The powerful roar of a beast resembling a dragon but with a mouth full of teeth instead of a head on its neck confused the black panther. The cat had been chasing after this bastard for several hours, if not for the wounds she had sustained, she would have stopped long ago. But that damn roar had thrown her off course. How dare he!

She couldn't leave him be anymore. It wasn't just for food now, but also for revenge for his insulting roar. She knew little and remembered little about herself. Even thinking was difficult, as if she had been drinking for days and then someone hit her with a hammer on the head.

But the actions of this monster made her lose her way. Hatred grew stronger with each roar. Something unnatural emanated from this fake dragon.

The dragon flew and every half a minute emitted its cry. He had already feasted on this agile bitch. She had been following him for some time, not allowing him to enjoy the hunt to the end.

Approaching a small mountain that was empty, with only black rocks inhabiting the area.

After hovering for a while, he surveyed the area for potential enemies, confirming that those who lived here were weaklings and would not be able to influence the battle. He landed, gathering air into his lungs and greedily gazing at the place where the enemy was supposed to appear.

The panther stopped at a distance of more than 200 meters and hid behind sparse trees. Before approaching, she turned right so as not to become an easy prey for the enemy. If she walked straight, she would become too vulnerable. She had long developed instincts for hunting.

The Pseudodragon looked towards where he had come from. He expected a pesky tuft of fur, to be honest, it had a very appetizing soul for such a small body.

Observing from behind the tree, the panther watched her enemy. As expected, he looked in the direction from where he had flown, waiting for her to pounce on him in anger. What a fool. What had changed since the last time? Only the absence of those strange stones.

Slowly, she emerged from her hiding spot and approached quietly from a blind spot. Without making a sound, she approached close enough to leap onto him, but not so close that he could not defend himself if he saw or heard her. One wrong move and the element of surprise would be lost.

Close enough to strike, just one more step, and then the sound of a rock hitting another could be heard nearby. The panther pounced on the enemy. As the Pseudodragon turned towards the source of the sound, he was able to see the disgusting little humans with long ears and a mouth full of teeth. Their black, tar-like skin helped them hide, but the camouflage effect was poor. The world was already black, but the shades of black surrounding the world from these parasites were different. The world was in a dim black light. But they were black, bright, and shiny, if there was sun. But it had long left us.

And suddenly, an approaching enemy appeared, who lunged at him. Her fangs and claws enlarged and filled with something dark. White claws and fangs turned black as ink, entering the flesh of the enemy. At the same time, Pseudo Dragon, attempting to dodge, realized the attempt was futile. And from the pain in his soul, he filled his skin with strength. It became stronger and thicker. But not quickly enough: the fangs and claws entered the flesh, and the darkness spread throughout the body like poison, dark as tar, the substance destroying everything it touched, bringing pain to the entire body.

The Dragon shed his skin and ignited a fire that burned both inside and out, destroying the panther like poison. The panther leaped away from the anger and pain, and Pseudo Dragon emitted an angry roar, ready to pounce. However, a powerful earthquake stopped him.

Slowly, a crack appeared on the ground, which increased with every passing second. Pseudo Dragon wanted to ignore the crack and lunge at the panther. But two white tentacles emerged from the crack, catching the hapless Pseudo Dragon. He was still engulfed in flames and tried to burn the tentacles, but in response, several powerful earthquakes occurred. From the crack came the words, "I am chosen! I AM CHOSEN!"

Having captured his prey, he slowly dragged her into the crack, which slowly closed behind them. As it closed, the last thing that could be heard was a roar of despair. The panther ran away, frightened.

Alpha, arrogantly looking at his wounded enemy, stood up and opened his wings, flying away. Thinking he had left, he turned to his brethren.

But a furious cry was heard from behind, and in response, there were less loud, but angry cries, ready for battle. The main bird looked at the flock with bloodshot eyes. Shouting, he attacked one of the birds with his claws. The other birds, following his lead, also began to attack.

Alpha, becoming even more enraged, prepared to attack. Some of the birds began to attack directly in the eyes with their beaks. Or they tried to catch and throw them from the height with their claws. And the flock was not sitting idly by: someone was jumping on birds flying close, and someone, overestimating their strength, tried to catch and fly away, but the target was too heavy, and they were torn apart before they could even take off.

In this chaotic battle, one pseudo-wolf ran away to a pile of rat corpses. Looking at the fools, he thought, "Let the fools fight each other, even losing their identity, for my enjoyment." After that, he began to make his way between the corpses.

