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

Chapter 225: Trial of Harmony

The air within Emberlight shifted.

In a wide clearing near the mana lake, the landscape shimmered as glowing blue circuits laced through the grass, spreading out in concentric rings. At the center stood Isaac, arms folded, a thoughtful look on his face.

Before him, the three stood together—Lira, Sylvalen, and Asmodeus.

"Are you ready?" he asked, voice low but charged with anticipation.

Sylvalen stepped forward first. "This is our first time fighting as one. It will tell us who we've become."

Asmodeus smiled faintly. "I've waited centuries for a bond like this. Let's see what it can do."

Lira adjusted her staff, hands trembling slightly. "I… I'm ready. Let's do this together."

Isaac nodded and snapped his fingers.

The world changed instantly.

The scenery flickered—trees vanished, stone platforms rose, and artificial storm clouds formed above them. A glowing dome closed around the field like a theater stage.

[Trial Simulation: Ascended Tier Activated]

Parameters:

Enemy count: 50Threat level: Godspawn-class replicasTime limit: NoneObjective: Total annihilationObservation Mode: Active

The enemies appeared in formation—humanoid constructs radiating divine aura, some wielding blades of light, others hurling condensed elemental fury. In raw stat value, each one rivaled the former gods of the outer heavens.

Isaac had designed the simulation to push them to their current limit.

Sylvalen was the first to act. She dashed forward with impossible speed, her blade slicing through the first two enemies in a silver arc of moonlight. Her body moved like water, weaving through attacks with elven precision.

Then came Lira—her staff charged with crackling azure lightning. "Chainbreak: Stormlash!"

Bolts of lightning erupted outward, striking multiple targets in rapid succession. The ground erupted into flashes of electric-blue devastation.

Yet it was Asmodeus who stole their breath.

She floated into the air with a calm, regal grace. Her hand extended—and a crimson-black sigil unfurled behind her, blooming like a demonic flower.

"Soulbinding Flame: Reversal Baptism."

A sphere of corrupted fire consumed half the battlefield. Enemies caught within it screamed silently as their divine cores were unraveled, reversing their essence until they shattered from within.

Isaac observed silently, arms crossed.

Their power wasn't just impressive—it was synchronized.

Lira's spells fed off Sylvalen's sword strokes.

Sylvalen's attacks flowed around Asmodeus's zones of control.

Asmodeus adapted to their tempo, shielding them when needed and devastating anything they missed.

More importantly, they were aware of one another's movements as if guided by instinct—the soul-bond enhancing their awareness of each other's positioning, rhythm, and flow.

Halfway through, Isaac changed the simulation.

The enemies transformed into six high-tier avatars—beings with layered shielding and pseudo-divine consciousness. In a real-world battle, they would challenge gods.

But not this team.

Sylvalen stepped forward and created an opening.

Lira followed with a burst of lightning-fast teleportation magic, reappearing above the enemy with a destructive sigil channeled through her staff.

Asmodeus finished it by whispering a forbidden invocation that collapsed the enemy's form inwards like a black hole made of fire and love.

Ten minutes later, it was over.

Every construct had been dismantled, purified, or erased.

Sylvalen was calm and breathing evenly. Lira's face shone with exhilaration. Asmodeus looked down at her hands in thoughtful silence—her lips curled into a soft smile.

Isaac slowly approached them.

"No wasted movement," he said. "No hesitation. And your synchronization—flawless."

Lira beamed. "I didn't even have to think. I felt what they were doing."

Sylvalen placed a hand on her shoulder. "As did I. The link between us is real. Not symbolic. It's alive."

Asmodeus added, her voice thoughtful, "This is no longer just about Isaac empowering us. It's about us becoming a whole."

Isaac looked at them—three women, three powers, and one shared bond that transcended love.

He smiled faintly. "You're not just strong. You're terrifying."

Lira flushed. "W-We're not terrifying…"

Asmodeus winked. "Speak for yourself."

As the simulation chamber faded, and Emberlight restored itself to tranquil serenity, the three stood together once more—closer, brighter, and bound in ways no system could ever quantify.

And Isaac, watching them with silent pride, knew one thing with certainty:

This was no longer a harem.

