Reclaimed By My Ex-husband - Chapter 40: I just want to move on

A man dies in a plane crash from a supposed terrorist attack. A mysterious... Devil reincarnates him into a new world and gender bends him into a female.

It looked to be your standard fantasy world at first, but as Arpious traverses farther into her journey, she finds out that she might not be on a planet.

She discovers many secrets that are unknown to her fellow monsters, through the help of her comrades, wives, and even enemies?

She learns that the sky is fake? There are worlds right under her world? How is that even possible?

Spirits instead of gods? Where the heck is she?

How does it feel to lose your parents at the tender age of four?Imagine the trauma, the psychological scars. Now, take it a step further—what if they died right in front of you?That was Kael’s reality. As a young boy, he watched his parents perish while desperately protecting a golden coin.At the time, Kael had no idea of its significance. He only knew that their deaths were tied to it.Fleeing from his father’s murderers, he was forced to survive on the unforgiving streets, learning to fight, steal, and endure.Twelve years later, he had transformed into one of the deadliest assassins the world had ever known.He had no official title. No known employer. No traceable identity. Just a calling card.They called him The Coin Flipper.Not because he left his mark, but because after every kill—just as the body hit the ground, as the last breath escaped—he would flip a coin.No one knew why. Some believed it was mockery, a cruel reminder that fate had turned against them. Others thought it was ritual.But what they didn’t know was that each coin held power—literal currency of the Core System embedded in Kael’s soul.Every kill earned him millions. Digital fortunes funneled into off-grid accounts with each confirmed target. Blood turned into bounty, pain into profit.And one thing was certain: if you saw the glint of a coin spinning through the air, death had already found you.

Amidst the eerie silence of an unfamiliar hall, a cacophony of confused voices rose, mingling in a chorus of bewilderment. “Where are we?” “What happened?” “I thought I died!” Each utterance hung in the air, a testament to the collective disbelief gripping the room.As the haze of confusion lifted, disjointed memories surfaced, fragments of lives cut short by tragedy. “I remember... I was stabbed...” ventured one voice, echoed by another's affirmation of a similar fate. “I... I died in a plane crash,” muttered a third, only to be met with a stunned agreement from a fellow survivor.Amidst the chaos of bewildered voices, one man stood apart, his expression a mask of contemplation amidst the turmoil. As his companions recounted their brushes with death, his mind churned with questions, each more confounding than the last.“I got shot... I remember it vividly,” he murmured to himself, his voice barely audible above the din. “So how am I still here?” The enigma of their shared resurrection gnawed at him, compelling him to seek answers in the depths of his memories.With each revelation of a paired demise—a male and female, bound by the same tragic fate—a flicker of recognition ignited within him. “This... this seems familiar,” he mused, the pieces of a puzzle slowly coalescing in his mind. But the picture remained incomplete, obscured by the fog of uncertainty that shrouded their surroundings.As the words “pairs, pairs, pairs” echoed in his mind like a cryptic mantra, a sudden realization struck him with the force of a revelation. “It can't be... don't tell me...” he whispered, his voice trembling with disbelief. With a sense of urgency, he began to scan his surroundings, searching for any sign or clue that could confirm his suspicions.Then, as if guided by an unseen force, his gaze shifted upwards, and there, bathed in an ethereal light, stood an angelic figure with golden apparel, its gaze fixed upon him with a warm smile. The sight took his breath away, filling him with a mixture of awe and trepidation.The man's heart raced as faced a real angel, his mind struggling to comprehend the surreal encounter unfolding before him. The angel's words, spoken with an air of amusement, only deepened the enigma shrouding their meeting.“I never expected anyone to notice me,” the angel remarked, a hint of playfulness in its voice. “I was concealing my presence to let everyone fully calm down, but to think someone noticed me. Just who are you?”Ethan's disbelief and confusion intensified at the angel's question. “Eh... Ethan Rivers,” he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.As Aurelia, the angel, finally revealed himself to the bewildered assembly, a hush fell over the room, each soul drawn in by his radiant presence and commanding aura. Ethan's gaze lingered on Aurelia.“Greetings, lost souls,” Aurelia declared, his voice resonating with a majestic power that seemed to fill the very air around them. “I am Aurelia, and I shall be your guide to your new life.”As Aurelia extended his arms in a gesture of welcome, Ethan felt a surge of rage and hesitation, “This it bad, really bad.”

“The Second Cult Leader and the Prophet of the Voodooists died during the Holy War seven years ago.”

Florence Academy was a prestigious clergy academy.

“Now that the Voodooists are considered as a cult, who is the Third Cult Leader, where are they now, and what are they up to?”

Only I knew the answer to this question.

The Third Cult Leader was a freshman at Florence Academy. He was here, standing amongst the others in the auditorium.

How do I know this, you ask?

Because I’m the Cult Leader.

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