I'm a Immortal Tavernkeeper, But My S-Rank Daughter Doesn't Know That!

The possibility of a cure was a bright hope on the horizon, but the dark risks could not be ignored. Still, he knew that in the worst-case scenario, he would end up coming back, and he saw no other option. His curse ate away at his mind whenever it worked, and if there was even the slightest chance of getting rid of it, he had to try.

"I accept," Victor said, his voice firm despite the fear growing inside him.

Mari breathed a sigh of relief and nodded. "Good. I’ll start synthesizing Noctiluria right away. It will be a delicate process, so you’ll have to wait. It’s dangerous to rush while I’m working."

Victor nodded and stepped back, leaving Mari to concentrate on her task. He watched as she began the preparations, moving with almost mechanical precision between the various pieces of equipment laid out on her workbench.

The room was silent, except for the soft sound of liquids being poured and equipment being adjusted. Victor could see the tension in Mari’s gaze, her eyes fixed on the minutiae of each step of the process. She had a lot of pressure on her shoulders. She handled the noctiluria with extreme care, as if it were the most precious and dangerous substance in the world.

"While you’re waiting," Mari said, not looking away from what she was doing, "there are some books on the shelf that might interest you. Some of them have information about other curses and their cures."

Victor thanked her with a murmur and walked over to the indicated shelf. He pulled out one of the old books; the leather covers worn by time, and settled into a nearby chair. He tried to concentrate on reading, but his thoughts kept returning to what Mari was doing.

Mari was still working, now adding drops of a yellowish liquid to a test tube containing the essence of Noctiluria. Her movements were delicate, almost as if she were performing surgery.

"The next step is crucial," Mari said, more to herself than to Victor. "If I add the catalyst too quickly, the mixture could destabilize."

Mari, though so young and ’only’ an inventor, was probably one of the best alchemists, but she could still make mistakes.

After nearly two hours, Mari finally stepped away from the bench, holding a small vial of iridescent liquid in her hand.

"It’s done," she said with a sigh of relief. "But before we make any decisions, we need to do a preliminary test."

"A test?" Victor approached, eyeing the bottle curiously.

"Yes. I need to check the stability of the potion to make sure there won’t be an immediate side effect. Let’s use a small amount in your blood first." Mari took a needle and a small pipette, took a drop of the shiny liquid and mixed it with a sample of Victor’s blood that she had taken that morning.

Victor watched as Mari analyzed the mixture under a magnifying glass. She seemed satisfied with what she saw and nodded to herself.

"Apparently it’s stable. Let’s move on to the next step." She prepared a syringe with a tiny dose of the potion and approached Victor. "I’m going to inject it directly into your bloodstream. If all goes well, there shouldn’t be any negative reaction. However, if there are any strange sensations, anything out of the ordinary, let me know immediately."

Victor sat back in his chair and took a deep breath, then held out his arm. He watched as Mari sterilized the area and then felt the needle prick. The cold liquid entered his veins the next moment and, for a moment, he felt a chill run through his body. He concentrated on his breathing and tried to stay calm.

"How do you feel?" asked Mari, her eyes fixed on Victor, after taking the tip of the needle.

Victor waited, feeling a slight tingling sensation that quickly disappeared. "I’m fine," he said, relieved.

"Good," Mari replied. "That’s a good sign. Now we have to wait a while to make sure there are no delayed reactions and..."

Mari turned to another of her benches, and at that moment Victor saw her back become more distant. Black edges appeared in his vision, and Victor blinked to make them disappear. He could see Mari, but her image wavered as if he was looking through a distorted glass. He tried to call her name, but the words wouldn’t come out. He felt a strange sensation in his chest, as if something was pulling him into a deep, unknown abyss. The last thing he saw was Mari turning around, her expression changing from concentration to astonishment as she realized something was wrong.

Then everything went black.