It was a trinity.

A force of love, soul, and power—

united for eternity.

Chapter 226: Return to the World

The skies above Emberlight were as tranquil as ever—twilight painted the clouds in strokes of violet and gold, and the ambient hum of mana drifted like a lullaby through the wind. For weeks, this place had been their sanctuary. Their refuge. Their shared beginning.

But the world outside hadn't stopped moving.

And it was time to return.

Isaac stood at the central platform, adjusting the last of the spatial runes with his fingertip. The [Teleport – Rank EX] array shimmered faintly, anchored to Terra's leyline network.

Behind him, the others approached.

Sylvalen arrived first, elegant in her pale blue travel robes. Her long silver hair was braided loosely, and her sword hung at her side in a moonsteel sheath.

"We've been gone long enough," she said softly. "There will be questions. Especially from my kin."

"Let them question," Isaac replied. "We'll give them only what they need to know."

Lira came running next, slightly breathless, holding a small enchanted satchel filled with scrolls and rune-bound tomes. "I packed a few things! Just in case we run into trouble…"

Isaac smiled. "You always think ahead."

She flushed. "I just… don't want to be a burden."

Asmodeus chuckled as she arrived last, dressed in her signature flowing crimson-black mantle, her eyes gleaming with serene power. "You won't be. You never were."

She looked around the platform, one hand resting on her hip.

"This place… it already feels like home."

Isaac nodded. "That's because it is. And it always will be. Emberlight will remain sealed and protected while we're gone."

He turned to face all three of them.

"No one will know what happened here. Your growth, your strength—it stays between us. Let the world underestimate you."

Sylvalen's eyes narrowed slightly, amused. "That sounds… strategic."

Lira giggled. "A secret trump card."

Asmodeus stepped beside Isaac and gently brushed her fingers against his. "We walk into the world with new strength—but we carry no arrogance."

Isaac activated the portal.

The runes expanded outward in a spiral of light, revealing a window to Terra—a quiet clearing on the southern edge of the Velkarth Basin, where they had last made camp. The air beyond shimmered with forest scent, wind, and the ever-present pull of the real world.

"Ready?" Isaac asked.

Sylvalen stepped forward. "Always."

Lira took a deep breath. "Let's go together."

Asmodeus smiled and said, "Together, or not at all."

They stepped into the light as one.

As they emerged on the other side, the portal closed quietly behind them, leaving no trace. The trees of Terra swayed gently in welcome. The distant chirping of wildlife returned to their ears.

The forest clearing looked the same—but nothing about them was the same anymore.

They stood in silence for a moment, listening. Feeling.

Lira looked up and whispered, "It's strange… we were only gone a little while, but it feels like a lifetime."

Sylvalen surveyed the landscape, sharp-eyed. "No patrols nearby. Good. We return unnoticed."

Isaac adjusted his coat and glanced at the horizon. "Let's keep it that way."

They began to walk—no longer just four individuals, but a unified force of love, purpose, and quiet, overwhelming power.

And Terra would never see it coming.

Chapter 227: The Sin Remembers

The capital of the Elven Kingdom stood tall and luminous before them—its golden spires glimmering beneath the cascading light of enchanted canopies, and crystalline bridges connecting ancient towers carved from living trees.

Isaac, Sylvalen, Lira, and Asmodeus passed through the outer gate with little fanfare, cloaked under illusionary concealment spells. Their return was not public—not yet.

Sylvalen led them through the side entrance of the royal compound, where only trusted staff moved. They were met by Elven Sentinels who bowed in her presence.

"Welcome home, Princess Thalara," one guard whispered. "There is… a matter you should be informed of. Urgently."

Sylvalen raised an eyebrow. "Speak."

The guard hesitated, then handed her a sealed scroll—a dark, charred parchment bound in a crimson wax seal shaped like a twisted ram's horn. A demonic glyph glowed faintly on the surface, pulsing like a heartbeat.

"It came three days ago," the guard continued, "addressed not to the Elven court, but… directly to him."

He turned toward Isaac.

Isaac took the scroll.

Asmodeus narrowed her eyes immediately. "I recognize that seal."

Lira stepped closer, already tense. "Is it…?"

