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

Chapter 171: The Invitation of Lust 

The city was unusually quiet.

Isaac strolled along the elevated walkway of whitewood that ringed one of Elaraiya's oldest temples, high above the bustle of the lower tiers. The sun hung lazily above the horizon, and a cool breeze moved through the trees. Lira walked ahead, humming quietly to herself, while Sylvalen walked beside him in silence, fingers loosely brushing his sleeve.

Peace. For once.

Isaac exhaled.

Then the world… stopped.

The wind froze. Birdsong ceased mid-note. Lira halted in mid-turn, her eyes half-lidded, braid suspended like thread in water. Sylvalen, halfway through blinking, remained still.

Only Isaac could move.

His breath misted.

A shimmer bloomed ahead.

She appeared.

Not as flesh. Not in full form.

But as a layered projection—a dream wrapped around space.

Asmodeus.

Her figure coalesced at the far end of the walkway, barefoot, radiant, dressed in flowing ribbons of shadow-veil and amethyst light. Her black hair trailed like ink in water, and her violet eyes shimmered—not with seduction alone, but with longing.

"…Isaac," she whispered. "So it was you."

He didn't flinch. But his posture shifted subtly. Defensive.

"You already knew that," he said evenly.

"I suspected," she said, walking forward, her feet not touching the ground. "But I hoped it was just a coincidence. That the boy who intrigued me in that broken temple wasn't the same anomaly who keeps upsetting the balance of Sin and Order."

Her smile was tinged with warmth and sorrow.

"You devoured Satan's gift," she murmured. "A blessing shaped from his own essence. And you discarded it—like it meant nothing."

Isaac's eyes narrowed. "It wasn't 'discarded.' I used it. Sacrificed it. Transformed it."

She stepped closer, tilting her head.

"And Beelzebub's curse… That too, you didn't keep. You merged it. You created something that even I… can't name."

Her voice was breathless, almost reverent.

"I've watched for centuries. Sins rise and fall. Hosts burn from the inside. You… you took their essence and made it yours. You wear it like armor. And yet, you are untouched."

Isaac's tone was measured. "Is that why you're here? To figure out what I am?"

"No," she said. "I already know."

Her violet gaze softened.

"You're the only person I've ever met who wasn't afraid to change what others said could not be changed. You didn't run from power. But you didn't worship it either."

She took another step forward—illusion or not, it felt close.

"And when we met… you looked at me—not as a threat. Not as prey. Not even as temptation."

Isaac stayed quiet.

"You looked at me like I was… real," she said quietly. "And I haven't stopped thinking about that since."

Isaac lowered his arms.

"What do you want, Asmodeus?"

Her expression became more guarded. "I can't enter this world fully. Not yet. The gods are watching, and I've drawn too much attention. But I can whisper. I can offer."

She extended her hand, and a black crystalline rose blossomed in the air between them. Its petals shimmered with faint pulses of pink and violet; its stem pulsed with veiled power.

"This isn't a trap. It isn't a contract. It's a door."

He stared at it.

Then at her.

She smiled faintly.

"When the time comes," she whispered, "walk through it—if you want to know what I've built. What Lust looks like when it's not corruption, but devotion."

She turned, her illusion beginning to flicker.

"And Isaac… if nothing else…"

She looked back.

"…I want to see you again. Not because of what you've destroyed—but because of what you choose to keep."

Her image dissolved like ash on the wind.

And time resumed.

Lira blinked and looked over her shoulder. "Hmm? You stopped."

Sylvalen glanced up at him. "Something wrong?"

Isaac's hand hovered near the black rose. He touched it.

It vanished into his palm.

Not gone.

Stored.

Waiting.

"…No," he said quietly. "Just thinking."