Chapter 365

Chapter 365: Death’s Pursuit Order

After witnessing the memory, Midi finally grasped the full picture.

The adventurers in his past life had sacrificed countless lives only to destroy a weakened prisoner trapped within the Sea of Clouds.

This time, through early conquest of the Star Ocean and various opportunities, Midi had luckily gained Rot’s aid.

Though the ordeal remained perilous, facing both the giant octopus and demon viscount without Rot would’ve been hopeless.

The Midi of his previous life hadn’t risen to become a Higher-up yet—his vision limited, his understanding superficial.

Now, he finally glimpsed the truth behind the curtain.

"Now that you’ve broken free from the Second Apostle ‘Tearful Eyes’ Helder’s control, what’s next?" Midi asked the psychic-energy manifestation of Rot.

Fina and Alice turned their gazes toward them. To these women, Apostles were legendary beings—even the former Ninth Apostle, King Bacal of the Tyrant Dragon, existed only in stories. Yet here stood the Eighth Apostle himself.

Though his physical form had been destroyed, Rot’s will remained intact. For power-seeking practitioners, such a supreme existence proved irresistibly fascinating.

"My goal is simple yet challenging: reincarnation," Rot stated plainly. "I’ll forge a new body, regain my strength as a supreme expert, then settle matters with that Second Apostle."

_Reincarnation._

Though he’d suspected this, hearing it confirmed stirred Midi’s thoughts. While "reincarnation" differed from "rebirth"—the former involving body replacement, the latter altering time itself—Rot’s declaration revealed one truth: Death couldn’t truly bind an Apostle. These beings had transcended mortality.

Midi briefly wondered if his own rebirth connected to such supreme powers. Countless possibilities raced through his mind before he refocused.

"Supreme experts truly surpass ordinary logic," Midi said carefully. "Though I don’t presume we could assist someone of your stature…" His words held polite humility—without Rot, they’d have perished. Yet he secretly hoped to glean reincarnation insights.

Rot’s reply shocked him.

"I urgently require your help, Midi Asreks—heir to the Sea Emperor’s legacy."

"_Me?_" Midi blinked. A mere level 60 practitioner, not even second-awakened—what aid could he provide?

"This century-long seal proved catastrophic," Rot admitted, tentacles drooping. "My preparations lay in the Demon Realm’s seas. I never imagined Helder could breach spatial barriers to trap me here."

"So you’ve no resources here?" Fina interjected.

"Building the Mind Maze alone took ages. That it helped select you to free me was miraculous. Reacquiring reincarnation resources in this state would take eons." Rot’s tone turned sly. "Thus, we must help each other."

Mutual Assistance?

Midi frowned slightly. In the next moment, he sensed something foreign within his body.

The Spirit Dragon Sword, which should have remained pristine, now carried a shadowy haze.

The haze resembled faint, ethereal dust clinging to the sword edge. At first glance, it seemed illusory, like a mirage—but upon closer inspection, it clung stubbornly to the blade.

Worse, Midi swore he caught the acrid scent of sulfur from the Demon Realm.

As Midi noticed the anomaly, Fina and Alice’s expressions shifted simultaneously.

The trio typically faced calamity with unflinching calmness, even in the face of death. Yet now, with the demon viscount already slain, this invisible intrusion left them unsettled.

“This is Death’s Pursuit Order,” Rot interjected at the perfect moment.

“Death’s Pursuit Order!” Midi’s face darkened.

In his past life, after his second awakening during the peak war between humans, heavens, and the Demon Realm, Midi had heard tales of this curse. Those marked by it—regardless of level, faction strength, or experience—were inevitably hunted down by Demon Realm assassins. Their bodies vanished, dragged into the abyss.

At level 85, Midi might have stood a chance. But now, at level 60? Fina and Alice were merely level 55. Surviving a demon viscount had been grueling enough. How could they withstand high-ranking demons like Counts, Marquises, or even a Grand Duke?

After Midi summarized the threat, both women grasped the gravity.

“Interesting. A human from Arad knows of Death’s Pursuit Order,” Rot remarked, mildly surprised. “Saves me the trouble of explaining.”

“What do you mean by ‘mutual assistance’?” Midi pressed.

“Death’s Pursuit Order isn’t a skill or curse. Think of it as… a tracking bullet. An indelible mark,” Rot explained. Though Midi understood the basics, his knowledge came from hearsay and speculation. Having never met a marked prey in his past life, he lacked true insight. Rot, however, as the Eighth Apostle, knew its workings intimately.

“That demon viscount carried a magical rune from the Second Apostle. When ‘Golden Forgiveness’ killed him, he detonated it instead—releasing hellfire upon you,” Rot continued. The implication was clear: the hellfire had branded their souls. A mere wisp of an Apostle’s power was an immovable mountain to level 60 practitioners. Even Rot, in his weakened state, couldn’t suppress it.

“You’re safe for now. The mark’s too weak to cross space barriers. But eventually, the Second Apostle Helder will uncover everything that transpired here on the Behemoth,” Rot added grimly.

“Will she retaliate? For taking Star Ocean, freeing you, killing her underlings…” Fina’s brow furrowed. An Apostle’s attention would ruin any plans to claim this place for the Hawk Brigade.

“Apostles care little for such trifles. My escape alone might irritate her.” Rot’s gaze swept over them. “Your true peril lies in the Holy Blood you carry. Its value could drive the entire Demon Realm mad—enough to make Helder, or any ambitious Apostle, hunt you personally.”

Rot’s ruthless declaration struck Midi like a thunderclap.