Reborn In A Perverse Monster World! My System Adapts To Everything!

Chapter 124: Submit Or Die.

Jason’s consciousness returned like a wave crashing against a shore.

One moment, there was nothing—an endless void of darkness and ancient will. The next, he was aware. He was here. His mind snapped back into his body with a force that made him gasp, his lungs filling with air that tasted of dust and ash and something he couldn’t quite make out.

He found himself holding a gigantic sword made of interwoven wood, its edge gleaming with a faint golden light. Two massive figures stood before him—one wreathed in shadow, the other burning with molten fire. The Shade Lord. The Ember King.

They had been fighting him. Or rather, his body had been fighting them.

"I wasn’t even conscious for that."

The realization hit him like a thunderbolt. His body had been acting on instinct, defending itself, attacking whatever threatened it. It had been driven by the last emotions he had felt before he technically died—rage, determination, the desperate need to protect his friends.

"I don’t remember doing any of this."

But now, he was back. His mind was his own. And everything felt... natural. Like he had always possessed this power. Like he had been here before, in this body, wielding this strength. The Marrow’s authority flowed through him like a second bloodstream, familiar and comfortable and this frankly, should have terrified him.

"Oh... Shit," Jason muttered under his breath.

He looked over his shoulder and saw Maldred trying to escape. The giant was crawling across the broken stone, his massive frame dragging itself toward a gap in the wall. Jason raised his hand, and roots erupted from the ground, wrapping around Maldred’s ankles, his legs, his torso. The giant was bound in an instant, frozen in place.

"Ylva," Jason called out, his voice sharp with concern. "What the hell are you doing here? I told you to stay back!"

Ylva’s eyes widened but it showed conflicting emotions that contradicted each other. She had been watching the battle from the shadows, her heart pounding, her claws were nowhere to be seen because she knew it would make no difference. But now, hearing his voice—his real voice, filled with emotion and worry—she felt something crack inside her.

"Jason?" she whispered.

"Yeah, it’s me." He flashed her a tired grin. "The one and only."

Mae let out a shaky breath. Her hooves scraped against the stone. "He’s back. He’s actually back."

Ylva’s tail curled. "You idiot. You absolute idiot. Don’t you ever—"

"I know, I know." Jason turned back to face the two lords. "But we can have that conversation later. Right now, I need you both to stay back. I’ll finish this quickly."

The Shade Lord and the Ember King did not acknowledge Ylva or Mae. Their attention was fixed entirely on Jason, their forms radiating power that made the air itself tremble. To them, the two women were insignificant—insects scurrying beneath the feet of giants.

Jason studied them, his mind racing.

"It would be so funny if it’s revealed I’m schizophrenic and Ylva and Mae never existed."

The thought came unbidden, a flash of dark humor that made him almost smile. But the Ember King shattered the moment.

The creature charged.

Its massive body moved with surprising speed, its molten fist swinging toward Jason’s head. Jason raised his wooden sword, the movement fluid and effortless. The blade caught the Ember King’s strike, deflecting it with a shower of sparks. The impact sent a shockwave rippling through the chamber, but Jason did not budge.

"Oh, I’m strong strong!" Jason said, his grin widening.

He flicked his wrist, and a wave of branches shot toward the Shade Lord. The shadow-wreathed creature raised its sword, cutting through the first wave of wood with ease. But the branches kept coming—endless, relentless, adapting to its movements. The Shade Lord sliced through dozens of them, but they reformed faster than it could destroy them.

Within moments, the creature was overwhelmed. Thick roots coiled around its formless body, binding it in place. It struggled, its shadowy limbs thrashing, but the wood held firm.

Jason was far more dangerous awake than "asleep." His body acting on instinct had been powerful, but it had lacked imagination. It had lacked creativity. Now, his mind was fully engaged, and that made all the difference.

The Shade Lord showed no emotion. Its face was a void, impossible to read. But its struggles grew more desperate as the roots tightened around it.

"You both know I have no problems with you, right?" Jason said, his voice casual. "You’re free to leave. Or I will kill you both."

The Ember King’s molten eyes flared with fury.

The ground beneath Jason’s feet turned to lava, forcing him to sink right through.