Victor was aware of absolute darkness all around him. There was no sound, no smell, no other sensation. It was as if he was floating in a void. Slowly he began to see a point of light in the distance, faint, but gradually growing in intensity. He felt drawn to that light and tried to reach it, moving without really feeling his body move.

Suddenly, he realized that the point was a hooded figure in the distance, the obscure silhouette standing out against the faint glow of the torches. He immediately remembered the figure he had seen a few times after his death.

The figure had its back to him, was wrapped in a long, dark cloak, and was walking alone, as if going somewhere.

"Who are you?" Victor shouted.

The figure looked back briefly, but its face was covered by a gigantic shadow. It didn’t answer, though, and continued to stroll away from Victor.

Victor felt a growing urgency within him. He needed answers. He needed to understand what this place was and what was going on.

"I said who are you!" Victor shouted.

The figure stopped and turned its head slightly to the side. Then a cold, echoing voice came from the hood, almost a whisper that spread through the room.

"You have developed more strength in this world than I expected, Victor Shieldman." The voice was distinctly female. "Who am I? A fascinating question. To you, I may be an ally or an enemy. That’s for you to decide. But generally speaking, I’m simply what everyone fears."

Victor frowned, puzzled and frustrated. "Stop with the riddles. Tell me who you are!"

The figure made a sound like a low chuckle, a sound that made the hairs on the back of Victor’s neck stand up. "I like your idea. A guessing game, then? Very well then. Let’s play. I am the shadow that follows every being. I am the silence at the end of life. I am the darkness where the light cannot reach." She continued walking.

Victor felt his heart squeeze. The figure’s words were beginning to make sense, but he didn’t want to believe what his instincts were telling him. "Are you... are you Death?"

"You can call me that if you like. But I prefer the other name."

"The other name?" Victor’s eyes widened. "Are you Gramorn, the God of Death?"

The figure nodded, and Victor felt a shiver run down his spine. Gramorn. The name echoed in his mind like distant thunder. The gods of this world were actively worshipped, they had churches, mausoleums and temples, and Gramorn wasn’t just Death. He was the personification of the end, the guardian of the threshold between life and the afterlife.

"Why are you here?" asked Victor, his voice shaking slightly.

Instead of answering, Gramorn stopped walking. "You ask a lot of questions, Victor Shieldman," she said, her voice cold and unrelenting. "And this last one almost insults me. ’Why does the God of Death walk in the realm between life and death?’ you ask."

Victor looked around, trying to make out something in the void. He still felt like he was floating, weightless, but now the surroundings seemed more oppressive, more real. There was nothing around him, absolutely nothing.

"Area between life and death?"

"Exactly. A place where few have the chance to be conscious."

"And why am I here?" asked Victor, feeling a mixture of fear and curiosity. "What is happening to me? Have I died again?" 𝐟𝕣𝗲𝕖𝕨𝗲𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝗲𝚕.𝗰𝚘𝐦

At that moment, Victor realized that he hadn’t felt the pain in his chest when he spoke of his death.

Gramorn turned her full attention to Victor, who could feel a distant presence emanating from her. "You have been chosen by me, Victor. Chosen for a fate few could bear. Isn’t this what you wanted? Isn’t this what you wanted for so long? The patronage of a god? I saw you when the other gods closed their eyes to you. I listened to you when no one else would, and I guided you through your countless battles. I have been by your side, letting you evolve little by little until you were ready to receive the most powerful ability I could give you."

Victor tried to process what Gramorn said. He was in shock.

"The return of death." Victor whispered.

Gramorn nodded. "How cunning..."

Then she turned and walked forward.

"However, I will not actively interfere with your fate or your decisions. I think it’s terrible when other gods do that to heroes. Many of you have died of nonsense. I don’t want to waste my herald."

"Herald? Wait, what am I to you? Why are you helping me?"

"Did I say herald? Oops! I meant servant." Gramorn said. "Victor Shieldman, help your daughter, but don’t you dare mention my name or the talents I’ve given you, or instead of your heart, it will be her heart that will stop."