Isaac nodded, breaking the wax.

He unrolled the parchment.

There was no ink. No handwriting. Only a voice—deep, ancient, and forged in molten fury—echoing directly into his mind:

"I see you now.

You who dared to take what was mine.

You who mocked my blessing and dared erase it."

The temperature around him dropped, even though the air shimmered with heat.

"I blessed you with power—unworthy though you were.

And you spat in the face of Wrath."

"You thought I would never find you."

"You were wrong."

"I will come for you. No avatar. No fragment. I will descend in full. The Sin of Wrath incarnate will know your name… and burn it from existence."

The message ended.

The scroll turned to ash in his hands.

A long silence followed.

Lira stared, stunned. "He knows…"

Sylvalen frowned. "He couldn't trace it before. How did he breach the veil?"

Asmodeus's expression was cold. "It doesn't matter how. He knows now. And if Satan is speaking directly… then this isn't a threat. It's a promise."

Isaac stood still, his eyes fixed on the sky beyond the balcony.

Then he exhaled, slow and calm. "Let him come…"

He paused—then his expression shifted, his voice hardening.

"No—actually… I don't need to wait."

He turned fully to face the others, his gaze burning with clarity and purpose.

"I'll go to him."

Asmodeus blinked. "You're serious."

Sylvalen nodded slowly. "It's the right choice. To strike before he's ready."

Lira's hands trembled slightly, but she steadied herself. "We'll go with you."

Isaac's eyes softened as he looked at them. "No. This part… I'll do alone. But you'll be ready for what comes next."

Asmodeus stepped close and placed a hand against his chest. "Then make him regret ever opening his eyes."

Chapter 228: The Throne of Wrath

The instant Isaac activated the teleportation array, a silver-edged rift opened in the air, humming with suppressed energy. He had embedded the coordinates into the weave of reality using the faint mana residue left behind by Satan's message scroll. Few would have thought to trace it. Fewer still could. But Isaac had followed the thread.

Through layers of dimensional fire, corrupted ley-lines, and ancient wards of sin.

It led to the lowest ring of the Abyss.

The Throne of Wrath.

He emerged into a world that burned without end.

The sky was black smoke. The earth bled magma. Rivers of fire carved through valleys of broken glass and iron bones. Ruined citadels littered the horizon like fallen monuments of rage.

Even the wind screamed in this place.

And yet, the flames parted gently around Isaac's steps.

He walked forward in silence.

The keep at the center of this world towered into the sky like a blade of fury—walls of obsidian fused with the bones of long-dead angels and gods. It pulsed with wrath-aspected mana so intense it warped the air itself.

The gates opened before he touched them.

As if the throne had already sensed its challenger.

Inside, the chamber was massive, cavernous, lit only by rivers of molten gold running beneath a floor carved from infernal obsidian. At the far end sat a monstrous throne of fused skulls and branded gold.

And seated upon it—

Satan, the Great Demon of Wrath.

Over three meters tall, armored in red-black plates, crowned with twin horns wreathed in flame. His eyes burned like collapsing suns. His presence crushed the space around him.

"You've come," Satan growled, rising slowly. "I expected fear. Not defiance."

Isaac didn't answer. Not immediately.

Instead, his eyes glowed with quiet focus.

[Soulpiercer Sight – Rank A] activated.

[Status – Satan, Great Demon of Wrath]

Level: 446

Strength: 41,240

Agility: 42,100

Endurance: 43,950

Intelligence: 40,980

Willpower: 40,600

Charisma: 39,870

Luck: ???

Class: Prime Sin Incarnate

Title: Wrathborne God-Devourer

Core Skill:

[Burning Sovereignty – Rank EX+]

Effect: Increases all base stats by ×50

Isaac's gaze was calm. Measured. He spoke without raising his voice.

"Impressive stats," he said. "You've gotten stronger."

Satan grinned, fangs bared. "Power is absolute. You could have wielded it. Instead, you threw it away."

"I didn't throw it away," Isaac replied. "I improved it."

The Throne rumbled beneath them as Satan stepped forward.

"You destroyed my blessing," he growled, voice layered with fury. "You spat on my gift. You erased a piece of me."

