I Died and Became a Noble's Heir

Chapter 421: Death’s Shop Part 1

The portal shimmered with purple energy as two figures stepped through into Death’s shop.

Rhys stumbled slightly as the transition completed, his hand instinctively reaching for the wall to steady himself. Even after multiple trips through various portals, the sensation of interdimensional travel still made his stomach churn.

Pho materialized beside him, the massive demon’s presence immediately dominating the space. Ice crystals formed in the air around him despite the shop’s controlled environment.

”Focus, prince,” Pho said, his voice carrying that same cold authority. ”We’re here for equipment, not sightseeing.”

The shop itself was beyond anything Rhys had imagined.

An impossible space that seemed to stretch infinitely in all directions, shelves upon shelves of weapons and artifacts disappearing into shadowy heights. The sheer amount of power radiating from the merchandise made his skin prickle.

A faint green glow appeared near Rhys’s shoulder, and Sylph materialized in a shimmer of wind energy. The six-inch fairy hovered beside his head, her eyes studied the shop with obvious fascination.

Her green aura pulsed softly as she took in the impossible space.

”This place is enormous!” Her tiny voice carried wonder despite its small volume. ”I can feel the death energy everywhere. It’s... weird, but also beautiful?”

”Stay close,” Rhys muttered to her. ”I don’t know if anything in here might try to...”

”Well, well, well!” A cheerful voice echoed through the shop, and Rhys turned to see the God of Death vaulting over the counter with surprising grace. Today’s apron was decorated with tiny dancing skeletons instead of the usual skulls. ”New customers! And such interesting ones at that!”

The god approached them with the enthusiasm of someone who’d been stuck with no business for weeks. His glowing eye sockets fixed on Rhys with uncomfortable intensity.

”Prince Rhys of Caeloria! And you brought Pho! My favorite ice demon!” He gestured grandly at the surrounding shelves. ”You’ve come to the right place. Old Death here will set you up with everything you need to become a proper warrior.”

Then Death’s gaze shifted to Sylph, and his skeletal grin somehow widened further.

”And you brought a wind spirit! How delightful! I don’t see many of those anymore. Most of them got bound into weapons centuries ago.” He leaned closer to examine her, and Sylph darted behind Rhys’s head. ”Don’t worry, little one. I’m not in the spirit-binding business. Bad for repeat customers.”

Rhys opened his mouth to respond, but Pho stepped forward, ice crackling along his arms in a subtle warning.

”We’re here for specific items,” the demon said coldly. ”Not whatever overpriced garbage you’re trying to unload on naive customers.”

Death’s skeletal grin somehow widened. ”Pho! Still holding that grudge about the cursed armor incident, I see.”

”You told me it was fire-resistant.”

”It was! Technically. Just not heat-resistant. Important distinction.”

”It melted onto my skin.”

”And you survived! Character-building experience, really.”

Rhys watched the exchange with growing concern. If Death was willing to scam someone as terrifying as Pho, what chance did he have?

Sylph flew closer to Rhys’s ear, her green aura dimming as she whispered. ”I don’t trust him. He feels... slippery. Like wind that changes direction without warning.”

Rhys nodded slightly, acknowledging her warning without speaking aloud.

”So!” Death clapped his hands together, pulling attention back to himself. ”What are we shopping for today? Weapons? Armor? Magical accessories? I’ve got a lovely collection of cursed rings that only occasionally try to eat their wearers.”

”We need a weapon for the prince,” Pho interrupted before Death could continue his sales pitch. ”Something that complements his affinities and combat style.”

Death’s glowing eyes focused on Rhys with renewed interest. ”Affinities, you say? Let’s see what we’re working with here.”

Before Rhys could protest, Death reached out and grabbed his wrist. Energy pulsed through the contact, and Rhys felt his magic responding involuntarily as the god analyzed him.

Sylph immediately flared brighter, her green aura intensifying as she felt the intrusion of Death’s power. ”Hey! You could have asked first!”

”Where’s the fun in that?” Death replied, though he did release Rhys’s wrist. ”Ah! Wind and water! Excellent combination, very versatile.” He rubbed his skeletal hands together. ”I have just the thing. Follow me!”

He led them deeper into the shop, moving through sections that seemed to rearrange themselves as they walked.

Weapons lined the walls in organized chaos.

Swords that crackled with lightning, spears that dripped with poison, axes that burned with eternal flames.

Death stopped before a section dedicated to wind-aspected weapons, gesturing with evident pride. ”Here we are! Premium wind weapons, perfect for someone with your particular gifts. Now, I’m thinking this beauty right here...”

