"How did you die?" The Grim Reaper asked again.
"...Goddess Minervia struck me down with lightning."
"Ah." It murmured. "That explains it..."
"What?"
"You’ve been cursed, Son of Death."
Virgil could only stare back at the Grim Reaper blankly.
Every answer it gave only seemed to produce two more questions, leaving him more confused than when the conversation had begun.
"Her light extends to your soul. It corrupts and destroys. It is only a matter of time before the corruption is complete."
"..."
He glanced down at himself.
His body looked perfectly fine.
There was no numbness, no pain, nothing that suggested his soul was being torn apart.
"I don’t feel anything."
Naturally, Virgil knew what curses were and had seen them in action.
Those affected by curses gradually lost themselves in the pain, eventually either dying or becoming what the one who placed the curse intended.
"Your body here is a temporary manifestation. It reflects the shape you were, but the core beneath is fracturing like glass. It is only a matter of time before even your manifestation feels the pain of the curse."
"And what happens when it fully corrupts my soul?"
"Your soul will perish, leaving behind a shell wearing your face, bound to the will of the one who cursed you."
Virgil lowered his gaze, watching the portal shimmer.
"It is truly a pity for the Son of Death to meet his end at the hands of his father’s enemies."
"..."
"Tell me, do you regret your decisions?"
"That’s..."
’Pretty fucking obvious.’
He opened his mouth to say those words, but no words seemed to come out.
He did indeed regret his decisions.
"Is there no way for me to break the curse?"
"No. Any resistance will be in vain. The longer you struggle against the curse, the more agonizing your final moments will be. There is only one way to break a curse, but it is unattainable for mortals."
He knew what the Grim Reaper was talking about.
Universally, there was only one way to break a curse.
"..."
"Then I’ll kill the goddess."
The Grim Reaper fell silent, the icy blue light beneath its hood flickered, as if it measured the weight of his words.
"A bold declaration for a dying soul."
"But it’s possible," he retorted.
"To slay a god requires authority you do not currently possess, Son of Death, you have yet to claim your inheritance nor fight in the succession battle."
Then suddenly, a razor sharp chill sliced through the center of his chest.
It wasn’t physical pain, but a deep, hollow sensation that made his breathing stop for a moment.
He gritted his teeth.
"...Perhaps, I may be able to help."
The Grim Reaper let out a dry rasp that sounded like grinding stone.
Virgil looked up to face it.
"However, if you even wish to claim your inheritance, prove the blood in your veins is not hollow."
"How?"
"Your affinities lay dormant within you. Reach into your spirit and force them out."
He couldn’t help but smile bitterly at its words.
The very same affinities he had tried to awaken were what forced him into this position in the first place.
"...I can’t."
The path of magic began in childhood, where aspiring mages spent years learning the fundamentals of magic, in the hopes of manifesting an affinity.
For most, it never came.
For the very few that did awaken, however, it was only after years of testing every possible element and gaining enough knowledge and understanding of it that the affinity would manifest.
After losing access to his affinities, Virgil had tried every conceivable method to reconnect with them.
It never worked.
"Is that so?" The Reaper took a step toward him. "Then I shall guide you."
It raised one pale hand towards his head.
"Close your eyes."
The moment he did, he felt his consciousness moving inwards.
The world disappeared.
There was no crimson sky.
He reached for his fracturing core.
He could make out three distinct currents, something he could only assume to be his three affinities.
It wasn’t long before he found the first one.
A sharp, jagged spark of Lightning.
For Shadow, it was a fluid mist that hovered on the fringe of his core.
And finally, a cold, absolute, bottomless ocean of freezing, crushing weight.
Death.
’I need to take everything.’
He used his willpower to grab all three at once, forcing them to surge outward together.
It was an instant mistake.
The two dominant affinities clashed with each other and with him.
They refused to yield to his control, completely ignoring him.
Instead, they turned against each other. The sheer violence of their collision threatened to destroy his core.
The only one that remained was Shadow.
It slithered into the empty space he had created within his core.
Almost instantly, he was pulled out.
Virgil dropped to his knees on the stone road, gasping violently for air.
A cold, slippery mist materialized around him, wrapping around his hands like liquid ink.
The Grim Reaper watched from above, thoroughly unimpressed.
"Your attempt has only hastened the destruction of your soul."
He remained on his knees, forcing the ink-like mist back into his skin as his chest throbbed with a dull, heavy agony that refused to go away.
Virgil slowly stood up.
"For one who carries the blood of the God of Death, even Death itself does not respect you."
"...Can I try again?"
"No. You have already reached into your core once. If you attempt it again, your core will shatter."
"But do not despair. If you are truly deserving of what you seek. Then perhaps you will survive the trials that await you."
The Reaper stepped forward.
"Now, come, Son of Death."
Without waiting for a reply, it entered the portal.
The portal crackled with dark lightning as the Reaper disappeared to the other side.
Virgil stared at the crackling black void for a single heartbeat, let out a slow exhale, and stepped into the dark.
[A/N: My apologies, daily Chapter updates will start now.