The Hero's Return from the Afterlife

     The supreme commander of the Sovereign Vanguard had now arrived at the town square. His sharp eyes fixed upon the rampaging Salamandra Gigants, while his hands calmly tightened the iron gauntlets fitted over his fingers.

     Just as the magical shield barricade was on the verge of being breached by the monster, General Azeer shot forward in the blink of an eye. He planted his stance, drawing his body and right arm back at an angle before unleashing a full-powered blow—Bhamm!—the devastating punch instantly sent the colossal monster hurtling backward, its massive body scraping several meters across the ground.

    "General Azeer really is the best!" one of the soldiers behind the barricade cried out, a glimmer of hope returning to his eyes.

     "That's right! He's here!" another soldier beside him shouted.

    "Come on, everyone! Channel your magic back into the shields we're holding! Reinforce the defensive line right now!

     The soldiers who had moments ago been overwhelmed by deep despair now surged back to their feet with blazing determination the instant the supreme commander of the Sovereign Vanguard arrived.

          In the middle of the square, General Azeer remained fully prepared for battle, waiting for the S-Rank monster to rise from the rubble. At that very moment, two division captains hurried toward him from behind.

     "Reporting, sir!" Zen and John said in unison, snapping into a firm military salute.

     "We're sorry, sir, for failing to hold our position," Zen said, his head hanging heavily.

     "Yes, General. I apologize for my failure as well," John added, remorse etched across his face. "Even with full assistance from the Valiant Knight, we were still overwhelmed because the Salamandra Gigants has undergone an evolution completely beyond our comprehension, sir."

     General Azeer glanced at his two subordinates without ever lowering his guard. "Oh, don't worry about it. It's only natural for the monsters within a Catalyst Approach to evolve whenever one appears. Their patterns of emergence and attack have always remained the same throughout the ages," the general said in a firm yet reassuring tone.

     The imposing man rotated his armored wrist before fixing his sharp gaze forward. "The real question is, can the two of you still fight? If you can, then fight alongside me and wipe that damn monster out!"

     Hearing the supreme commander's direct challenge, his words instantly became fuel that burned away the last traces of exhaustion within Zen and John, giving them the strength to continue the battle.

     "Yes, sir! We're ready!" they answered in unison, their eyes blazing once more.

     "Good! Enough talking. That damn monster is already back on its feet! Attack!" the general commanded, his booming baritone tearing through the storm raging over Finchster's town square.

—

     "We finally made it back to our sanatorium," Grith said.

     "What now, Old Man Grith?" Alain asked.

     "Next, we proceed with the experiment just as we discussed. I'll cast the incantation, and you'll deliver the finishing touch," Grith replied.

     "Ah, got it. Then let's head to that room and check whether our people have prepared everything," Alain said.

     "Let's go," Grith replied curtly.

     A room drenched in luminous light exuded an ominous atmosphere. At its center, a brittle skeleton lay sprawled upon a bed. Elsewhere in the room, the alchemists and mages had prepared a strange apparatus and positioned it nearby.

     "Well? Is everything ready?" Alain asked the five subordinates who had just welcomed their arrival.

     "Yes, Professor. Everything is ready. We only need to proceed with the next step of the hero resurrection ritual," one of the masked alchemists replied, bowing respectfully.

     "Good work," Alain praised his subordinate. "Well then, Old Man, are you ready?" Alain asked, turning toward Grith.

     "Of course," Grith replied. "But wait a moment. I want to make sure my people are ready first."

     Grith turned toward his subordinates. "You four, are you ready to perform this ritual? You've memorized the incantation, right? All five of us must synchronize our chanting perfectly, or the resurrection will fail."

     "We four are ready to perform the resurrection ritual, Great Mage Grith," one of Grith's subordinates replied, his eyes focused with absolute conviction.

     "Good. Let's begin, Alain!" Grith shouted, his eyes blazing.

     "All right, Old Man. I'm standing by here," Alain replied as he took his position beside the mechanical instrument panel.

     The five mages now approached the hero's skeleton and surrounded it from five different directions, locking the altar into a perfectly symmetrical formation.

     "Let's begin the hero's resurrection," Grith commanded.

     The five of them focused completely, combining their ether energy as they chanted the forbidden spell in perfect unison.

     "Exsurge, spiritus in tenebris perdita..."

     A darkly luminous magic circle suddenly materialized beneath their feet and another directly above their heads. The radiance from the magic circles poured downward, illuminating the sacred skeleton of Hero Greg as it lay rigid upon the bed.

     "Vessel vacuum te ad raga revocat."

     A soul in the form of a mass of pure energy emerged through the magic circle before plunging sharply into the hollow chest cavity of the skeleton. The next instant, crimson roots resembling synthetic veins began crawling rapidly from the marrow, weaving themselves around and tightly binding the fragile bones until the entire skeletal structure was once again fused into a solid frame.

