I Died and Received an SSS-Rank Unique Ability-Chapter 77: Back To The Present

"I see," Ayla said softly.

Vale had just finished explaining everything that had happened—most importantly, how to fix the tree so they could finally return to the world of the living.

Ezra and Iris had joined midway through the story, drawn in almost immediately. They now sat quietly on the wooden chairs inside the large tent, their eyes fixed on Vale as he spoke.

A heavy silence settled over them when he finished. Everyone seemed lost in thought—everyone except Vale, who calmly studied the faces of his companions.

"They haven’t changed much," he noted silently. They looked almost the same as the last time he’d seen them. A few new scars, maybe—but nothing that stood out.

"How are the casualties?" Ayla finally asked, turning toward Ezra.

A shadow crossed his face, and he took a breath before answering.

"Including Iris and me, five Awakened survived on our side. Twelve on the Castle’s."

To Vale, the numbers didn’t mean much—he had only just arrived and wasn’t sure how many Awakened there were to begin with. But judging by the grim looks on everyone’s faces, it was clear the losses were severe.

Twenty-one Awakened.

In the world of the living, the deaths of so many would bring a kingdom to its knees. Here, in the Demon Realm, they’d be forgotten before the next sunrise—that was the cruel reality of this place.

"And the Dormant soldiers?" Ayla asked, her voice low, perhaps hoping for a sliver of good news.

Ezra didn’t speak right away.

But his expression was enough to guess the answer.

"Thirty-one," he said at last, "Thirty-one dead in total,"

"Fifty-two people..." Ayla whispered.

The lives of fifty-two people in total were distinguished in the battle of Dark Castle, a battle which should’ve never taken place if those in power hadn’t become corrupted.

A suffocating silence fell inside the tent.

But before it could take root, Vale cut through it like a blade.

"Most Dormant soldiers will be useless against the Centurion. What’s the state of the Awakened? When’s the earliest we can leave?"

A surprised expression flashed across Ezra’s face.

"Uhm... Most should be battle-ready in about a week."

Vale nodded.

"Then we leave in a week. The journey itself should take about two weeks, if the weather stays good. That gives us time to prepare. In the meantime, gather all Dormant soldiers and identify those with abilities that might work against a single, powerful enemy—especially anything that counters ice or cold. The rest will stay behind. We don’t need dead weight."

Ayla hesitated for a moment, then finally spoke.

"Are you sure we can defeat the Centurion? Even wounded, a Demon shouldn’t have trouble tearing through an ordinary monster." The concern was clear in her eyes. "And are you sure we should trust a word of a Demon?"

Vale didn’t answer immediately.

He had once wondered the same. But Aamon had gone to great lengths to make him stronger—strong enough to face the Centurion. If the Demon hadn’t believed there was a chance of victory, he wouldn’t have sent him. Of that, Vale was certain.

"This is the only choice we have," he said at last, his voice steady.

Silence once again settled over the tent.

No one could argue with that cold truth. Killing the Centurion and helping the Demon complete the elixir was their only way out of the Demon Realm. Trees of Life were rare—hope of finding another was delusion. The tree was here. All that remained was to carry out Aamon’s plan.

Finally, after a few quiet moments, Ezra stood up.

"I should tell the others what’s happening... They could use a little hope."

A perplexed expression crossed his face. He was young—too young to bear the weight of leading so many. But that was true for all of them. None were trained leaders. None had the experience. And yet, they had no choice but to lead.

Ezra turned and left the tent. Iris rose a moment later and followed after him, offering the rest a gentle nod before she disappeared outside.

The core group remained, just as they had been. A few exchanged glances, tension still lingering in the air. But it faded slightly when Dain finally broke the silence.

"We shouldn’t waste time," he said, rising to his feet. "Let’s start preparations now."

"Preparations?" Vale echoed, raising an eyebrow, uncertain what the massive student had in mind.

But he didn’t have to wonder for long.

Minutes later, Vale stood across from Dain in a forgotten chamber deep within the castle.

The room was wide, with vaulted ceilings lost in shadow, and no windows—just the soft, cold glow of torches stretching across the walls. The stone floor bore deep cracks and scarring, remnants of countless battles. Chunks of dark brick had broken loose from the walls, some embedded with dried blood or scorched black from abilities. The air was cold and still—it carried the distant scent of steel and smoke.

Whatever Dain had in mind for "preparations" was clear now.

He intended to spar with Vale—the one who had been honed by a Demon to face the challenge ahead of them.

Vale let out a slow breath as he summoned his weapon, the familiar weight of it grounding him.

Truthfully, he agreed—this was the best way for the others to prepare. With just a week remaining, there was no time to venture out and hunt monsters. Any meaningful preparation would have to happen within these stone walls. And if there was a target worth testing themselves against, it was him.

But to Vale, this wasn’t just about training. He had something more he wanted to achieve.

Images from his last sparring match with Dain flashed across his mind. Back then, he’d been overconfident. He saw a clear path to victory and underestimated the massive student’s raw strength and ability. That mistake cost him a loss.

But things were different now.

He had ranked up his core—not once, but twice. His unique ability had evolved. He now carried not only a relic, but two bonded spirits at his side.

A grin spread across his face as he lowered his stance, the dark weapon pulsing with quiet surge of mana in his hands.

"Ready?" Vale asked, eyes locked on Dain.

Without a word, the massive student lunged forward, a wild grin splitting across his face. His silver gauntlet sliced through the air with terrifying speed—a blur of steel and raw force came hurtling straight toward Vale.