I Died and Received an SSS-Rank Unique Ability-Chapter 85: Elixir

"Feels empty," Vale noted as he descended with the group.

After making sure everyone had safely made it off the Dragon’s back, he dismissed the Spirit. The creature vanished into thin air, leaving behind only a faint shimmer of mana.

The group made their way through the castle gates and toward the main entrance. Nobody stood outside. An unusual sight—but considering how many people had recently died, perhaps staying indoors felt like the safer option.

Before long, they were inside the castle. The hallways stretched out before them, eerily quiet. Ezra called out the names of those who’d stayed behind, but no one answered.

A creeping unease settled in Vale’s chest. He kept walking, but each step sent a faint echo through the halls, as if the building itself was whispering warnings. His footsteps felt heavier with every passing second.

They wandered the castle for minutes that felt like hours, their pace slowed by dread, until finally they reached the throne room.

With a groan, they pushed the doors open.

Inside, the sight froze them in place.

Countless bodies lay sprawled across the marble floor. Lifeless, eyes still open. Many of them were familiar.

Vale’s heart dropped. His eyes darted from corpse to corpse, trying to process the horror. Then his gaze locked onto a single figure, seated casually atop the throne.

He wore black. Two horns jutted from his head. A cruel smile curled his lips, though his eyes remained cold and detached.

"Aamon," Vale breathed, stepping forward as disbelief dawned on him.

"I knew you’d make it," Aamon said, rising from the throne with slow, deliberate grace.

"What... What is this?!" Vale shouted, gesturing at the sea of corpses. His voice cracked with fury and grief. "What did you do?!"

"Ah, this—" Aamon began, but before he could finish, Ezra stepped forward.

With a roar, he activated his Unique Ability. A massive rock launched itself at the Demon, tearing through the air at terrifying speed.

It struck Aamon dead on. Dust exploded outward from the impact, obscuring the throne in a dense cloud.

But before the dust could even settle, Aamon reappeared, standing right next to Vale.

In his hand, he held something wet and red. A heart which was still beating.

Vale turned in horror. Ezra stood for a moment longer, stunned, before his chest gave way, revealing a gaping hole. His eyes widened in disbelief—then his body collapsed, lifeless, to the cold marble floor.

Silence fell inside the room.

Aamon tossed the heart aside like trash. "Please," he said with a sigh, "let’s not waste any more time. We have an elixir to make."

"Nooo!" Iris screamed.

She dropped to her knees beside Ezra, her fingers trembling as she shook him, trying desperately to wake him up. Tears spilled freely down her cheeks. "Get up! Please, get up!"

Aamon tilted his head at the display. He looked mildly inconvenienced but otherwise unfazed. He was about to speak again when something shifted in the air.

Everyone, including Vale, had summoned their weapons

Aamon raised an eyebrow. "You don’t honestly think you can kill me, do you?" he asked, sounding more amused than concerned. "Put those away. Let’s not ruin what we’ve worked so hard to accomplish."

He turned his back on them and walked calmly toward a table by the wall, where several ingredients were neatly arranged.

That’s when Vale saw them—dozens of mana crystals stacked among the tools and herbs.

His heart sank.

It all made sense now.

Aamon, catching the shift in Vale’s expression, grinned. "Yes," he said. "We need mana crystals to create the Elixir. You don’t think I’d go through the effort of killing all those meaningless creatures," he gestured casually to the corpses, "if it wasn’t necessary, do you?"

Fury boiled inside Vale. His grip on his sword tightened until his knuckles turned white. He wanted nothing more than to kill the Demon where he stood—but he knew the cost. This was the price of their deal.

Wordlessly, he stepped forward and handed Aamon the final ingredient.

Dark red particles shimmered into the air as the Demon began the ritual. A quiet hum filled the room as magic danced between the materials.

The group stood in heavy silence, watching.

Until Iris stood up.

Her eyes were still wet, but her expression had changed. She marched toward Vale, trembling with rage.

"This is all your fault!" she screamed, slamming her fists into his chest. "He’s dead because of you!" 𝕗𝗿𝕖𝐞𝐰𝗲𝕓𝐧𝕠𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝐨𝚖

Dain and Ayla rushed to stop her, but not before she landed a solid punch to Vale’s face. He didn’t move. Didn’t block it.

He saw the strike coming—but let it happen. He himself wasn’t sure why.

"Done," Aamon’s voice rang out.

Everyone turned to see him holding a small ampoule filled with shimmering golden liquid. Without hesitation, he opened it and drank half.

The moment the Elixir touched his tongue, the air shifted.

A surge of mana essence swirled around the room, then snapped inward. The power condensed into Aamon’s abdomen, then into his shattered core.

Vale could feel it. His presence, his aura—it grew stronger with each passing second. The weight of it pressed down on them like a storm.

Aamon dropped to one knee under the pressure of the Elixir, before he finally got up. He now stood taller, more radiant, and far more terrifying than before.

He stepped forward, and with every movement, the air rippled with power.

Vale’s mind raced. He started to question whether he was going to kill them.

Instead, Aamon smiled.

"I knew you wouldn’t disappoint," he said. "Come. Let’s fix that tree of yours. I’m a man of my word, after all."

He turned and began walking.

No one followed at first. Even Iris stood still, sobbing quietly over Ezra’s body. But eventually, she rose, and they all followed after the Demon.

They caught up to Aamon just before the Tree of Life.

Without delay, he poured the remaining Elixir over the trunk.

The corrupted bark hissed and began to flake away. Life returned to the ancient tree as golden light surged through its veins.

Small fruits began to bud on the branches. They grew, swelling with life, until the tree stood as vibrant and whole as Vale remembered from his first trial.

Aamon turned, walking toward them, then stopped right in front of Vale.

"Didn’t I tell you?" he said softly, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Good luck with your ventures in the other world. Perhaps we’ll meet again."

"Perhaps," Vale replied, voice low.

And with that, the Demon walked away, his silhouette fading into the distance.

The group stood before the Tree of Life, staring silently as they watched its fruits ripen before their eyes.