Xenon sat on a rough wooden slab, lost in his own mind.
Just yesterday, he had been nothing more than a desperate man who joined the Red Axe Bandits simply to survive. He didn't care if the work was dirty or cruel—survival was his only priority.
Earlier that morning, while trekking through the forest, his group stumbled upon a hidden cave. Inside lay the tomb of a fallen expert, filled with treasures and gold far beyond their imagination. On the way back, however, they encountered a pack of wolves.
As the newest member of the group, worthless in their eyes, Xenon was chosen as bait. It was also a convenient way to reduce the number of people who would share the treasure.
They threw him into the midst of the snarling wolves. He was torn apart, ripped to shreds until death embraced him.
But in that moment of brutal end, something awakened within him.
He was granted a terrifying ability—1,000 lives.
Whenever he died, he would instantly respawn nearby, his age reset to eighteen. And with each resurrection, his strength, skills, and experience would carry over. If he lived to sixty, with decades of training and battle behind him, his next rebirth at eighteen would retain all of it.
And he could do this a thousand times.
Another gift came with it: he no longer felt pain from fatal injuries. Death would be painless, freeing him from fear and madness.
Xenon smiled bitterly. "Damn this cruel world. This fucking world. Now it's my time."
He rose to his feet and walked toward the Red Axe Bandit base.
Inside the base, at the center table sat a burly, bearded man in his forties—Jason, leader of the Red Axe Bandits.
Right now, he was grinning from ear to ear. The group had struck it rich.
Their haul from the tomb dwarfed everything they had ever stolen in years of raiding caravans.
"Look at this—two hundred and ninety gold coins!" one bandit shouted, eyes wide with greed.
One hundred bronze coins equaled one silver, and one hundred silver made a single gold coin. A poor peasant family might never touch a gold coin in their entire lives. The wealth on the table was beyond measure.
Jason's expression grew thoughtful. The Red Axe Bandits had become infamous across City of Daglon, hunted by bounty hunters at every turn.
"After we divide the treasure, we'll disband," Jason declared firmly.
The men were shocked, but none opposed him. With this much wealth, each of them could live lavishly for the rest of their lives. Why risk more raids? This was the perfect ending.
Jason rubbed his hands in excitement. In his mind, he already saw the future: a mansion, endless women, and the life of a king.
Creak!
The old wooden door opened, and everyone turned.
Xenon stepped inside.
"What?! You… brat! Weren't you torn apart by wolves? How the hell are you still alive?" gasped the guard nearest the door—one of the men who had watched Xenon's supposed death.
"As you can see," Xenon said coldly, "I'm alive. But you… won't be."
Before the man could react, Xenon's hidden dagger slashed his throat. Blood sprayed, and the man collapsed lifeless to the floor.
The room froze. Dozens of wide eyes locked onto Xenon in shock.
"Bastard! Kill him!" Jason roared, slamming the table.
The bandits unsheathed their swords and axes, rushing at Xenon in fury.
"Nine left," Xenon muttered.
Excluding himself as a mere newcomer, there had been ten true members of the Red Axe Bandits. Now, one lay dead.
Gripping his dagger tightly, Xenon charged straight at them.
"This fool's running toward us instead of escaping!" one bandit cursed, raising his axe.
But three of the men who had been with Xenon earlier felt sweat run down their backs. They had seen him die. Could this be a ghost?
Xenon leapt, dagger plunging into the chest of an axeman. The man screamed, blood gushing. At the same moment, the axe swung down at Xenon. He blocked with his bare hand.
His palm was sliced off instantly—but his body remained intact.
No pain… Xenon grinned wildly. His guess was right. He could fight without fear. He could die without hesitation.
"Eight left!" he laughed, madness in his voice as he ripped the dagger free and lunged at the next foe.
A sword arced toward his neck. In the next instant, his vision spun upside down.
His head flew off.
[You have 999 lives left. Resurrecting in 3… 2… 1…]
"Hah! He's finally dead!" one bandit sighed in relief.
But then someone shouted, "Wait—his body! It's gone!"
Where Xenon's corpse should have been, there was nothing but blood.
Schlkk!
Jason gasped, eyes wide. He tried to speak, but only blood bubbled from his throat. A dagger was lodged deep, and behind him stood Xenon—alive once more.
The world dimmed for Jason as he collapsed.
"Who said I'm dead?" Xenon smirked. "The fun is just going to get started"
His body was whole again, his hand restored, his strength at its peak.