Extra's Death: I Am the Son of Hades novel Chapter 632

Chapter 632: Berserker’s Medium

Asmodea’s voice was steady, but there was an underlying tension that hadn’t been there earlier.

"For all of these reasons, Prince, I ask you not to awaken your dragon blood," she said. "It’s putting the cart before the horse."

Zagreus didn’t answer immediately.

He kept his gaze fixed on the moss-covered stone nearby. The jungle around them had quieted, as if even the insects were listening.

He let out a breath through his nose, not quite a sigh. His fingers flexed once before relaxing again.

"Alright."

Asmodea blinked. "Alright?"

"I’m not saying I agree," Zagreus said. "I’m saying I hear you."

She watched him for a long moment, but he didn’t say more. His eyes didn’t waver. After a few seconds, he added,

"I need time to think."

Asmodea hesitated, then gave a slight bow. "Of course."

"Leave, Asmodea."

She didn’t argue. She just turned and walked away, steps fading quickly into the thick foliage behind her.

When the last sound of her presence was gone, Zagreus stood still in the clearing.

He didn’t look up at the sky or down at the ground.

He simply stood there, lost in thought, as the wind pushed gently against the tree canopy.

A minute passed. Then another.

Finally, he raised his hand and called the demon.

"I need to know something," he said.

The demon tilted its bulbous head slightly, as if listening.

"How much strength do I have left... in the future?"

There was no immediate answer. The demon remained still, the tips of its tendrils hovering just above the grass.

"Don’t dodge the question. I need to know how much I can borrow."

"I cannot answer that," it said. "This is something I am forbidden to reveal."

Zagreus frowned.

"Why?"

"I apologize," the demon said, quieter this time. "But that is not something I can say. Not yet."

Zagreus didn’t push further.

He just stood there, watching the slow undulation of the demon’s limbs as they curled inward again.

...

Nameless Death POV

Nameless Death and Berserk moved through several Space-Time Prisons.

They finally stopped under the flickering stars.

"Where is the Ant?"

Berserker, who stood a few feet ahead, didn’t turn around. He just gave a small shrug, clearly unfazed.

"Did you not hear me?" Nameless Death asked. "We’re supposed to be working together. If you want me to help you, answer the question."

Berserker chuckled, amused.

"And I am working with you. But why should I tell you that?" He turned slightly, grinning. "You’re free to walk away if this partnership doesn’t suit you."

Nameless Death frowned.

Before he could speak, Berserker waved a hand lazily.

"Relax," he said. "I know you’re angry. And maybe I should prove my sincerity if I expect you to help me. So let’s do this. I won’t tell you where Karax is, but I’ll show you something else. Come."

He didn’t wait for a response.

He just started walking toward the broken pillars in the distance, feet stirring up pale dust from the white sand beneath them.

Nameless Death hesitated for only a second before limping after him.

The place was familiar.

Starry sky.

White sand.

Broken white pillars.

As they walked, Berserker spoke again. "You like it? I built this place. Or rather, I built it with some help."

"Help from who?"

"A Witch," Berserker said, tapping one of the old stones as they passed. "The Witch of Lust, actually. Well, technically it was the version of her from the future. She reincarnated into the past and gave me a hand."

Nameless Death looked sideways at him.

"Reincarnated into the past?"

"Yeah. Time always been a mess, since the Eternals acted up.

"Anyway, she told me these Space-Time prisons were upgraded versions of [Sky Barriers].

"The Sky Barriers were the prototypes she created at a planet she visited once before.

"Later we upgraded and turned them into something more useful. The Space-Time Prisons."

"Sky Barriers," Nameless Death repeated, frowning.

The name echoed oddly in his mind.

He didn’t press the issue though, knowing his memories were missing.

They kept walking, the sand crunching beneath their steps.

Berserker’s gaze flicked to Nameless Death’s leg.

"You’re still limping."

"I know."

"You can’t heal?"

"I can," Nameless Death replied. "But it’ll take time."

"How much time?"

"Two hundred to three hundred years. If I push it."

Barbatos’ attack had done a number on Nameless Death.

Berserker snorted. "Heal faster. You’ll die in our next battle otherwise. It’s coming in a thousand years."

Nameless Death stopped walking for a moment, turning toward him with an incredulous look. "We’re still doing that?"

Berserker grinned, unbothered. "Of course. If I get the chance to put the universe on the line for a good fight, I’ll take it. Besides, by then, your path should be half-formed. It’ll be exciting."

Nameless Death rolled his eyes.

"You won’t be able to do anything against me even then. You’ll barely reach Stage 4 Grade 2 Level 10 at best—"

"I’ll be Stage 4 Grade 5 Level 10."

Nameless Death’s brow rose.

"Peak Stage 4? In a thousand years? I thought we had one more fight after that. Shouldn’t that be when you are able to create a peak Stage 4 body?"

"Do you know how I can access my Cosmos?"

Berserker raised his hand, palm open in a lazy gesture.

"Stop. I’m not answering that."

"Why?"

"Because if I tell you," Berserker said with a short laugh, "you’ll just place all the Ashes in your Cosmos, then fight you can fight me and help your brother. Why would I help my enemy to defeat me?"

"Because it could help us save the universe."

"Yeah," Berserker said, eyes gleaming. "But I’m still going to fight you. I’m not going to help my enemy get stronger. I helped you before because you were weak, but that’s not the case anymore."

Nameless Death sighed.

He was starting to understand Berserker a little more now.

When it came to anything else—talking, sharing knowledge, even cooperation—he was straightforward. Sincere, even.

But the moment a battle entered the picture, something in him changed.

Rationality bent around the desire to fight.

He’d risk anything, even his life, if it meant securing a better battle.

He was a battle maniac, through and through.

’I guess it makes sense battle maniacs are called maniacs,’ Nameless Death thought.

He didn’t argue further.

"Fine," he said. "Then I’m going to build my Path. Don’t disturb me."

"I won’t."

Berserker gave a short wave, already walking away.

Nameless Death closed his eyes.

Then stepped into his own shadow.

The world inside was completely different.

The stark white sand and broken temples of the Space-Time Prison vanished.

Instead, he stood on soft green grass. The air here was calm, carrying the scent of fresh leaves and gentle wind.

He had created this place himself.

It wasn’t large, but it was peaceful.

There were hills and trees, strange flowers that pulsed faintly with mana, and a pale-blue sky overhead with two suns hovering near the edge of the horizon.

A sanctuary.

He walked forward quietly.

There was a lake at the center of the world. On its bank, beneath a large tree with drooping silver leaves, someone was sleeping.

Leonora.

She rested quietly, curled up beneath the tree.

Her breathing was slow and steady.

"Wake up. I know you are not sleeping."

She didn’t react.

Nameless Death clicked his tongue. The reason he had brought Leonora was simple.

’If Berserker won’t tell me how to access my Cosmos, then I just need to ask someone else.’

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