He fell—but only for a moment. He had already known the attack was coming. He had felt the shift in the Ember King’s power, the sudden surge of heat that preceded the attack. And he had prepared for it. Jason could see everything now.

The Jason who had fallen into the lava was not Jason at all. It was a construct—a perfect replica made of wood and illusion, crafted in the split second before the attack landed.

The real Jason sat on the Ember King’s shoulder, he had moved that fast as its focus was on the replica.

"Well," he said, his voice light. "That wasn’t very kind."

The Ember King froze. Its molten eyes widened. It tried to move, to shake him off, to attack—but its body would not obey. It was frozen in place, locked by the Marrow’s will.

"You people do not seem to understand," Jason said, his voice dropping. "Everything you thought you knew about the Marrow is wrong. I have taken its power and made it my own. You are no longer trapped here."

He hopped off the Ember King’s shoulder and landed on the ground, his feet cracking the stone beneath him. He raised his hand and, with a casual gesture, granted the Ember King back its ability to move.

The creature did not attack.

The Shade Lord, still bound, stopped struggling.

For a long moment, the two lords stood motionless. Their minds processed what had just happened. They had been bound by the Marrow for millennia, forced into an endless cycle of sleep. And now, the vessel before them had taken that power—and was offering them freedom.

Slowly, deliberately, both giants bent the knee.

Jason sighed in relief. He had not wanted to fight them. Even with his enhanced power, extinguishing them would have taken too long. They were strong, yes—but the Marrow was stronger. That was why it had been able to control them in the first place.

"Smart choice," Jason said but this knee acknowledged they were submitting to him.

He turned his attention to Maldred.

The giant was still bound by the roots, his massive frame frozen in place, his golden eyes wide with terror. Jason ignored the two kneeling lords and walked toward him. The tree branch beneath his feet carried him forward, bringing him face to face with the creature that had killed him.

"Now," Jason said, his voice different—colder, harder, stripped of humor. "You."

-

His body was gone—every last piece of grey flesh, every fragment of cracked skin, every drop of black ichor had been consumed by the apple.

The fruit pulsed with a faint, rhythmic glow, its surface smooth and unblemished, its hunger finally sated. There was nothing left of the being that had once ruled the castle of roots. Nothing but the pulsing heart of the apple, beating with a slow, steady rhythm that echoed through the empty chamber.

He had devoured himself completely.

But since he was no longer recognized by the Marrow, he could not feel it anymore. The ancient connection that had bound him to the wasteland for millennia had been severed, leaving him adrift in a void of silence. No pulse of the barrier. No weight of the cycle. No endless, oppressive awareness of the land he had once governed. The Marrow’s presence, once a constant hum in the back of his consciousness, was gone.

It was strange. Liberating and utterly terrifying.

"I am free. Now I rest and create a body fit for my ascension."

The thought brought no comfort. Freedom had come at a cost—his power, his form, his purpose. All of it had been sacrificed to escape the cycle. He had become something smaller, something weaker, something that could hide in the hollow shell of an apple and wait for an uncertain future. The creature that had once commanded roots and vines and armies was now nothing more than a seed.

But he could still sense the lords of the marrow.

The other lords had made their move. He could feel them awakening, their power surging through the grey soil, shaking the foundations of the land itself. It was impossible not to sense something so strong—the ground trembled, the roots in the walls writhed, the air grew thick with ancient fury.

"The Marrow is collapsing."

The realization washed over him like cold water. The barrier was failing. The cycle was broken. The four lords—once the anchors of the Marrow’s will—were no longer bound to their purpose. And without them, the wasteland would tear itself apart. The Marrow’s power, no longer contained, would consume everything in its path.

He did not care.

The apple pulsed once, twice, then went still. Its glow dimmed to a faint whisper of light, barely visible in the darkness of the chamber. The lord of vines had retreated into its depths, his consciousness folding inward, his essence hibernating. He would wait. He would rest. And when the chaos subsided, he would emerge again. It planned to use Jason’s body or at least, create a body identical to it, by transferring his power into him, it learned his body at a cellular level and could create a perfect copy.

The chamber fell silent. The apple hung from its branch, motionless and dark. The lord of vines had become nothing more than a seed, buried in the heart of a dying land.