Reincarnated as an Apocalyptic Catalyst-Chapter 50: The Ultimate Choice

[Experience Gained: 6,000]

[Bonus Experience Gained: 6,000]

[Amulet Bonus: 12,000 x 10. 120,000 Experience Gained]

[Total Experience: 52,548,800/104,857,600]

I didn’t kill Garrett. That was the best gift I could have given him, and he knew it.

I expected resistance, some last attempt at defiance, maybe even a pathetic struggle as my will crushed his own. Instead, he had folded under me like wet parchment. There was something intoxicating about that—the weight of his mind buckling beneath mine, the way his body refused to move without my approval. He wasn’t just obeying me. He was becoming something else entirely, and I enjoyed watching it happen. I wanted to see how far I could push it, but there was much more that had to be done and I couldn’t spend all of my focus on this man.

The first sign came when he addressed his men. He didn’t stammer, didn’t fumble for words like a cornered dog. His tone had sharpened, his posture straighter, his commands actually hitting their mark as he addressed his remaining people. The changes were astounding, even more so when I considered how closely they resembled me. Even the way he stood had changed.

I watched from a rooftop, perched above the tannery, with a fair stash of gems and gold filling my bag of holding, a haul far greater than I expected for so little work. Garrett met with what remained of his inner circle, those who hadn’t been in the tannery during my massacre. He moved like a man who understood his power—or rather, my power. He gestured with purpose, voice steady, eyes cold. He barked orders without hesitation, and the men listened, now filled with a revitalized sense of purpose before their changed commander. It wasn’t obedience born of fear.

One of his lieutenants—one of the few I hadn’t gutted, likely away on business at the time—spoke up, asking about the shift in operations. Garrett turned his head slowly, and for a moment, I could have sworn I was looking in a mirror. I was honestly quite surprised at how he had taken the time to address his subordinate, and how he was taking his concerns to heart. I hope I didn’t make him too soft.

"Slaves are dead weight," he said, echoing my own words from the night before. "We don’t need fodder. We need something that can fight back, something that can take this city for our own. If we continue this path, what will we get from it? A few coins, another product to smuggle across the city, spending our hard-earned money on bribes and other nonsense. We should shift our focus to mercenaries, those will pay us for years to come–depending on how long they live," Garrett laughed, and with him, his people took up the laughter as well. "We train them right, and all of our pockets will be full year round, for there is never a moment this kingdom does not need able-bodied men and women that can swing a sword!" With his declaration, they all roared in applause.

The lieutenant nodded quickly, joining in with the others, feeling himself being drawn into the mob mentality. Garrett could feel what was happening to him, even if he didn’t understand it, even if he didn’t like it.

I leaned back against the chimney stack, exhaling through my nose. Garrett’s transformation amused me. He went beyond following orders—he was reshaping his entire way of thinking toward my way of thinking. And the best part? He had no idea.

That was the beauty of Echoed Will. I didn’t have to be in the room to control him. My presence lingered beneath his skin, whispering into his thoughts. He might have believed these were his ideas, but they weren’t. Not really. If I ever sensed that he was breaking free, it would only cost half of my mana to strengthen my grip on him. If I had a dozen parasites under my command, this could be an issue, but for now, one guy, I could handle that.

I had no intention of micromanaging him. That would be a waste of effort. Instead, I wanted to see just how far this could go. How much of me was inside of him now? Would he continue shaping himself in my image? Would he start to think like me? To act like me?

Would he ever realize he was nothing more than an extension of my will? I grinned to myself, slipping back into the shadows.

I didn’t seek out Vance. He found me, which was unsettling. I had figured after my time with spawn number one, that things would become significantly more simplified, but this really troubled me. Vance was more like me than I wished, down to the sneaky little way he navigated through the darkness. Still, I couldn’t help but be at least a little proud.

The moment I stepped into my hideout, I felt his presence before I even saw him. He had a way of blending into the dark, his movements nearly as quiet as mine. Nearly.

"You’ve been busy," he mused from the corner of the room.

I didn’t react. If he wanted to impress me with stealth, he’d have to do better, but this was certainly a start. Instead, I grabbed a flask from the table, inspected the contents, took a slow drink, and leaned against the wall. "How did you make it in? Do you really have that many of my memories?"

He tilted his head, watching me with an expression I couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t defiance, not exactly. Curiosity, maybe. Some quiet conflict just writhing within.

"No, not all of them. I knew where you lived, but I wasn’t aware of all the traps you had set. Thankfully, you left me more than a couple of sweaty memories with the goddess, which isn’t weird, seeing as it’s me after all? Anyway, I knew to at least keep an eye out for something that would end me at your doorstep.

"Yes, but the traps... and the hidden door?"

"I can’t give away everything, and I know you too would answer the same way... Listen, I’m not here to fuck up your operation, and if it means anything, I couldn’t crack that vault of yours. You should think about making this room as secure as your store of treasures and whatever else you have tucked away there, or at least move your bed into the treasure room. That thing is a work of art I tell you, I didn’t dare make more than a single attempt, something told me it would kill me if I failed again." Vance laughed from deep within his belly, the sound laced with awkward discomfort.

"Duly noted," I responded, taking in his words and planning tomorrow in great detail. I think I might actually move the couch into the treasure room tonight, to stay on the safe side.

He changed the subject. "There’s a name, I can’t even be sure what it is, but it’s been pestering me. There’s some kind of link between it and myself, and I don’t know why. For whatever reason I don’t have any memories associated with it, but it stirs something in me."

I raised an eyebrow. "And?"

Vance exhaled through his nose, rubbing his temple like something was gnawing at his skull. "Laura... Moira... Mara. That’s it, the name is Mara."

