existed before time itself became a linear concept."

Jack remained silent, his mind processing the information while recognizing this was filling gaps in his understanding that he hadn’t even known existed.

"The gods grew bored with their parents," Ren continued, his tone conveying a sense of amusement regarding the perceived divine dysfunction.

"They wanted to rebel against the established order, to create rather than simply exist. So they decided to make worlds, hundreds of them, thousands perhaps. Entire realities populated with creatures they could shape and guide and play with like children arranging toys."

His expression darkened slightly, satisfaction giving way to something more ominous.

"Because of this rebellion, the Titans were ordered to deal with their children. The Primordials were fed up with their order being disrupted, with reality being reshaped by juvenile gods who thought creation was a game rather than a sacred responsibility. The resulting conflict reshaped existence itself. Gods fighting Titans, Titans attempting to unmake their children’s creations, reality burning under the weight of power that transcended mortal comprehension."

Ren paused, his eyes tracking Jack’s face to ensure the significance was registering.

"And one god chose to lead all the others," Ren stated, his voice carrying weight that made the next words feel inevitable. "This god created the most worlds out of any divine being. Not just one or two realities but dozens, each one carefully crafted to serve a specific purpose. This god was named Sarin."

Jack’s expression remained neutral despite recognition flooding his consciousness. Sarin, the name attached to the skill he’d just created, the legendary figure whose details eluded him.

"Sarin created God’s Blood so humans and other creatures could worship him." Ren’s tone then shifted, conveying profound respect intertwined with subtle yet discernible satisfaction.

"The trees that produce it were planted across multiple worlds, their sap carrying divine essence that allowed mortals to commune directly with their creator. The worship gave Sarin great strength. Power drawn from billions of believers across countless realities, all channeling their faith toward a single focal point."

His expression hardened, satisfaction giving way to something more complex.

"But it also led to his delusion. The power, the worship, the constant reinforcement that he was the greatest among gods. It drove him mad. He became obsessed with bloodlust, sick of being targeted by Titans who saw him as a primary threat. So he decided to solve the problem permanently."

Ren’s voice dropped lower, taking on an almost reverential quality despite the topic of genocide.

"He decided to kill the Titans. All of them. Every single primordial entity that had birthed his parents and threatened his creations. And to accomplish this, he created this tower. Tartarus Spire. He created Erbeon and many other worlds as staging grounds for his war. He accumulated so many nicknames that listing them all would take hours. The Mad King. The Creator. Sarin the Mighty. The Avatar of Elements. The God Who United Gods. The list goes on endlessly."

Jack’s tactical mind processed the information with a growing understanding of the scale he’d been operating at without recognizing it.

Sarin wasn’t just an ancient god or a legendary figure. He was the foundational entity whose actions had shaped reality itself.