Levi didn't move.
He stood where he was, eyes fixed on the robed figure.
This thing had conceded far too quickly. Anyone who could guard a place like this for ten thousand years wouldn't be without a backup plan.
The robed figure spoke, "You're stronger than me."
It raised a hand and pointed toward the top of the altar.
"But the Dark Trident isn't something just anyone can use."
Levi raised a brow. "Go on."
"The one who forged this weapon was the first King of Atlantis. He poured all his understanding of the Death Law into this divine artifact."
The robed figure's voice lowered.
"Want to use it? First, endure the corrosion of the Death Law. Your soul will be devoured bit by bit until you become nourishment for the trident."
Levi listened, expression calm.
A strange tone crept into the robed figure's voice—something like anticipation, or perhaps pity.
"In ten thousand years, thirteen have made it here. Some at your level, some even stronger—every tier you can imagine."
It paused.
"They all died. Their souls are trapped within the trident, never to escape."
Levi tilted his head slightly, listening.
There were sounds.
Faint wails echoed from deep within the altar, as if carried from some distant abyss. The voices were filled with pain, despair, and regret—enough to send chills down one's spine.
"Are you sure you still want it?" the robed figure asked, a hint of eerie excitement in its voice.
Levi's face remained expressionless. "Finished?"
The robed figure froze.
"…Finished."
"Then shut up."
Levi stepped onto the stairs.
He didn't care about any so-called corrosion. He already possessed the Death Law copied from Hela. The trident's version might be stronger, purer—but that was all.
For others, it was poison.
For him, it was nourishment.
Step by step, Levi ascended.
Thirteen steps, each two meters high. He reached the top in just a few strides.
Ancient symbols and carvings covered the steps, recording the trident's history and the fates of its users. Some depicted people being devoured by the trident, turning into black mist.
Others were warnings—telling future generations never to touch this cursed weapon.
Levi didn't even glance at them.
Standing atop the altar, the trident was right before him.
Up close, it was larger than expected. The shaft measured two and a half meters, entirely black, made of an unknown material. Dark red patterns flowed across its surface like congealed blood. At times, those patterns twisted into faces; at others, into grotesque shapes—like something alive.
The three prongs formed a triangular arrangement, each as thick as an adult's arm. Black flames flickered at their tips—not hot, but exuding extreme danger. Just standing nearby, Levi could feel an invisible pressure, as if something was trying to tear his soul apart.
The air around the altar had frozen. The temperature had dropped below zero at some point; even his breath crystallized into frost.
Levi reached out and grasped the shaft.
The moment his fingers made contact—
A massive torrent of information flooded his mind.
The complete understanding of death from a supreme expert. Countless years of battle and contemplation. A full pathway from rules to concepts.
These insights surged like a tidal wave, carrying endless killing intent and the aura of death, slamming directly into Levi's consciousness.
The sheer volume was overwhelming—like cramming an entire library into his head through a high-pressure hose.
His mind blanked.
His vision blurred. His ears rang. Even his breathing stopped. He could feel his brain overloading, neurons firing at extreme speeds, desperately trying to process the data.
At the same time, the trident struck back.
The black flames surged, crawling up his arm. Wherever they passed, his skin turned pale, blood seemed to drain from his veins, and his life force was rapidly consumed.
Even the formidable defense of his Kryptonian body was useless. The laws governing physical durability couldn't stop it. The Death Law acted directly on the essence of life.
The Dark Trident would actively devour its wielder's life force and soul—until nothing remained.
Levi's right arm had already turned corpse-white, like something dead for days. The black flames continued spreading, climbing to his shoulder, moving toward his chest.
He didn't let go.
The Time Law within him activated automatically, continuously replenishing the life force being devoured.
His Celestial-derived lifeform, copied from Ego, made his life essence far beyond ordinary beings.
As long as his core remained intact, his vitality was nearly limitless. Golden life energy surged through him, clashing against the black flames.
No matter how fast the trident devoured, it couldn't outpace his regeneration.
The two forces entered a stalemate.
His arm flickered between black and gold, intricate patterns surfacing on his skin—the visible traces of Life and Death Laws clashing within him.
Below, the robed figure watched, its voice tinged with schadenfreude.
"I warned you. It's too late to regret now. You'll end up like the thirteen fools before you—completely devoured."
