This is the prologue.
It is recommended to start reading the main text from the next chapter.
…
“To the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure.” Yet over all these years, no wizard had ever managed to complete this particular adventure.
There are exceptions to every rule, however.
Huh?
Look at that—there was an exception right in front of them.
Death tapped his brow bone with a touch of annoyance, feeling that it still didn’t quite feel right.
He squeezed it firmly, raising the brow bone a fraction higher.
Ah, much better—perfectly symmetrical now.
He had been in too much of a hurry when shaping his appearance earlier.
Yes, this Death was newly born, not the Death from *The Tales of Beedle the Bard*.
That, after all, was merely a collection of stories, where Death was simply a wizarding metaphor for the concept of mortality—a tale of three powerful wizards who attempted to evade their bound fate through power, resurrection, and trickery.
Death glanced at the three anxious spirits seated around the round table and gave a faint shake of his head.
On one side of the table, an old ghost wizard in a star-dappled blue robe with a long, soft silver beard spoke up: “Your Grace, could we exile him to a distant resting ground in some foreign land? Let him wreak havoc on someone else.”
A finger bone detached from Death’s hand and floated up, swaying gently.
Ripples of magic spread outward, carrying Death’s hollow voice to all those present.
“He has already traveled through those other lands. The borders of the realm of the dead cannot hold that fellow. Since he insists on staying here, even I cannot drive him out.”
Another wave of low murmurs rustled through the room.
An emaciated, wizened old wizard in green robes, looking remarkably like a monkey, sought the opinions of his three companions before standing up to address the table.
Remarkably, his hair was entirely green—quite a contrast to his white beard, suggesting it might have been dyed later in life.
The green-haired old wizard spoke in a harsh, raspy voice: “You do not oppose linking with the underworlds of foreign lands, and you surely possess the power to do so. Could you perhaps lend us your hand and rally the powerful spirits of every realm to defeat him together? Even if we cannot destroy him, gathering the strength of legendary wizards throughout history should surely allow us to seal him away.”
Death’s finger bone swayed once more.
“To stake all our chips on a mere chance at victory? Setting aside whether he has trump cards hidden up his sleeve, even if we were to seal him, can you guarantee he wouldn’t find a way to break free? Furthermore, can you guarantee that his methods for breaking free wouldn’t shatter our world? I would wager that if he laid out all his cards right now, the realm of the dead would be destroyed first, and the lingering shocks would wipe out the world of the living along with it. That is precisely why Gaia brought me into existence—the world must endure. Our only option is to persuade him to stop his research. If he continues, the laws of the realm of the dead will be forcibly rewritten first, leading to a collapse of the rules of the entire world. That is utterly unacceptable.”
At the head of the table sat a middle-aged male spirit with a resolute face, clad in armor and clutching a broadsword—looking far more like a knight than a wizard—his short hair shimmering like flowing flames.
He pondered for a moment before speaking: “Do you mean for us to go and persuade him together? Although we were the first people he encountered upon arriving here, I hardly think our relationship with him is close enough to make him abandon his lifelong ambition. After all, he ended his so-called ‘first playthrough’ and came to this world of his own accord precisely to complete this great adventure.”
The floating finger bone returned to its master’s hand.
The skeletal hand then gripped the scythe leaning against the table, using it to push Death to his feet.
Death raised the scythe and brought it down heavily against the floor, parting his skeletal jaw.
This time, however, what emerged was not Death’s raspy, hollow voice, but a gentle, loving female voice.
It reminded the departed souls of a warm spring breeze from the land of the living, like returning to a mother’s embrace.
“‘Death is but the next great adventure.’ Ordinarily, there is no turning back on this journey. But under exceptional circumstances, updating the rules of the game is no bad thing for any of us. Have Death send him back first to begin what he calls his ‘second playthrough.’ Pause his progress in this realm, and when he arrives here once more, I shall offer him a bargain he cannot refuse.”
The figures around the table stood up and bowed deeply.
“As you wish, Gaia.”