I Die to Rise: Resurrection System-Chapter 62: [DRDR] Death Reapers Don’t Run!?

The Reaper removed its mask with a slow, deliberate motion, revealing a face that didn’t belong on an agent of cosmic death.

It was devastatingly handsome. A sharp jawline, high cheekbones, skin so flawless it looked like porcelain, with black hair that fell in a perfectly styled waves.

This was the kind of face that belonged on magazine covers or Renaissance paintings, not on something that existed to end lives.

"Kurt Manchester," the Reaper said, its voice smooth and professional. "Your time is up."

The System immediately chimed, and Kurt’s vision flooded with notifications. The usual calm blue interface had shifted to a violent, pulsing red.

[SYSTEM ALERT - CRITICAL THREAT DETECTED]

[EMERGENCY QUEST ACTIVATED]

[- Objective: Survive Reaper Encounter]

[Duration: 24 Hours]

[- Reward: +25 Points]

[WARNING: Death by Reaper incurs severe penalties]

[RECOMMENDATION: AVOID ENGAGEMENT]

"Don’t need to tell me twice." Kurt stared at the crimson text, then at the impossibly beautiful death sentence walking toward him.

"Not what I was expecting." He lit a cigarette with trembling fingers, more out of habit than actual need. "Thought you lot would be all bones and robes."

"Definitely not what anyone was expecting," Lizzie said, fanning herself with one hand despite the cold air. "Is someone else feeling hot? ’Cause Mama’s feeling hot."

Emma shrugged, still gripping her Beretta but visibly distracted. "I could definitely hit that."

Cassandra’s followed with a grin that was predatory, her tongue sliding slowly across her lips. "Seconded."

Kurt’s head whipped toward them in surprise and disbelief. "Are you ladies being for real right now?"

Zaza raised one finger, her expression blank as always. "I believe they’re discussing the Reaper’s physical attractiveness. And they’re not wrong."

"Christ," Kurt muttered. "We’re about to die and you’re all thirsting over the grim bloody reaper."

Rook stepped forward immediately, positioning himself between Kurt and the advancing figure. His exhausted body straightened, shoulders squared despite the cracks still faintly glowing on his skin. "Mr. Reaper, I’m sorry, but we can’t let you have him."

The Reaper ignored him completely. Its eyes, which were dark and endless as the void, remained locked on Kurt as it continued its unhurried approach.

"So that’s how it is." Rook’s jaw tightened. "Guys! Let’s give this stranger the Raven’s Crow welcome!" 𝕗𝐫𝐞𝕖𝕨𝐞𝗯𝚗𝕠𝘃𝐞𝚕.𝐜𝗼𝚖

"AYE!" The remaining guild members, battered and exhausted but still standing, began channeling essence. Fire erupted from some hands, plasma blasts from others. Lightning crackled, wind howled, and weapons discharged in a cacophony of desperation.

The barrage struck the Reaper dead-on, and for a fleeting moment, smoke obscured the figure entirely. Then, as the haze cleared, it emerged... still walking, completely unharmed. Not a single scorch mark marred its form; not even a wrinkle disturbed its immaculate suit.

Frustrated, Cassandra slammed her palm against the ground. Instantly, ice erupted upward, forming a massive wall between the Reaper and Kurt. The barrier was thick and reinforced, a formidable defense.

Yet, the Reaper did not hesitate. It didn’t move around the wall, nor did it attempt to climb over it. Instead, it walked straight through.

The instant it touched the ice, the wall began to wither. Color drained rapidly from the frozen structure, fading to a dull gray and becoming brittle. Within seconds, it became nothing, as if it had aged a thousand years in the blink of an eye.

The Reaper’s calm and unyielding voice cut through the chaos. "I did not come for you. But interfere again, and you will share his fate."

"Don’t mess with us!" A young, reckless guild member, fueled by adrenaline, lunged forward with a blade glowing with essence.

"NO!" Rook shouted, but it was too late.

The Reaper’s hand moved almost lazily, fingers brushing the man’s chest, and his body seized mid-stride.

His skin turned gray, then black, withering like paper exposed to flame. Within three seconds, he was a desiccated husk, mummified and lifeless, collapsing to the ground in a heap of dried flesh and bone.

Kurt took a step backward, his cigarette slipping from his lips. Panic surged through him. "I gotta get out of here..."

