Lina's Purpose

Theus froze at those words, then his pupils suddenly dilated.

He would not die. Of course he would not die.

If this shell died, he would simply switch to another. Even a dead shell might not be impossible to control. He had always thought that was a trait of [Shells].

But...

What if the unusual one was actually him?

Ever since discovering that he had transmigrated, he had taken it for granted that he would accomplish something great. Dying casually? Having his life come to an abrupt end?

How could that be possible?

No matter which death it had been, he had never doubted that he would revive. Even when that mechanical priest's hand had pierced his chest, he had felt only shock, not the slightest fear.

If he died, he would just revive. If he could not make it with this shell, no matter—his next one would be better.

He would not die. Even if he died, he would revive. Even if he could not revive, he would remain in some other form. He might fall, but he would not fall here. He had always felt that he ought to be like a protagonist—what protagonist died the moment he appeared?

All of this had seemed perfectly natural. Theus had never questioned it, yet at this moment, doubt suddenly flickered through his heart.

Could it be... that without even realizing it, his will had interfered with reality?

Bazel had firmly resisted death, and he had been closely connected to the White Bone Sanctuary, so flesh had truly grown from him.

Theus believed even more firmly that he would not die, and the Golden Throne stood higher than the White Bone Sanctuary. Then why could it not make him revive again and again?

This thought practically overturned everything Theus believed in,