In the past, Jason's physical strength had seemed laughably fragile in Hela's eyes—but now, after her reforging, he had reached the level of a sub-Father God.
His physique was now comparable to that of a Saint Seiya, a flawless, hexagonal warrior—no weaknesses, no blind spots.
Strength, speed, explosive force, flexibility, agility, coordination—every aspect had reached divine equilibrium.And most importantly, Jason no longer had a stamina limit.
His heart had been completely replaced with that of a Demon Lord, and after Hela's improvements, it could endlessly supply him with energy—a heart that would never stop beating, never stop producing power.
Even if that energy were exhausted, it would simply recharge itself.
His bones, muscle fibers, and skin had been reforged to monstrous density, granting him absurd endurance and destructive might.
Hela had even carved runic enchantments into every inch of his being—bones, muscles, heart, organs—each etched with divine patterns that formed two independent energy systems.
Both flowed and circulated within him, creating overlapping feedback loops.This dual-core structure allowed Jason to unleash bursts of power far beyond his normal level—instantly and violently.
And that wasn't all.
Hela, with her dominion over Death and mastery of Soul Laws, had preserved and strengthened Jason's original abilities.
He could still die.But every time he did, his body would vanish immediately, reforming either where he fell—or within the Hades Pool of Helheim.
That pool, built by Hela herself, was hardly a "pond."It was an ocean of pure death essence—the very same that Eastern myth called Huangquan, the Yellow Springs.
Each resurrection allowed Jason to connect with that ocean, drawing in immense death energy to restore and enhance himself.Every rebirth made his body stronger, his aura heavier, his power more terrifying.
In short—Hela had created an immortal warrior.
Leon sat on Hela's throne, watching with an expression halfway between amusement and disbelief.
"…So this is basically a twisted version of a Saiyan," he muttered.
Saiyans grew stronger after surviving fatal injuries.But this one? He grew stronger only after death.
Of course, every power had its limits.
Jason's growth came with conditions.To gain strength after death, he needed to die in battle against a true enemy—one he had personally marked in his heart as his "target."
Only then would the curse activate, allowing his body to evolve.
If he died for any other reason—say, suicide, or by Hela's or Leon's hands—he'd resurrect, yes, but his power would not increase.
Because to Jason, neither Hela nor Leon could ever be his "enemies."
In addition, each time Jason killed, the curse his mother left upon him flared.The curse fed on murder, amplifying itself, and in turn, it fueled his resurrection and growth.
A cruel, elegant cycle.
Kill → trigger curse → curse powers resurrection → resurrection triggers evolution → repeat.
Hela had amplified this system with her divine authority and added layer upon layer of enhancements.
And with the countless treasures and demonic organs she'd used as materials, the result was—this terrifying new Jason.
Leon could only sigh. "Hela really… knows how to play."
If Jason had been left to Yang or another Saint, Leon doubted anyone would've wasted so many divine resources just for the fun of "crafting a toy."
But since Hela was happy, Leon saw no reason to stop her.The treasury was full of rare materials collecting dust—Saints who practiced alchemy used them as expendable reagents anyway.
If Hela wanted to make an action figure, so be it.
So Leon simply waited. After all, he knew exactly what this new Jason was being made for.
She'd poured all this time and effort into him not out of sentiment—but because she had two particularly unlucky brothers she wanted to test him on.
Outside, Leon scrolled lazily through his phone, bored.(Yes, Helheim had perfect Wi-Fi. Don't ask how. Sanctuary scientists were mad geniuses.)
And then—
"HELA!"
The booming voice of Thor shattered the silence.
"I'M HERE TO CHALLENGE YOU!""COME OUT AND FIGHT ME!""WHAT'S WRONG, SCARED?"
Leon froze mid-scroll."…Seriously?"
Hela's expression darkened instantly.
Of all the things she expected, her oaf of a brother showing up to shout insults outside her palace wasn't one of them.
He had that kind of charm—the kind that made you want to punch him the second he opened his mouth.
Expression flat, she turned to Jason—who was still trembling from the overwhelming divine presence in the room.
"Go," she ordered coldly. "Kill them both."
Jason stiffened. But a servant's instinct left no room for hesitation.Nodding like a frightened chick, he marched toward the gates of the hall—each step radiating a mix of dread and grim determination.
Time to release his long-suppressed bloodlust.
As for Hela, she sighed dramatically, then turned with feigned fragility.
She threw herself into Leon's arms, her tone suddenly pitiful.
"This is Asgard," she said mournfully. "My brothers keep bullying me… poor, weak me…"
Leon blinked. Then, deadpan: "…Ah. Yes. Truly tragic."
His lack of enthusiasm earned him two sharp punches to the chest.
Tears glimmered in Hela's eyes as she demanded, "I want comfort."
Leon's expression twitched. "Comfort? You? You're really not afraid of dying, are you?"
He stood, releasing a faint surge of his Eighth Sense Cosmos—a divine power so vast it shook the room."Little Hela," he teased, "can you withstand twenty years of accumulated eighth-sense energy?"
Hela raised her chin defiantly.
"Hmph! I am the Goddess of Death! I will never retreat!"
The stubborn gleam in her eyes said it all.
Puffs or not, who cared? She'd take it head-on.Besides, after all these years, she still hadn't gotten pregnant—clearly, that was Leon's fault.
Leon grinned. "You really don't know when to quit. Fine then—let's see who gives in first."
And thus began a war of gods.
A war that would last a hundred days.
Boom!
Within the temple, divine energy erupted—waves of cosmos and death intertwining, shaking the pillars of Helheim itself.
Outside the castle, however, none of this could be felt.
Thor and Loki, standing at the gate with their usual sibling bickering, stopped when they saw the figure emerging from the shadows.
A tall, black-coated man wearing a distorted black mask, exuding pure malice and deathly aura, stepped into view.
They blinked in confusion.
"…Who the hell is that?"
(End of Chapter)
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