He reached for an elegant sword that seemed to be forged from compressed air, its blade shifting and flowing like wind made solid.

”Galeforce Blade,” Death announced. ”Legendary-quality, amplifies wind magic by 80%, grants the ability to create localized tornadoes. Only 300,000 death tokens, a complete steal at that price!”

Rhys’s eyes widened at both the weapon and the price. He didn’t have anywhere near that many tokens.

”He doesn’t need a wind weapon,” Pho stated flatly.

Death blinked, his skeletal features somehow managing to convey confusion.

”But we just confirmed he has wind affinity...”

Pho interrupted. ”Which is exactly why he needs a fire or lightning weapon.”

Rhys looked between them, equally confused. ”I don’t understand. Shouldn’t I get a weapon that matches my magic?”

Sylph reappeared from behind Rhys’s shoulder, her black and green eyes narrowing as she studied Pho. ”He’s right to be confused. Every wind mage I’ve ever known used wind-aspected weapons.”

”And how many of those wind mages became truly dangerous?” Pho asked, his blank white eyes somehow focusing on the tiny fairy despite having no pupils. ”How many transcended being merely competent to become genuine threats?”

Sylph’s glow dimmed slightly as she considered. ”Not... many.”

”Exactly.”

”No,” Pho glared, looking back at Rhys. ”You should get a weapon that complements your magic. There’s a difference.”

Death’s expression shifted from confusion to interest. ”Oh, this should be good. Please, enlighten us, oh frozen one. Why would someone with wind and water magic want fire or lightning?”

Pho’s blank white eyes fixed on Rhys, and when he spoke, his voice carried the weight of someone who’d spent centuries perfecting the art of killing.

”Tell me, prince. What can you do with wind magic?”

Rhys hesitated, feeling as if he were being tested. ”I can... create gusts? Move air around? Make barriers? Wind blades?”

”Think smaller,” Pho commanded. ”More precise. What is wind, fundamentally?”

”Moving air?”

”And air is made of what?”

Rhys’s mind raced through half-remembered lessons from tutors who’d tried to teach him about elemental theory. ”Oxygen? Nitrogen? Other gases?”

”Correct.” Pho gestured with one clawed hand, ice forming in the air to illustrate his point. ”Wind magic doesn’t just move air. At higher levels, it controls the components of air itself. You could drain the oxygen from an enemy’s lungs, suffocate them from the inside out. Or force pure oxygen into their body until their blood burns from over-oxygenation.”

Rhys felt his stomach turn at the imagery, but Pho continued without mercy.

”Now add fire to the equation. What happens when you feed a flame pure oxygen?”

”It... gets bigger?”

”It explodes,” Death interjected, his voice carrying genuine appreciation. ”Oh, that’s delightful. Use wind to trap an enemy, then ignite them from within. I love it!”

Sylph’s green aura pulsed rapidly as understanding dawned. ”You’re teaching him to weaponize support magic.”

”Precisely,” Pho confirmed. ”Or use water to create a prison around your target. A sphere of liquid they can’t escape. Then introduce fire or lightning through your weapon. The water conducts the energy, amplifies it, turns a simple attack into something that strikes from every direction at once.”

Rhys’s mind reeled as he tried to process the tactical implications. He’d spent his entire life thinking of his magic as defensive, as support abilities that helped him survive rather than dominate. But the way Pho described it...

”You have a good combination of affinities,” Pho continued. The slight smirk on his face showed this was high praise coming from him.

”Wind and water can control the battlefield, dictate positioning, and create opportunities. But you need offensive power to capitalize on those opportunities. Fire or lightning provides that power.”

”Plus,” Death added with obvious glee, ”there’s the psychological factor! Imagine some poor bastard thinking they’re safe because you’re a wind mage, only to have you fill their lungs with superheated air and cook them from the inside! The look on their face would be priceless! Well, briefly, before the screaming started.”

”You’re enjoying this too much,” Pho observed.

”I’m the God of Death. This is literally my job.”

Sylph flew in a tight circle around Rhys’s head, her green aura leaving trails in the air. ”He’s not wrong, Rhys.”

The words stung coming from his own spirit companion, but Rhys knew they were true. He’d spent so long being afraid, being reactive, that he’d never considered how his abilities could be used offensively, with the few exceptions he used in the duel with Jack.

Most of those came from pure rage and a desire to be accepted by his father.

”So,” Death said, rubbing his hands together again. ”Fire or lightning? What’s your preference, young prince?”

Rhys considered for a moment. Lightning was the most feared element. He’d be an idiot not to choose that.