I Died and Became a Noble's Heir-Chapter 459: Power of the Soul Warden

The Voidweaver’s body came apart in chunks, legs severed, torso crushed, head dissolved by concentrated acid from six heads simultaneously. 𝑓𝓇𝘦ℯ𝘸𝘦𝑏𝓃𝑜𝘷ℯ𝑙.𝑐𝑜𝓂

The spider’s remains were scattered across the battlefield, chitin fragments mixing with Hydra blood and demon corpses.

[Bound Creature Defeated: Voidweaver]

[Regeneration initiating...]

[Estimated time: 4 minutes 37 seconds]

The notification appeared in Jack’s vision, but he didn’t react beyond a slight tilt of his head.

Bound creatures couldn’t truly die. Their souls were anchored to him through the Soul Link, and as long as he lived, they would eventually regenerate.

Inconvenient, but not a disaster.

The Hydra, however, seemed to recognize its victory. Several heads roared with triumph, the coordinated attack having restored some measure of morale despite their deteriorating situation.

But the celebration was short-lived.

The effort of that coordinated strike had cost the Hydra energy it couldn’t afford to spend. The thirty heads began sprouting five more almost immediately.

Not from new wounds, but from the body automatically regenerating damage it had sustained during the Voidweaver assault.

Thirty-five heads. The torso shrank further, now one-quarter its original size and looking skeletal beneath the forest of necks.

And the demons and minotaurs, completely unfazed by the Voidweaver’s temporary death, pressed their attack with the same methodical precision they’d shown throughout the battle.

Four minutes later, as the Hydra’s last reserves finally failed, its body ceased regenerating. It felt something heavy on its back.

Its eight eyes fixed on the now-helpless Hydra with what could only be described as vindictive satisfaction.

The spider chittered. A sound that somehow conveyed it was its turn.

New webs shot out, wrapping around the Hydra’s emaciated body with renewed aggression.

The Voidweaver climbed back onto its previous position atop the Hydra’s back, and this time, when it injected venom into the torso, the dose was triple what it had used before.

The Hydra’s thirty-five heads screamed, but there was no energy left to coordinate another miraculous counter-attack.

Pain, exhaustion, and the growing awareness that its victory over the spider had been temporary while its own defeat was permanent.

The last regeneration cycle completed.

Thirty-five heads sprouting from a torso that had shrunk to one-quarter its original size. The Hydra’s body looked skeletal beneath the forest of necks, scales hanging loose over visible ribs.

The creature was done. No energy left to regenerate. No strength left to fight.

Completely immobilized by Voidweaver’s webs and pinned beneath the combined weight of demons and minotaurs.

But still alive.

Still breathing in ragged gasps.

Still watching as Jack stood from his seat atop the corpse pile and began walking toward it.

The Hydra’s thirty-five heads tracked Jack’s approach, their eyes burning with hatred and exhaustion.

The central head tried to speak, but only managed a weak hiss.

Jack stopped five feet from the Hydra’s main body, Oscar held casually in his right hand. Red lightning crackled along the blade’s edge as he looked down at the defeated creature.

"You fought well," Jack said, his tone almost conversational. "Better than I expected, actually. That regeneration ability is impressive."

The central head’s eyes narrowed, pride wounded even in defeat.

"But regeneration has limits," Jack continued. "And I have patience. My army has numbers. Eventually, even the strongest creature runs out of energy."

He raised Oscar, the blade gleaming in the wasteland’s twilight.

"Time to end this."

The blade severed the central head cleanly.

The original consciousness that had coordinated all thirty-five minds. The head hit the ground with a wet thump, eyes already glazing.

The other thirty-four heads shrieked in unison as their coordination shattered. Without the central consciousness directing them, they devolved into panic.

Some trying to bite Jack, others attacking demons randomly, several even snapping at each other in confusion.

Jack stepped back and raised his left hand.

"Soul Bind."

The Chain of Soul Warden materialized, a single black strand glowing with red lightning as it pierced the dying central head.

The chain pulsed once, twice, then began spreading through the Hydra’s entire nervous system—following neural pathways, wrapping around the spinal column, connecting to each of the thirty-four remaining heads.