Isaac's eyes narrowed slightly. "No. I recycled it."

Satan snarled. "You should not exist."

"And yet here I am."

Flames erupted around the demon, coating the walls in living fire. Rivers of Wrath roared outside the keep, reacting to his fury.

"You are nothing but a trespasser," Satan boomed. "You will kneel. Or you will burn."

Isaac took a single step forward.

The fire pulled back.

"I won't kneel," he said. "And you won't burn me."

Satan's laughter cracked the air. "Do you know who I am? What I carry? My stats are fifty times amplified. I've devoured gods and chained entire races in rage. My dominion is eternal."

Isaac's eyes narrowed slightly. "And yet all that has only given you half of my power."

Satan's expression twisted—something flickered in his gaze. Disbelief. Rage. A sliver of doubt.

"You lie."

Isaac tilted his head. "Then come prove me wrong."

He raised his hand—not in threat, but in invitation.

"Let's end this."

Chapter 229: The Wrath of Kings

The world cracked.

Satan moved first—an eruption of rage, fire, and sheer physical might. His footfall shattered the obsidian floor, and in less than a breath, he closed the distance, a blazing gauntlet already arcing toward Isaac's skull.

But Isaac was gone.

The punch hit nothing but molten air.

Behind him, Isaac reappeared—calm, expression unreadable, eyes focused.

"Too slow," he said.

Satan roared.

The keep trembled.

Wrath surged.

Chains of flaming iron burst from beneath Satan's feet, twisting through the air like serpents, snapping toward Isaac from every direction. They moved with terrifying precision—each link enchanted, soulbound, and red-hot with fury.

Isaac didn't move.

The moment they struck—

[Phantom Legion – Rank EX] triggered.

Dozens of weapons blinked into existence in a circle around him—swords, spears, scythes, halberds—all spectral, all copied from weapons he'd once seen or wielded. They intercepted every chain in midair, clashing with explosive bursts of force and redirecting the momentum into harmless arcs.

The chains shattered one by one.

Satan charged again.

This time, faster. Stronger.

Every punch carried the weight of a mountain. The pressure of divine anger made the air scream. Any normal being would've been crushed in an instant.

But Isaac wasn't normal.

[Stat Rechannel – Rank EX] activated in real time—his Agility and Strength surged, reshaping mid-motion.

He ducked, stepped into the blind spot, and delivered a strike to Satan's ribs that cracked the throne room in half.

Satan staggered, coughing fire.

"You have power," Isaac admitted as the air rippled around them, "but no clarity."

"You DARE—"

Satan opened his mouth—and roared.

Not a sound. A force.

A dome of pure red light erupted outward: Wrathfield, the manifestation of his sin. Inside it, rage was a weapon, and every hostile emotion became a storm.

Isaac's body lit with runes as [Moonflame Rebirth – Rank EX+] automatically activated defensive protocols. The Wrathfield scorched lesser concepts—but Isaac's soulflame didn't burn.

It responded.

And answered.

A second aura burst outward—cool, white-blue and edged in moonlight.

[Genesis Bloom – Ω Rank] unfurled.

The entire throne room shifted. Healing light coated the walls. The molten rivers dimmed. The air, once fire, became tempered calm. Inside that light, Isaac stood radiant and inviolable.

Satan growled.

Isaac spoke quietly. "I told you. I won't kneel. And I won't burn."

Their powers clashed again.

This time, it was not speed. Not technique.

Force met force.

Each strike shattered walls, collapsed spires, sundered the very foundations of the Throne of Wrath.

Isaac fought without strain.

Each time Satan's fists crashed into him, he met them—not with brute strength, but precision, grace, and overwhelming stat control.

Satan had fifty times normal stats.

Isaac had more than that—and perfect control.

Finally, a moment came when Isaac's blade—an ephemeral weapon conjured through [Phantom Legion]—drove straight into Satan's chest, bypassing armor and rage alike.

Satan coughed blood, eyes burning wide.

"You…"

Isaac didn't follow up. Not yet.

He stood still, surrounded by moonlight and silver flame.

"This is what you call dominion?" he asked.

Satan bared his teeth.

"This is just the beginning."