Before he could move further, Emma’s voice came in sharp with concern. Like she had seen that look before—on the edge of breaking. "Kurt?"

He shook his head, voice tight and urgent as he backed away. "It’s not your fight. I gotta go."

And then—Spoof!

In a blink of nothing, he vanished.

Without hesitation, Zaza sank into her shadow, disappearing into the darkness as she tracked Kurt’s soul like a bloodhound.

Meanwhile, the Reaper tilted its head slightly, as if contemplating, before swinging its scythe in a wide, horizontal arc, killing distance itself and displacing its location in the process.

Kurt reappeared a block away, already sprinting, and barely had time to register movement before the Reaper materialized directly in front of him, hand reaching for his throat.

Suddenly, Zaza’s lightning wraith erupted from the ground between them, electricity crackling across its smoky form, and the Reaper’s fingers brushed the creature instead, causing it to wither instantly, collapsing into ash.

"Aww," Zaza said, emerging from Kurt’s shadow and running beside him. "Now I have to make a new one."

Kurt glanced at her, breathing hard. "I’d thank you for helping, but this is all kind of your fault."

He corrected himself immediately. "Sorry... not kind of. What I meant to say was it is your fault!"

They both looked back to see that the Reaper wasn’t running. Rather, it was walking. Slowly and methodically. Like it had all the time in the world.

"Sorry," Zaza said quietly, her gaze dropping to the ground even as they ran. "I’ve never met anyone like you before."

Kurt’s lungs burned. "Any ideas on escaping a Reaper? I’m guessing you’re an expert with your whole death-y vibe."

"No ideas," Zaza said flatly. "It’s impossible."

"Great! Just my bloody luck!"

The Reaper raised its scythe and swung, unleashing a wave of black energy tore through the ground, carving a line straight toward them.

Kurt grabbed Zaza and shoved her sideways, both of them hitting the dirt as the wave passed inches from their heads.

Where the energy struck, a massive chasm opened. The ground itself had died, crumbling into lifeless dust.

Still on the ground, Kurt found himself on top of Zaza, his hand accidentally sinking into the soft curve of her chest. "Soft." He couldn’t help but comment.

"Thank you," Zaza replied, her expression unchanged, still blank as ever.

They scrambled to their feet and kept running, but Kurt’s legs were already giving out. "Can’t... keep this up..."

"I do remember reading something," Zaza said, still matching his pace effortlessly. "About temporarily banishing a Reaper with a particular sigil. But the ingredients required to draw it are impossible to obtain."

Kurt’s head snapped toward her. "Did you say sigil?"

A flash of memory hit him—the Keeper’s hand on his forehead, the complex diagrams, centered around blood.

"Yeah..." Zaza tilted her head. "Why?"

"Blood," Kurt whispered to himself. He stopped running and turned to Zaza. "You’ve got a knife?"

Zaza pulled out the same small blade she’d used against him earlier, handing it over without hesitation.

Kurt stared at it for a second, remembering how she attempted to kill him less than an hour ago, and succeeded. ’No time for grudges.’ He sliced open his palm, blood welling immediately. "Can you stall it?"

"Impossible," Zaza said, but the faintest hint of color returned to her pale cheeks. "But I’ll try anyway. I wonder what you’re planning."

She turned and walked back toward the Reaper, her modest dress shifting back into the revealing, purple-black form, her scythe materializing in her hands.

Kurt dropped to his knees, squeezing his hand, forcing blood to trickle onto the concrete. The diagrams burned in his mind, and his finger began to trace them in crimson.

***

Back at the battlefield, Lizzie paced frantically, her hands pulling at her hair. "What was that dumb, chain smoking, trenchcoat wearing, numbskull thinking?!"

Emma slammed her fist against a broken wall and it shattered. "His own stupid way of protecting us, probably."

Rook’s expression was grim. "He’s trying to draw it away. Keep us safe."

Cassandra’s eyes scanned the area and she noticed. "Zaza’s missing."

Lizzie’s voice rose. "You think she—?"

"That bitch," Emma snarled. "I’m gonna fucking kill her."

Rook turned toward the direction Kurt had fled. "In any case, we move. Now. He can’t handle that alone. We’ll figure something out together."

They ran, boots pounding against broken concrete as they chased after Kurt.