     "Stringite..."

      Once the entire skeletal structure had been completely enveloped by boiling red blood cells, the formation of its anatomy grew increasingly brutal. All of its internal organs began taking shape unnaturally; a new heart emerged and began beating violently, followed by a network of lungs, a mass of brain tissue within the skull, and layers of flesh intertwining with one another. Strands of blond hair rapidly sprouted from the scalp, and as the final touch, an outer layer of skin crawled rapidly across the entire mass of raw red flesh until not a single flaw remained.

     "Retexite nexum carnis et cruoris, dum redintegreris!"

      The skeleton that had once been nothing more than an empty frame had now been restored into the complete body of a handsome, fair-skinned man lying motionless upon the bed. Moments later, the radiance of the magic circles throughout the room gradually dimmed before vanishing completely, signaling the successful completion of the hero's resurrection ritual.

     Seeing the high-level resurrection magic proceed flawlessly, Alain and his subordinates were instantly stunned, holding their breath in awe.

     It worked. Only one final step remains, Alain thought, a satisfied smile curling across his face.

     "Phew, it's finally done," Grith muttered, wiping the beads of cold sweat from his furrowed brow. He turned toward his companion. "Now it's your turn, Alain."

     "All right, Old Man. Leave it to me."

     Alain and two of his subordinates immediately approached the bed and took hold of the equipment that had been prepared from the beginning. He picked up two mithril plates and concentrated his magic.

      Alain channeled pure electrical magic into the two mithril plates. When he rubbed them together, small blue electrical sparks crackled through the air. He rubbed them together once more with greater force, then immediately pressed the two electrically charged plates against the hero's chest.

     "How is it, Silvi? Any sign of a pulse?" Alain asked without taking his eyes off Greg's body.

      "Not yet, Professor," Silvi replied anxiously as she monitored the indicator needle.

      "All right. I'll try one more time!"

       Alain now poured a far greater amount of electrical magic into his hands until the two metal plates began vibrating violently. When he pressed the mithril plates against the broad chest before him once more—

      ZAAAPP!

      The hero's body jerked violently upward, tensing as the electrical shock from the two mithril plates coursed through him before he finally collapsed flat against the bed once more.

      "How about now? Is there a sign yet, Professor?" Alain asked.

      Hearing the steady heartbeat beginning to thrum from Greg's chest, the professor finally spoke.

      Alain breathed a sigh of relief. "Ah, good. That means I won't have to waste any more of my ether energy," he said, setting the metal apparatus back down. "You two, put some cloth clothes on him first. Don't dress him in his battle gear yet."

     "Yes, Professor," they replied promptly.

     After some time had passed, everyone inside the sanatorium stood silently in the stillness, waiting for the legendary hero to fully regain consciousness.

     Greg's eyes slowly opened. He winced slightly, blinking several times as the magical light illuminating the unfamiliar room dazzled his eyes. His body remained completely still as his sharp gaze shifted left and right, studying the unfamiliar people surrounding him.

     "Where am I?" he asked, his deep voice intimidating and strikingly firm.

     "Ah, you're awake, Hero Greg," Grith said, stepping closer with a friendly smile.

     "You're recovering here at the sanatorium," Alain added, doing his best to reassure the confused hero.

     Greg tried to move, slowly rising into an upright sitting position on the bed. Massaging his aching temple, the handsome man's eyes stared blankly at them. "I see... Then why am I here recovering in the first place?" he asked curiously.

     "Ah, well... You were gravely injured while carrying out your sacred duty as a hero. Your condition was critical, so we immediately brought you here for treatment," Alain explained without so much as blinking.

     Seeing the deception proceed smoothly and the resurrection ritual proven successful, everyone's spirits inside the secret sanatorium immediately lifted, relief washing over them.

     Yet Greg's brow furrowed even deeper. "Then... why do the two of you keep calling me Greg and 'hero'?"

     "Because your name is Greg, and you're the hero who protects this kingdom," Grith replied, his voice deliberately softened as much as possible.

    Alain glanced at Grith meaningfully before clearing his throat. "Old Man, there's something urgent I'd like to discuss. Come with me for a moment," Alain interjected, pointing toward the corner of the corridor.

     "Ah, sure. Give me a moment," Grith replied. He turned back toward the bed. "Greg, if you need anything, just ask them directly," Grith said, gesturing toward his assistants.

    "All right. Thank you, Old Man," Greg replied briefly before once again staring at his unfamiliar fingers.

     After walking far enough to reach a quiet corridor within the sanatorium, Alain finally stopped. "The resurrection itself was a success, Old Man. But why does he have total amnesia?" Alain asked.

     "Who knows? Perhaps it's because such a vast span of time separated his death from this ancient era," Grith replied, stroking his thick beard, equally perplexed.

