Chapter 51: Dead ... Again

The room was vast but dim, the kind of gloom that settled into your bones and stayed there. Dust motes floated lazily in the thin slivers of pale light that crept through tall, narrow windows caked with grime. Shelves lined every wall, crammed with hourglasses of every size—some nearly empty, others so full of sand they looked ready to burst. A few had stopped entirely, their glass cracked, the sand frozen mid-fall. The stone floor was worn smooth by centuries of footsteps that had left no prints. In the center of it all stood a simple wooden desk, cluttered with scrolls and a single flickering candle that barely illuminated the space.

Death stood at the window, his back to the room. His skeletal form was silhouetted against the pale glow filtering through the grime, one bony hand resting on the sill. He stood unnaturally still. Outside, beyond the glass, shapes moved in the mist—figures that drifted and dissolved before they could be fully seen. A vast plain stretched into infinity, dotted with countless souls making their slow, patient journey toward a horizon that never seemed to get any closer.

James stood across from him, arms crossed, still catching his breath from the journey here. He wasn’t entirely sure how he had gotten here. As he shifted his weight, he noticed something strange: his feet made no sound on the stone, and the thick dust on the floor remained completely undisturbed. It was as if he weren’t truly there at all—just an image of himself moving while his mind insisted he had a solid body. He wondered, not for the first time, if he was the only visitor Death ever got in this forgotten place.

“Did I die?” James asked. He looked down and saw that his body was unmarked from the dragon’s fire.

“That will be determined. You need to make a decision,” Death added.

“What?”

“You have choices, so sit down, and we will discuss them.”

James sat in the sole guest chair. Even as he lowered himself, the chair didn’t creak, and no dust stirred around him. The illusion of presence felt strangely complete, yet hollow.

“Go ahead. You will need it.”

“Thanks. Why am I here?” James asked. He opened the bottle and looked at the label—a Guinness from Earth.

“When you first arrived, you were unique, a true zero. There was a lot of betting on you—would you survive? Prosper? Fail? End up a zero? What challenges would you encounter? Every facet of your life on Isekai was a betting opportunity.”

“The gods bet?”

“James, that is one of the major pastimes.”

“I am amazed. What do they bet for?”

“A multitude of things. Money, rare artifacts, promises of future favors, expansion of territory or dominion. If something thinks it has value, then it can be wagered. I had faith in you, and I have won spectacularly. Which is why you are here.”

“I am confused. Was my life manipulated to sway the odds?”

“NO! If a god cheats, then no one would take their bets. Among immortals, the label of oath breaker or cheat is the kiss of death, so to speak,” Death said, while laughing. “Everything that happened to you is from your own efforts.”

James took a drink and looked at the bottle again. It had been decades since he had tasted the beer. It was cold, tart, and nipped at his mouth. “Why this one?”

“I thought you would like to have a reminder of your first life.”

“What happens now?” James asked.

“Now I give you your choices, and you make a decision. The first option is that you return to your body on Earth and then die, to be awakened for judgment. The second option is to return to the fight you just left. And the final option is to die and move on after judgment.”

“None of those are attractive. If I restart, then I may not be granted a do-over. And if I am, can I avoid being seized by the slavers? Will I keep my memories?”

“Yes, the same way you kept the memories from your first life.”

“So I would be an eight-year-old battlemage? Is that possible?” James asked.

“If that is the path you choose. Or you could be a simple farmer,” Death noted.

“In essence. I would wipe out the last ten years.”

“And avoid many mistakes.”

“And many of the good experiences. I could take the safe path and avoid all of the pain of learning. I would know everything about the farm, Garrick’s family, Castletown, and the slavers.”

“Yes, you could start on your journey without wasting time to relearn the lessons of your time on Isekai.”

“This sounds too good to be true. What guarantee is there that I will be measured a zero and then placed at Garrick’s?”