Infinite Mana Exorcist

The woman standing at the center of the grand hall observed the bewildered faces of every individual present. Their expressions were plastered with confusion, their eyes struggling to process her words.

For one, she was no ordinary woman. She was a majestic being—an angel—her stunning white feathered wings unfurled as she hovered just a few feet off the pristine marble floor. A sight that, to any human, was nothing short of extraordinary.

Panic rippled through the crowd. Some instinctively took a step back, their minds racing to rationalize what they were seeing. Others were paralyzed, mouths slightly agape, too overwhelmed to react. Hetan Jarvis, the angel in question, took note of this reaction and adjusted her approach.

She needed to be more direct.

"You are all dead."

Silence.

The simple declaration hung over them like a hammer poised to strike.

"Dead on Earth, at least," she continued, her voice laced with a calm certainty. "But the Deities have found it in their hearts to grant you a blessing—a second life."

A second life?

Murmurs erupted among the crowd, growing louder and more frantic with each passing second.

"I am Hetan Jarvis," she went on, bowing her head slightly. "The Ninth Guardian Angel. I will be guiding you through your rebirth."

That single word—rebirth—struck the deepest.

The murmurs transformed into full-blown outbursts as the implications of her statement sank in.

Meanwhile, Yuka Hikano remained silent, absorbing every word. Unlike the others, who were overwhelmed with disbelief, grief, or denial, he found a twisted sense of logic in it. He had died, hadn't he? He remembered the sickness—the burning sensation devouring his body from the inside out. He remembered the pain, the fear, the moment when everything faded to black.

Yes. It made sense.

But even though it made sense, the answers he received only created more questions.

Hetan, unfazed by the chaos, continued, "Now, I will explain what is happening to you."

The room grew quieter, the anxious whispers settling into a tense hush.

"You will all be tested before being sent to a new world. The test is simple. You will be allowed to choose the gifts that will accompany you in your new life." She paused, her gaze sweeping over them. "However, be warned… The gifts can also choose you."

The weight of her words pressed down on them, but before anyone could voice their concerns, she raised her hand and gestured toward the left side of the room.

A loud rumble shook the floor.

Suddenly, as if conjured from thin air, an enormous wall stretched endlessly across the hall. Thousands upon thousands of doors lined its surface, each unique—some glowing with golden inscriptions, others pulsing with eerie crimson light. Some appeared ancient, covered in vines and rusted iron, while others radiated an unsettling darkness, as though they devoured the light around them.

A collective shiver ran through the group.

"These are the gifts from the Deities," Hetan announced. "They have chosen to grant you assistance. Choose wisely. Once you have made your decision, you will return here."

A pause.

"Any questions?"

It took mere seconds before a hand shot up.

A young man with a tense expression spoke, "I don't understand. Are we… getting reincarnated?"

Hetan scrunched her nose slightly before giving a slow nod.

"You could say that," she admitted. "But that wouldn't be entirely accurate. You will know when the deed is done."

Before she could elaborate, another voice interrupted her.

"Wait!" An older man, probably in his fifties, stepped forward. His face was contorted with distress. "What about my children? My son, my daughter! I can't just forget about them!"

"Yeah, my fiancée! She's waiting for me!" A woman cried out, her voice laced with desperation.

"Please, send me back!" another pleaded. "I need to see my parents again!"

"My PC! At least help me clear my search history!"

From every direction, cries of protest and grief poured out.

Hetan closed her eyes and sighed.

She had expected this. It always happened.

Yuka, however, remained silent.

Of course, he wanted to object. He wanted to demand an explanation. But deep down, he already knew.

There was no going back.

Even without Hetan saying it, the truth was evident.

They were gone.

His parents were gone. His sister was gone.

His life was gone.

Hetan allowed the uproar to continue for a few moments longer before she decided to silence them.

A surge of energy erupted from her body.

It wasn't aggressive, nor was it violent. But it carried an overwhelming weight, an undeniable command that pressed against their souls, forcing their voices to die in their throats.

All at once, the room fell into an eerie stillness.

"There is no way to return to your previous lives," Hetan stated firmly. "Even if I wanted to send you back, I cannot. Time flows differently here. For all you know, it has been decades—centuries—even millennia since your deaths. The people you mourn may no longer even exist."

The words hit harder than any supernatural force she could have unleashed.

A crushing, devastating silence followed.

She continued, her voice softer but no less resolute.

"I suggest you let go of your past and focus on the present."

No one responded.

The reality of their situation had finally begun to sink in.

Hetan observed their defeated expressions and nodded in satisfaction.

"Now," she said, "any more questions?"

Silence.

Most had lost the will to argue.

They knew there was no point.

Just as Hetan was about to instruct them to make their choices, a single hand rose into the air.

Hetan's golden eyes flickered with intrigue.

Who had the nerve to speak after everything she had just said?

It was Yuka.

She tilted her head, studying him carefully as he lowered his hand and spoke.

"Can you at least tell us where we're going?" His voice was calm. Unshaken.

Hetan's lips curled into a small smile.

Now this was interesting.

"I cannot say," she admitted. "But if I were you…"

Her eyes gleamed.

"I would prepare for the worst."