Reborn with Infinity Skill Points, I Enslaved All Universes-Chapter 221 --Soul Release

Kafka stood still in the quiet of the Soulstone mine, deep in thought.

He was seriously considering whether he should head back.

After all, without Daniel by his side, mining Soul Stones alone was practically impossible. The process required at least two people—one to extract, the other to guard. In this treacherous place, working alone was almost a death sentence.

But just as he was about to make a decision, Daniel’s figure suddenly reappeared beside him—without warning, as if reality had momentarily blinked.

Daniel didn’t stop to rest, nor did he explain where he had gone. Instead, he looked straight at Kafka and said calmly:

"Don’t just stand there. Let’s keep digging."

...

Meanwhile, deep inside the City of the Undead, Glaton’s monstrous body was now riddled with dozens of small wounds.

While none of them were deep enough to threaten him physically—they were, in fact, mere scratches compared to his enormous body—they weren’t what truly alarmed him.

No, what terrified Glaton was the state of his SAN value.

Every physical injury could slowly heal with time, but the effects of [Contamination] were only increasing.

Currently, the Contamination debuff was causing a 1% decrease in SAN per day.

Which meant that this once-proud and seemingly immortal being now had less than 100 days before complete mental collapse.

What’s more, Glaton had realized something chilling—that with each stab Daniel inflicted, his spiritual corruption deepened, and his remaining days grew fewer.

No longer arrogant, no longer taunting, Glaton had completely sobered up. His pride had shattered, and he now spoke with humility—his once-lofty demeanor reduced to begging.

"My friend... there’s no need for this," Glaton pleaded.

"It was all my fault earlier. I sincerely ask for your forgiveness. Just this once."

He was desperate. He had finally realized how helpless he was against Daniel.

Despite his godlike power in the Undead Lands, Glaton found that no matter what he did, he couldn’t even touch Daniel, let alone harm him.

After several failed attempts to retaliate, Glaton was forced to face an uncomfortable truth: there was a reason why Daniel was so feared and respected in the world of the living.

No—forget the world of the living. Even here in the Undead Lands, Daniel’s strength was absolute.

And Glaton himself was living proof of that.

A being like Daniel... could not be provoked.

Now, as regret filled his heart, Glaton thought back to just minutes earlier—how smug he had felt showing off his soul collection, how proud he had been of imprisoning powerful spirits like trophies.

And now? That same pride had turned into despair.

Why had he ever messed with Daniel?

But what Glaton didn’t know was that from the very beginning, Daniel had never planned to let him go.

To Daniel, the act of imprisoning powerful souls—treating them as collectibles—was utterly unforgivable.

His plan had always been simple: an eye for an eye, a soul for a soul.

If Glaton enjoyed imprisoning others’ souls, then Daniel would do the same to him.

"Glaton," Daniel said, voice sharp as frost, "Didn’t you think you were so powerful?"

"Didn’t you want to enslave me? Use the souls of human heroes to threaten me?"

"I have to say, you’re incredibly bold."

"Let me tell you something," Daniel continued. "The last person who tried to threaten me... is probably wandering somewhere in the Undead Lands by now."

"At least he had the chance to become a soul. But you? Glaton, do you think you will get that chance?"

Daniel’s voice grew colder with every word. He hated being threatened.

Ever since awakening his powers, few had dared to challenge him—fewer still had lived to regret it.

"I can release the souls of the human heroes right now!" Glaton blurted, desperate to salvage the situation.

But Daniel shook his head slowly.

"Not just the humans," he said. "I want you to release all of them. Every single soul you’ve imprisoned."

Glaton blinked, startled. Among the thousands of souls he had collected over the centuries, there were undoubtedly both good and evil spirits—some of them were murderers and warlords, beings with heinous pasts.

But Daniel didn’t care.

He wasn’t worried.

With his current strength, there wasn’t a soul he couldn’t handle.

Besides, the souls wouldn’t be able to pass through the Gate of Life immediately after release. There were procedures to follow. Judgments to make.

Daniel planned to organize a grand trial for all of them.

More importantly, he had no intention of letting them return to life the traditional way.

If the souls went through the Gate of Life, they would be reincarnated as infants—having to live out an entire life again just to grow strong once more.

But time was something Daniel could no longer afford to waste.

The Millennium Apocalypse was already upon them. There was no time for slow development.

Daniel’s plan was straightforward: once he finished synthesizing [Grand Resurrection], he would revive them all at full strength.

That way, every warrior could return at the peak of their power—ready to fight.

Faced with Daniel’s demands, Glaton dared not refuse. He agreed immediately.

At the same time, he frantically tried every purification skill he had. Holy light, soul cleansing, divine chants—nothing worked.

No matter what he did, the [Contamination] status refused to lift.

He even attempted full reincarnation, hoping that starting over might cleanse the corruption.

But even after being reborn, the status remained.

Could it be... that Contamination had already fused with his soul?

The mere thought chilled Glaton to the core.

Heavy with dread, he stopped hesitating and gave the order:

"All Soul Enforcers, listen carefully—go to the prison cells and release all prisoners. From this moment forward, no soul is to be imprisoned again!"

...

In the dungeons beneath Glaton’s castle, Daniel stood before rows of cages—each one housing a "trophy."

In his hand was a ring of keys, which Glaton had just handed over reluctantly.

With a simple twist of a key, the first cage creaked open.

A frail soul crawled out, barely able to stand.

[First Human Emperor: Arthur]

Though his spirit was weak, Arthur still struggled to stand tall—his posture proud despite his condition.

Yet even in this moment of freedom, he didn’t seem particularly joyful.

This surprised Daniel.

Arthur looked at him, voice calm and clear.

"You finally came," he said. "Right on time."

Daniel gave a small wave, and the keys in his hand flew out, unlocking cage after cage in rapid succession.

One by one, the imprisoned souls were freed.

More and more of them emerged—ghostly figures of every race, all reclaiming their freedom after ages in captivity.

And not just the basement. All over the City of the Undead, prison gates opened wide.

Thousands of souls drifted into the streets, confused but elated.

"Why are the cells open?" one asked.

"Did Lord Glaton have a change of heart?"

"No, no—you don’t know? There was a huge battle at the castle just now!"

"I saw it myself! Some human soul was attacking the lord’s defenses!"

"You think it’s because of that human... that we’re free now?"

As speculation ran wild, one spirit—a recently deceased awakener—paused.

He scratched his head. Something about this whole scene felt... familiar.

Though he had only recently died, his memories were still mostly intact.

And for some reason, this entire incident—the sudden release of souls, the defiance against Glaton, the style of action—it all reminded him of one person.

Could it be... Daniel?

But that was absurd.

Lord Daniel couldn’t have died—couldn’t possibly be here in this cursed land.

Right?

"...No," the awakener muttered to himself. "Lord Daniel would never die... and he definitely wouldn’t be in a place like this..."

Even as he said it, though, a sliver of doubt crept into his mind.