    Alain let out a long sigh and leaned against the stone wall. "At this rate, we're going to need a long time, Old Man, before Hero Greg is ready to fight again. He's probably forgotten how to wield a sword and use magic too, considering he doesn't even remember that he's a hero," Alain said anxiously.

    "True, but don't worry. I'll teach him magic from scratch. Or, once Greg's body is fully mobile, we can simply take him to the town square and test his strength firsthand. But... what about his hero outfit and sword?" Grith asked curiously.

     A sly smile spread across Alain's face. "Don't worry, Old Man. I've already ordered five sets of specialized armor made to match the ancient historical records I studied with absolute accuracy, along with five swords modeled after the original sword we discovered beside his skeleton back when we were searching for it."

      "Good, then," Grith said with a satisfied chuckle, patting Alain on the shoulder.

     "Let's go back and see how he's doing," Alain said after their secret discussion came to an end.

     "Let's go," Grith replied curtly.

     The two of them walked back into the sanatorium room and found Greg already standing beside the bed. "Greg, what are you doing? Why aren't you resting?" Alain asked in confusion.

     "Eh, Professor... it's fine, don't worry. I just wanted to look around because lying in bed all day was getting boring," Greg replied. But moments later—Grrrr-uuu—his stomach began to protest, producing a loud growl that echoed throughout the room.

     Alain immediately burst out laughing at the hero's antics. "Hahaha! You must be hungry, Hero! Give us a moment. We'll throw a little feast to celebrate your recovery!"

     After waiting several minutes, the freshly prepared dishes were finally served. Everyone now held a small celebration inside the room, eating together and chatting among themselves.

     Amid the lively gathering, Greg remained completely focused on the meal before him. He devoured every dish with tremendous appetite.

     "You certainly seem to be enjoying it, Greg. Go ahead, keep eating. If you're still hungry, have some more," Grith said warmly.

     "All right, then. I'll have another serving. Thank you, Old Man," Greg replied.

     Once everyone had eaten their fill, one of Alain's subordinates rose from his chair carrying an expensive glass bottle. "As the final touch to our feast, we have the finest Pineberry Wine! Let's raise a toast to the return of our hero!"

     They all raised their glasses and toasted together, bringing the impromptu dinner to a close.

     Greg set down his empty glass before looking between Grith and Alain. "Old Man, Professor, thank you for the meal. It seems all my strength has returned now."

     "You're welcome," Grith replied with a slow nod.

     "Ah, it's nothing. Really, that was hardly anything," Alain said with a proud chuckle.

     Greg fell silent for a moment. "Oh, right. If I'm really a hero, what exactly is my duty? And... where are my clothes and weapons?" Greg asked innocently.

     "Here in the Kingdom of Finchster, your duty as a hero is to face the attacks of the Catalyst Approach—to exterminate every monster that attacks anywhere throughout this kingdom," Grith explained with a serious expression.

     "Oh, okay. Thanks for the information," Greg replied with an understanding nod.

     Alain immediately joined the conversation. "As for your armor and weapons, of course they're already prepared. You can put them on right now."

     "All right. Then I'd like to see them," Greg replied curiously.

     "Of course. Silvi, take Greg to see his equipment. He may want to put it on immediately," Alain ordered his assistant.

     Silvi promptly stepped forward and bowed politely. "Yes, Professor. Come with me, Greg."

     "All right," Greg replied as he rose to his feet and followed Silvi toward another room.

     "Here they are—your clothes and equipment."

     "Then I'd like to try them on first, Silvi."

     "Okay. I'll wait outside the door," Silvi replied before stepping out and closing the door behind her.

     Greg froze the instant he laid eyes on the battle set displayed before him. Dawg, what the hell is that? It's freaking awesome. Should I just put it on right away? he muttered inwardly. Without wasting another second, Greg immediately donned the entire armor set.

     Once everything fit perfectly into place, he opened the door. "Silvi, I'm finished."

     When Silvi turned around, her eyes immediately widened in amazement. "Wow, Greg! You look seriously cool!"

     "Hahaha, it's nothing special," Greg replied modestly, scratching the back of his neck despite not being itchy.

     "Let's head back."

     "Sure."

     Clink-ching!

     The soft jingle of the chains adorning Greg's pauldrons rang out with every step as he returned to the sanatorium's main room. His arrival immediately drew the attention of Grith and Alain.

     "Old Man, Professor... it seems I'm ready to resume my duty as a hero."

Chapter 3 — End

Copyright © 2026 [Rei Vo Lution] - Project Destiny's Corpse.All Rights Reserved.

Next on Destiny's Corpse (Teaser) : 

The ancient armor now clung to the body of the legendary hero who had awakened with no sense of direction. What will Greg do next, now that he is suffering from complete amnesia? Can Greg actually swing his sword properly, or will he instead become a sacrifice on the battlefield?