It paused, then added:
"Though I must admit, you've lasted longer than expected. The others collapsed within three seconds. You've held on for nearly a minute."
Levi ignored it.
He closed his eyes, focusing on the flood of knowledge.
This wasn't text or imagery—it was pure comprehension of laws.
How to elevate death from phenomenon to rule.
From rule to concept.
How to make death an absolute existence.
Each fragment contained countless years of battle experience and thought—immeasurable value.
This was the legacy of Atlantis's first king.
An ancient being who had lived for untold years, compressing all his knowledge into this weapon. He forged it with his soul and understanding—and left behind a cruel curse:
Anyone who sought to wield it must first endure all the suffering he had experienced in life.
Levi's consciousness began to sink.
The surroundings faded. The altar disappeared. The robed figure vanished. Only endless darkness remained.
His awareness was dragged into a special space—the inner world of the trident.
There, he saw a figure standing in the void.
A tall man in ancient armor, holding a trident.
His face was obscured by shadow, but his eyes burned like twin stars.
The armor bore countless marks of war—slashes, scorch marks, deep claw wounds. This was a king forged through endless battlefields.
"A living being?"
The man spoke, voice deep.
"Or just another one here to die?"
Levi said nothing. He observed.
This wasn't a living person—it was a remnant consciousness within the trident.
Like a spirit… but more advanced. Not a simple instinct or program, but a fragment retaining full personality and memory.
The man smiled.
"Calm, are you? Useless. Anyone who touches this weapon becomes part of it."
"You will be no different."
With a wave of his hand, thirteen figures appeared in the darkness.
Humans. Atlanteans. Even creatures of unknown races.
All frozen in their final moments—faces filled with terror and despair.
Some clutched their heads, as if enduring unbearable pain.
Some stared wide-eyed, their eyeballs nearly bursting from their sockets.
Others had their mouths stretched open in silent screams.
"See? These are your predecessors. Their souls are now part of the trident."
The man stepped closer. Levi finally saw his face—weathered, scarred, marked by time. But his eyes were the most striking: bottomless, as if they could see through everything.
"You will be the fourteenth."
Levi finally spoke.
"I don't think so."
The man paused.
"Interesting." He stopped. "What makes you so confident? Law-level power? Or those chaotic abilities inside you?"
He continued:
"I can sense many powers within you—time, space, strength, reality… powerful, but scattered. You have no core. You're like loose sand."
"In that state, you cannot resist the trident's corrosion."
Levi didn't answer.
Instead, the Death Law within him began to circulate.
Hela's divine death power.
The Power Stone's Law of Strength.
The Reality Stone's distortion.
Three forces activated simultaneously, weaving into a complex network—not for defense, but for absorption.
The deathly corrosion from the trident slammed into the network—
—and was absorbed.
Not resisted. Not blocked.
Absorbed.
Levi's Death Law behaved like a starving beast, devouring the trident's energy. What was meant to erode him instead became his nourishment.
The man's expression changed.
"You—"
Shock filled his eyes.
"You possess the Death Law as well? No… more than that—you've integrated it into your entire system?"
Levi opened his eyes. "Not just death."
At that moment, six colors of light erupted from his body.
Blue—Space.
Red—Reality.
Purple—Strength.
Orange—Soul.
Green—Time.
Yellow—Mind.
Six laws operated simultaneously, forming a massive energy field around him. They weren't isolated—they interconnected, reinforced, and transformed into one another, forming a complete system.
The man inhaled sharply.
"How did you do this?"
He had lived for countless years, seen countless powerhouses—but never someone like Levi.
Ordinarily, mastering one law was extraordinary. Two made a genius. Three—a monster.
Six?
That defied all reason.
Worse still, Levi hadn't merely mastered them—he had integrated them. Not a simple stacking, but a system where each law supported and cycled into the others, forming near perfection.
"No wonder you dared take the trident," the man said, voice low. "You're not here to gain power—you're here to perfect your system."
Levi nodded. "At least you're perceptive."
The Death Law within him began wildly devouring the trident's energy. What once corroded others now became fuel for his growth.
Hela's Death Law was just a foundation.
The trident contained the true essence.
Levi could feel his understanding of death rapidly evolving.
What is death?
Not the end of life.
Not the disappearance of existence.
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