I went still.

"She’s in trouble," he continued, his voice quieter now. "I don’t know how I know that. But I do. It’s killing me to not be able to do anything about it, but I have no idea where to even look for this person."

I pushed off the wall, setting the flask down with a soft clink. "Explain."

Vance hesitated. I could tell he didn’t like this—didn’t like not knowing where these instincts were coming from and liked what he said even less. I radiated an aura of killing intent, and it was apparent Vance could feel it.

"It’s like a memory, but it’s not mine," he admitted. "It’s hazy, like a dream I didn’t have but still remember. I just know she’s being targeted by someone, or multiple people. I know she’s scared."

That was enough.

I turned toward the door, already running through possible entry points in my mind. The Academy was locked down, protected by more than just stone walls. Portals, enchantments, layers of security designed to keep people like me out. Breaking in would be difficult. Staying hidden once inside would be even harder.

Vance shifted, eyes flicking toward me as if trying to read my thoughts. "Who is she?" he asked while following behind as fast as he could. Even so, I was rapidly outdistancing him. I ignored the question.

Instead, I focused on something far more troubling. How much of myself do they carry? How did he sense this when I could not? She was mine, not his, what was happening?

Vance was my creation, a fragment of my essence molded into something new. But if he could remember Mara, sense her distress through me, then what else did he inherit?

How much of me existed inside of them, for it wasn’t just Vance I was concerned about, now I was worried Garrett held the same visions. If someone like him could break free from my control, if he had the same access Vance did, I would be truly fucked.

The portal door stood tall, runes carved deep into its surface, humming with power. It was ancient, likely as old as the Academy itself, and it only allowed access to those permitted inside. Unfortunately, I didn’t believe I wasn’t on the list.

Getting past it required more than just skill—it required understanding. The portal operated on recognition, keying into the magical signatures of students and faculty. I had no way of mimicking that. My gut wrenched in protest as I realized what I needed to do. I hadn’t even exhausted my current body yet, and still, some things were more important. I would give anything to keep her safe.

I needed a host.

It took hours of painstaking watching and waiting. Nothing I did could push this worry away, I was trapped in my own personal hell, helpless to save her. Finally, I found what I needed—a young apprentice, likely a first-year, sneaking out for some nighttime mischief. He didn’t hear me coming. One quick strike to the base of his skull, and he slumped forward, unconscious before he hit the ground.

I knelt beside him, pressing two fingers to his temple. As I pried myself from the brain of the young man who had carried me with utter perfection so far. I felt dirty as I did the deed, but there was no turning back... The man I once controlled began to die without me.

My essence slipped inside him, I slipped through his skin, through his skull, and into his mind. Then by force of will alone, I brought him back from unconsciousness. His fingers twitched. His breathing slowed. Then, as if nothing had happened, he stood back up. I stood back up.

It was done. I grabbed my amulet, my daggers, a few specialized poisons, and my pouch. Really, whatever I could manage, and left the rest to Vance to protect, or steal, it didn’t matter.

Our dazed expression cleared as the portal shimmered, recognizing him instantly. Without hesitation, I stepped through.

[Experience Gained. New Host Acquired.]

The Academy was pristine, the stone halls lined with banners, the faint glow of enchanted lanterns casting soft shadows against the walls. Students and scholars moved through the corridors, unaware of the predator in their midst. ƒгeeweɓn૦vel.com

I moved between them unseen, blending with the dark. My goal wasn’t to confront anyone. It wasn’t to fight. It was to protect. Mara was in danger, but she couldn’t know I was here. If her teachers discovered I had infiltrated the Academy, it could ruin her. So I worked in the shadows.

Now to find the first threat—a group of students whispering in the courtyard, planning something for the following night. I didn’t recognize them, but I recognized the tone. The way their words dripped with cruelty.

I listened, gathering information. One of them had a dagger hidden beneath his robes. Another spoke of "teaching her a lesson." Only once I verified that she was in real danger, did I consider that Vance could have been lying to me. Thankfully, he spoke the truth, and I didn’t discard the only physical link I had to my love for nothing.

I followed them after they split up, waiting for the right moment. The one with the dagger never made it back to his dorm. He’d wake up in the infirmary tomorrow, bruised, confused, and missing his weapon. Flat out murder was a risk I wasn’t ready to take. I wasn’t just protecting her life, I was protecting her future.

The others? I made sure their plans unraveled before they even started. A poisoned drink—Unfortunately a non-lethal poison—, an accidental tumble down the stairs—subtlety was key. They would never know what had gone wrong, or why they all found similar misfortune on the same night, but hopefully it left an impression, something that told them it was unwise to continue their plans. The attacks would never happen. Mara would never know. If they tried something again, or if others decided to target her, I wouldn’t be able to restrain myself.

I watched her from the shadows that night, ensuring she was safe. Ensuring no one dared to harm her.

But as I turned to leave, I hesitated. A strange sensation prickled at the edges of my awareness, a faint but familiar presence lingering around her. It wasn’t magic. It wasn’t anything I could define. It felt like me.

For a split second, I wondered—Did Garret do something to her... Did Vance? Something was off about Mara. Could the others even replicate yet, and if so, did they get to her?

The thought sent a chill down my spine. But then I pushed it away. No. That was ridiculous. It was, wasn’t it?

I stopped by her room long enough to admire her sleeping, amidst a dozen other women around her age. I made my way to her, even in this strange body I had an otherworldly sense of grace. I leaned down and placed a kiss on her forehead as she stirred, and it was that moment that forced me to retreat. I left without a sound, disappearing into the night, wondering for only a heartbeat if I had made the right choice. Mara was safe, and anything I paid for that safety was well worth it.

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