Jack ripped the chain back as the Hydra’s weakened frame constricted. With a sickening tear, he ripped out the spine, and the remaining heads collapsed lifelessly to the dirt.

[Soul Binding Initiated]

[Target: Hydra (Disaster-Class)]

[Status: dead]

[Binding Cost: 150,000 Death Tokens]

[Current Death Tokens: 45,197,250]

[Proceed with binding?]

[YES] or [NO]

’Yes’

[Purchase confirmed: 150,000 Death Tokens spent]

[Current Death Tokens: 45,047,250]

[Binding in progress...]

The transformation took thirty seconds. The creature’s emaciated body began regenerating.

Sslowly, pulling energy from the Soul Link rather than its own depleted reserves.

Within two minutes, the Hydra had restored itself to functional condition.

All thirty-five heads turned toward Jack simultaneously and bowed.

"Master," they spoke in perfect unison, thirty-five voices creating a harmonic that resonated across the wasteland.

Jack smiled and rested Oscar against his shoulder. "Good. Now..."

"...You’re making my job considerably more difficult, you know."

The voice came from everywhere and nowhere, carrying the weight of eons and the casual authority of someone who’d watched civilizations rise and fall like summer grass.

But the tone? Pure theatrical exasperation.

Jack didn’t turn around. He’d felt the presence arrive thirty seconds ago.

It was impossible to miss, like a black hole appearing in reality’s fabric, and it had chosen to finish the binding before acknowledging it.

The air itself seemed to darken as the figure materialized beside the bound Hydra.

He was impossibly tall, clad in armor that seemed forged from the nightmares of dying stars.

The metal was black as the void between worlds, shot through with crimson veins that pulsed like a heartbeat.

Massive pauldrons rose from his shoulders like the wings of fallen angels, and his helmet was wrought in the shape of a skull whose eye sockets burned with the light of collapsing suns.

"Death," Jack said conversationally, Oscar still resting against his shoulder. "A bit early for a social call, isn’t it?"

"Early? EARLY?" Death’s voice carried an edge of exaggerated offense. He gestured dramatically at nothing in particular. "Floor Three just got cleared! Do you have ANY idea how much cosmic paperwork that generates?"

The God of Death pulled a scroll from... somewhere. It materialized in his gauntleted hand and began to unroll.

And unroll.

And kept unrolling.

The parchment touched the ground and continued spilling out like an avalanche of paperwork, creating a growing pile that spread across the blood-soaked earth.

The scroll kept coming.

"Floor seal authorization forms," Death counted off, his skull-helmet somehow conveying profound annoyance despite having no face. "Respawn rate recalibration. Ecosystem balance adjustments. Territory redistribution protocols."

He peered at a section near the bottom of the still-unrolling scroll. "And one VERY long form about updating the floor registry because somebody..."

His burning eye sockets fixed on Jack. "...Decided to have their student speedrun the whole thing."

The scroll finally stopped unrolling. The pile of parchment was easily a hundred feet long, scattered across the battlefield in loops and coils like some administrative serpent.

Jack finally turned to face the deity, eyebrow raised behind his visor. "You came all the way to Floor Twenty-Three to complain about paperwork?"

"I came here," Death said, the crimson veins in his armor pulsing brighter, "because Floor Three needs to be sealed. And since you’re the one who trained the kid who cleared it..." His voice took on that theatrical growl.

"...I figured I’d deliver the news personally. You know, add a little ceremony to the occasion."

Jack’s smile widened behind his visor. "Floor Three’s ready to seal?"

Death snapped his fingers, and the scroll vanished as if it had never existed. "The floor’s ready whenever you want to make it official."

Death paused, crossing his arms in a pose that somehow made his skull helmet look skeptical.

"Kid did good work, by the way. Fifty days of training and he’s already solo-clearing Nightmare-rank entities. Takes after his teacher." The deity’s voice carried grudging respect alongside the sarcasm.

"You need to stop exaggerating. You’re the one who wanted me to seal all the floor. So this is making it happen faster." Jack said as he chuckled.