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

Chapter 206: The End Beyond the Spiral

The battlefield had long since become a graveyard.

Corpses of monsters—twisted, spiral-infused aberrations—lay scattered in warped terrain, some half-fused into the ground, others vaporized in ghost-fire from Isaac's legion of weapons. Craters dotted the cracked earth. Mountains had been leveled. Mana storms surged in the sky as the laws of nature continued to strain beneath the weight of a battle not meant for this world.

And still they fought.

For more than four hours.

Each clash was a cataclysm. Each blow from Rhollath shattered landscapes. Each counterstrike from Isaac rewrote what people believed one man could do. And yet the end was finally in sight.

Rhollath was failing.

The Spiral God's avatar—once pristine in its grotesque perfection—now barely held shape. Holes riddled its torso where weapons had torn through its recursive layers. One of its heads was entirely gone, replaced with a writhing mass of unfinished limbs. The core spiral in its chest flickered erratically, like a dying star. Its movements had become sluggish, fragmented.

But its voice—if one could still call it a voice—remained sharp.

"This body... was never meant to be eternal."

"You fight like a god. Yet all you've slain... is my shadow."

Isaac, standing in a burning pit created by their last exchange, breathed evenly. His armor was scorched. His arms bore thin cuts from energy pulses. His heartbeat was steady, and his eyes never left the spiral core.

He was tired.

But only a little.

Compared to the god's condition, he looked untouched.

"Talk while you can," he said. "Your spiral ends here."

Rhollath convulsed, rising higher on its shifting pillar of fused limbs.

"Ends?"

"I am not here. I never was."

"You stand before a vessel—nothing more."

Its form shifted again—seams of glowing red energy crawling across its skin.

"I exist beyond. I endure."

"If you destroy this avatar, I will gather more believers."

"I will return."

"And next time… I will be stronger."

Isaac said nothing.

His eyes narrowed as the system shimmered faintly in his mind—like a reminder.

[6 Skill Selections Remaining][View Skills?]

He had left them untouched until now.

Now, as the Spiral God declared its inevitability, as it threatened to repeat the cycle—again—he knew what he needed.

He opened the interface.

And saw six shining options.

Five were powerful. One was different.

It glowed darker.

Almost hungry.

[REVELATION PROTOCOL – Rank EX+]Passive/ActiveGrants the user the ability to sever the anchor link between an avatar and its origin.When used, destroys the avatar and forcibly severs or obliterates the spiritual tether to the original being.If the anchor is unstable, the original body will die.May only be used once per being. Requires direct line of sight to avatar core.Cannot be blocked by spatial, divine, or systemic protections.

Isaac's lips parted slightly.

The Spiral God had just told him everything he needed.

That this form was linked.

That it would return.

That it was arrogant enough to believe no one could reach across that link.

He selected the skill.

[Skill Acquired: Revelation Protocol – Rank EX+]

Integration complete. Awaiting trigger conditions...

He raised his hand.

And Rhollath stopped speaking.

It felt it.

Felt something sever its illusion of permanence.

"What have you—"

Isaac walked forward slowly, each step pressing into the ashen stone beneath his feet.

"No more cycles," he said quietly.

"No more anchors. No more avatars."

He pointed directly at the core spiral embedded in Rhollath's chest.

[Trigger Condition Met.][Activating Revelation Protocol – Rank EX+]

The world stilled.

Then everything screamed.

A single, spear-shaped glyph of pure inverse light exploded from Isaac's palm and pierced the spiral.

Rhollath let out a shattering, multi-layered howl—not of pain, but of denial.

Its body froze. The spiral in its chest cracked.

"NO. YOU CANNOT—YOU ARE NOT—YOU WERE NEVER—"

The voice shattered.

The spiral's glow flickered.

Then extinguished.

Rhollath's colossal frame convulsed once, limbs thrashing—then collapsed inwards, not as if dying, but as if being deleted. Spirals reversed, skin folded, eyes wept smoke, and mouthless heads melted back into nothingness.

And far, far away, in a dimension not meant for mortals—

Something screamed one final time.

Then fell silent.

Forever.

—

The dust did not settle.

It simply ceased to matter.

And in the middle of a dead battlefield, Isaac exhaled and lowered his hand.

He looked upward at the fading clouds.

Then whispered to himself:

"Even gods die… if you know where to cut."