***

After finishing reading aloud, the book taught how to levitate in the air, and a green-blue mist began to seep out of the written letters. The mist, resembling jelly, slowly started to settle on the book, covering the symbols. Some of the symbols began to emit a weak red light. The mist became saturated and began to glow in all three colors: red, green, and blue. The red light resembled blood, the green was like a swamp, and the blue was like a frozen corpse from the depths of winter hell.

The light from the circle became so strong that he had to close his eyes. But even with his eyes closed, he continued to feel the blinding light. When he opened his eyes, he saw nothing but darkness. He looked around, but saw nothing. Deciding to stand up, he noticed a drop of violet light approaching him from afar. It stopped ten meters away from him and began to fall, forming many small drops of light. Some of them were green or blue, but they quickly disappeared against the background of violet drops.

All these drops gathered together, forming a huge sphere that darkened but was still visible in the darkness. The sphere shattered, and from it emerged something solid, resembling a stone, but as soft as silk. It was a cloak, blacker than the darkness around it. Inside the cloak was a person or a creature-like being, shrouded in darkness.

Two violet dots appeared from under the hood, directed at him. The creature looked at him for a while, and then slowly approached.

He felt a threat stronger than from a dragon or a panther. He felt this threat twice: when he died and in front of the handsome man from that world.

This creature, reaching one meter, stopped and said in a hoarse voice, "Do you want my gift?" As soon as it finished asking, everything fell silent, and it looked at him, waiting for an answer.

This question puzzled him, but remembering the name of the spell he had read, he quickly calmed down and confidently said, "No."

"No... And why not?" the creature asked, a little surprised.

"I won't agree until I know all the details," he confidently replied to the deadly threat before him.

"Details? Well, I have plenty of time. Let's start with introductions. I am Death, and you are a pitiful soul, lost in this world devoid of cycles. In exchange for the strength to survive in this world, you will become my apostle and walk the path of the dead."

"What does it mean to become an apostle of Death and walk the path of the dead?" he asked, as if he had forgotten that he was talking to a powerful being.

"Apostles of Death are necromancers for mortals. And you can become a full-fledged one if I allow it. And the path of the dead is to become a lich."

"Okay, I accept. But what does it mean to be a full-fledged necromancer?" he asked, not understanding.

"A full-fledged necromancer can use all types of spells, both necromantic and others. And most importantly, the dead will not attack him, even if he did not summon them himself. And incompleteness of a necromancer is hidden in this. You're very lucky that you didn't start studying necromancy right away, because there are different paths, and one leads to a dead end, while the other continues."

"Um... But can't a regular incomplete necromancer become a lich?" he asked, doubting his decision.

"He can, but it takes payment and time. And if you become my apostle, you can become a lich immediately after death, as long as you have things nearby that you want to use as a phylactery... Any more questions?"

"Just one - who are you?" he asked, looking straight into my eyes with a serious tone. He was 99% sure who I was, but wanted to be 100% sure.

"I... I thought you had guessed. Apparently, I overestimated you... I am Death, the embodiment of this law." Pride could be heard in his hoarse voice. "If there are no more questions, then let's begin."

When he was about to ask again what he meant, decaying flesh emerged from Death's back. These rotting pieces headed towards him and seized him. He didn't even have time to move his finger before he was caught. They began to cover him, but before he was fully covered, he heard a familiar hoarse voice.

"Did you really think it would be for free? Go through the trials and you'll receive my gift..."

But before finishing the sentence, the decaying flesh stopped covering its victim. Instead, it released him. Death looked at the now-free man with doubt and wanted to ask, but before he could, something dawned on him and he began to cackle wildly.

"I see it now! I understand! You've already died once." Saying the last word, he extended a bony hand from under his dark cloak and pointing a finger at him.

"Where did you...," I was about to ask when I realized who he was. He was Death. And I was about to ask a foolish question.

"Where did I learn? That's what you wanted to ask. You did well to stop... Well, you've already successfully completed the trials. So, my apostle, come and receive my gift of death," he said calmly, looking at me in surprise.

"How did it end? You're s...," I didn't have a chance to finish before being interrupted.

"You've already felt what it's like to die. What death means. And you've felt the pain of others. Thank the book when you return. But for now, come." Having many more questions in the end, I eventually gave up without even trying. I felt tired of answering. And I was tired of it all.