I Died and Became a Noble's Heir

Chapter 855: Celestial War

A brilliant, lightless pulse of obsidian energy erupted from the God of Death’s armored palm. The energy expanded outward in a series of twelve massive, concentric geometric rings that sank directly through the floorboards of the royal box.

Deep beneath the arena, through the bedrock of Floor Thirteen and reverberating up through the Spire’s vertical axis, a series of twelve concussive, planetary thuds echoed in rapid succession.

The entire Spire shuddered. From the storm-lashed seas of Floor Eleven to the glacial permafrost of Floor Twenty-Two, the ancient spatial anchors of the Tartarus Spire severed their ties to the natural cosmos.

The territorial arrays, the mana conduits, and the indigenous populations bound themselves permanently to the absolute soul ledger of Jack Kaiser.

A golden system interface expanded across Jack’s vision.

[System Notification: Sovereign Domain Expansion Confirmed.]

[Floors Sealed: 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22.]

[Main Quest Updated: Dreknar’s Favor Part 5.]

[Progress: 23 / 30 Floors Completed.]

The notification dissolved into sparkling golden dust. Jack felt his baseline soul density grow heavier, denser, and irrevocably integrated into the world’s architecture.

The God of Death lowered his armored hand. The gray flames in his eyes narrowed as he observed the human before him.

“You grow closer to the apex, Jack,” the God of Death murmured. His voice dropped into a lower, more intimate register that isolated the two of them from the terrified elves.

“Which leads me to ask. Will you speak with Draven again? He waits within the Halls of the Eternals. He watches your ascent with great interest, yet you have refused to commune with your patron deity since your last audience.”

Jack’s jaw set hard. His heterochromic eyes flashed with sharp, icy disdain, his fingers curling slightly inside his coat pockets.

“I will speak to Draven when he grows a backbone,” Jack said. His voice remained entirely devoid of reverence. “The last time I projected my astral form into the Halls of the Eternals, I looked your brother in the face and called him exactly what he is. A coward. He sacrificed his own brother, Sarin, to broker a pathetic, temporary peace in a war he lacked the stomach to win. I have no use for weak gods who butcher their own blood to beg for survival. If Draven wants an audience with me, he can wait until he is ready to move forward like and act like a true God that doesn’tbend because things get hard.”

Jack paused. He stepped closer until he stood two feet from the towering avatar of Death, entirely unfazed by the crushing aura that kept the elven nobility paralyzed in their own vomit.

“Besides,” Jack added. A dangerous, knowing smirk touched his lips. “My dragon, Tharaxis, decided to open his mouth finally. He told me the truth before we descended to this arena. He told me that my existence is the catalyst. That my growth will bring about the return of Sarin and Malakai.”

The God of Death did not flinch. His aura did not flare in anger.

Instead, a soft, dry rasp escaped the skull helm. A genuine, dark chuckle vibrated through the metal, sounding like coins falling into an empty urn.

“I am surprised you found out already,” the God of Death said. His tone remained entirely nonchalant, confirming the ancient prophecy without a single shred of denial.

“Tharaxis always had a big mouth when his pride was wounded. But yes, lightning boy. The ancient lizard speaks true. The threads of fate have bound your soul to the resurrection of the Primordial Progenitor and his sole heir.”

Jack’s heterochromic eyes narrowed to razor points. His mind instantly mapped out the geopolitical and cosmic reality of the revelation.

“If I am going to tear open the cosmic seal and drag Sarin back into the physical realms,” Jack stated. His words landed measured and heavy with absolute calculation. “I can only assume that the moment his presence touches reality, the pantheons will shatter. There will be a celestial war that makes this Spire look like a children’s brawl.”

“There will be,” the God of Death confirmed flatly. “The gods of the upper realms tore Sarin apart because they feared his absolute authority over creation. They buried Malakai because his army could not be broken by mortal or divine steel. When you summon them back, every pantheon in the cosmos will descend upon you to extinguish the flame before it burns their thrones to ash.”

Jack scoffed quietly. He tilted his head back to look up at the dark stone ceiling. “Then I am nowhere near strong enough. If I am to slaughter an army of gods, my current threshold is laughable.”

“Then do what you were forged to do, Jack Kaiser,” the God of Death rasped. He stepped forward until his icy, shadow-draped presence enveloped Jack’s vision.

The deity raised a single, armored finger. He pointed it directly at Jack’s chest, right over his soul core.

“I can see your soul, Jack,” the God of Death whispered. His voice vibrated with ancient, chilling insight. “I can see the brilliant, shining silver streaks running across your metaphysical meridians. The indelible marks left upon your flesh and spirit. You carry the stigmata of wielding Sarin’s ancient techniques. You have copied the skills of the Head God, and the cosmos marks you for it. Only a god can see those silver streaks, but they shine like beacons in the dark.”

Jack felt a faint, deep resonance thrumming beneath his ribs, a subtle vibration of cold silver light humming in the deepest pathways of his core.

The God of Death lowered his gaze slightly, noting the empty left sleeve hanging from Jack’s coat where his hand had once been.

“You even severed your own limb without flinching to preserve your core,” the deity noted with an approving rasp.

“Pain and mutilation are the true currency of those who reach for the throne of creation. The path to godhood is simple for a Soul Warden. Consume. Devour more power. Harvest more legions. Strip the elements from this world and fuse them into your core until you command the elemental subclasses that only the primordial gods could manifest. When you can rewrite the physical laws with a snap of your fingers, the pantheons will tremble.”

The God of Death lowered his hand. The void behind him widened once more, the spatial tear preparing to pull him back into the underworld realms.

“Keep climbing, lightning boy,” the God of Death said. His gray flames flickered with a mysterious, parting amusement. “Finish this Spire. Gather your army. But do not linger in these lower depths for too long. I have business in Elysium that requires my immediate attention. A rather high-profile wedding is about to take place, and the guests will be sorely disappointed if Death does not make his appearance. I can feel the dead already from the events about to unfold.”

Before Jack could press for details regarding the wedding or the guests, the God of Death stepped backward into the tear. The void snapped shut behind him with the dry, absolute finality of an iron tomb door closing forever.

The suffocating divine pressure vanished instantly.

Across the royal box, the ten Council members collapsed fully onto the stone. They drew frantic, sobbing gasps of air into their bruised lungs. Their aristocratic composure shattered as they realized the human holding their souls was preparing to wage war against the gods themselves.

Jack Kaiser stood tall in the center of the platform. The invisible silver streaks within his meridians hummed with cold, ambitious power as he looked down at the frozen arena, his mind already calculating the absolute destruction he would bring to the celestial realms.

‘This crazy mother fucker is going to crash my plans in Elysium? I wonder how many people I’ll have to kill this time.’