I Was Reborn in Another World, But I Awoke Inside a Corpse

Chapter 114: The Weight of Victory

The air still hadn't moved.

It was as if the world had paused to catch up—to what had happened, to what had been lost, and to what had been born in the wake of a god's end. Across the shattered ridgeline, melted snow clung to jagged stone, reflecting the pale light of a sun uncertain whether it was rising or setting.

Nothing stirred.

Not until the notification arrived.

Isaac stood quietly on a stretch of rock overlooking the site where Itzpapalotl had fallen—if a divine fragment could be said to fall. The only sound was the steady flutter of his cloak in the wind. The Spiritforge Blade was still pulsing faintly behind him, even though it had already chosen its master.

His hand opened slowly at his side, palm glowing as the system message shimmered into his vision.

[LEVEL UP]

[You have gained EXP: 1,438,900]

[Soul Devourer Matrix – Rank EX+] effect: NULL (kill not direct)]

[Overwhelming Contribution Detected: Bonus EXP applied.]

[Level: 35 → 68]

[You may now select 6 new skills.]

Isaac didn't move for a moment. He simply studied the message, his golden eyes calm, calculating.

'So even without a soul absorb, I still leveled,' he thought. 'That tells me everything I need to know about the scale of what we just did.'

There was no triumph in his expression. No celebration.

Only clarity.

Nearby, standing near a fractured ledge where the storm had passed, Sylvalen Thalara pressed a hand to her chest.

She had only just sheathed the Spiritforge Blade. Her breath came slow, deep, steady—more controlled now than it had ever been in her life. But her body felt different. It wasn't just the absence of fatigue. It was presence—overflowing presence.

Her ears twitched faintly as her system flared open.

[LEVEL UP]

[You have gained EXP: 2,094,700]

[God-Slaying Bonus Applied]

[Level: 109 → 142]

Her lips parted, but no words emerged.

Level 142.

A number that belonged in legends, not reality.

Her hands began to tremble, not from weakness—but from the staggering magnitude of what that number represented.

She hesitated… then brought up her full status.

[STATUS – Sylvalen Thalara]

Level: 142

Race: High Elf (Royal Bloodline)

Title: Spiritforge Chosen

Strength: 412Agility: 439Endurance: 486Intelligence: 470Willpower: 501Charisma: 398Luck: 220

The numbers weren't just high.

They were terrifying.

'I'm not an adventurer anymore,' she thought. 'I'm… something else now.'

And as her gaze drifted to the Spiritforge Blade pulsing behind her, she realized something that struck her harder than any system message:

This power didn't just belong to her.

It had accepted her.

Isaac approached slowly, his footsteps soft on the loose stone, though they echoed more than they should have.

"You felt it too?" he asked.

Sylvalen nodded without looking at him. "It's like the world itself acknowledged us."

He paused beside her, hands behind his back.

"You leveled."

She let out a short laugh, breath misting in the cool air. "Leveled? I—Isaac, I gained thirty-three levels. Do you know how long it took me to get from one hundred to one hundred and ten?"

He smiled faintly. "About two years, right?"

She blinked. "How did you—"

"I read your bio once," he said dryly.

Sylvalen stared at him, then rolled her eyes.

"You leveled too?"

"I did," he replied. "Up to sixty-eight."

Her eyes widened. "But… your soul skill didn't trigger."

"It didn't have to," Isaac said. "The system… gave me credit anyway. Enough, at least."

A pause.

Then she asked, "And now?"

"I choose six new skills."

She blinked again. "Six?"

Isaac glanced over the ledge. "Two for every ten levels. Perks of breaking the rules."

There was a long moment of silence.

Then Sylvalen spoke again, quieter this time. "Is it always like this?"

He glanced at her.

"After something ends," she continued. "After something this big… do you just feel… empty?"

Isaac's expression didn't change, but his voice softened.

"No. Not empty. Just quiet. Like the world's holding its breath, wondering what you'll do with the weight in your hands."

She looked down at her fingers, flexed them slowly.

"I don't want to waste it."

"You won't."

"I thought killing a god would change me forever."

"It has," he said. "But not into someone else. Just… into more of who you were always meant to be."

They stood side by side.

No fanfare.

No applause.

Just two people on the edge of history, bearing the silence of a world waiting to react.

In the distance, the wind began to pick up again, carrying whispers far from the mountain. News would spread. Titles would be given. Rewards offered. Fears awakened.

But here, now, in this quiet aftermath—

All that mattered was this:

They had changed the world.

And now, the world would have to decide what to do with them.