Chapter 71 – Shattered Chains of the Immortals

The Shattered Chains were a place forgotten by time, hidden within the boundless stretch of the cosmos. It was a celestial prison that suspended in a place between the living and the dead, a jagged monument of pure oppression, where the immortals bound those who defied them. These chains were forged not of metal or steel, but of fear, despair, and the very essence of death itself. A prison beyond the reach of mortals, crafted by the hands of gods, to hold that which could threaten their reign.

Rin's arrival at the Shattered Chains was not by chance. The First Wound had left behind a tear in the cosmos, and in the wake of its collapse, the immortals, terrified by the reality he had unleashed, had moved swiftly to protect themselves. They feared the power of freedom, of true death that was unbound by their laws. In this prison, they locked away the souls of those who had the potential to dismantle their divine order. Souls that could challenge death's very boundaries. Souls like Rin's own.

Floating before him, the prison's immense structure loomed—a series of islands drifting through a fog of sorrowful mist. Each island was connected by chains of obsidian, glowing with the faintest flickers of imprisoned energy. It was an endless labyrinth of torment, stretching far beyond what mortal eyes could comprehend. On each island, the echoes of screams, of lost hopes, and of crushed wills resounded—silent, yet deafening. This was the reality the immortals had crafted to ensure their immortality, to quash any defiance.

Rin's eyes narrowed, his breath steady. Every fiber of his being resonated with the chains' power, each link a prison of shattered wills. He had already severed one cycle of death, but this was different. These were the immortals' final line of defense. If he could not break their hold here, they would forever be free from the weight of death.

He stepped forward.

The first soul he encountered was a figure bound to the island closest to his path. Her form was draped in chains that shimmered with an unholy light, her spirit worn and broken. Her eyes, though clouded with the centuries of torment, held a glimmer of recognition.

"Who… are you?" Her voice was barely a whisper, yet it cut through the oppressive silence of the prison.

Rin paused before her. His heart stirred with an emotion he had long since buried—sympathy. It was a fleeting feeling, one quickly buried beneath the cold resolve that had come to define him. This was not about saving the lost, but about seizing the power he needed to topple the immortals. But even so, he could not turn away from the soul trapped before him.

"I am the one who will free you," Rin said, his voice deep and unyielding. His Death Core thrummed in response to the chains' energy, recognizing the pattern of oppression that radiated from it.

The woman's eyes flickered with doubt, then disbelief, then a faint shimmer of hope. "You... you can't..."

"I can," Rin replied, his hand outstretched. His power surged, a vortex of death energy swirling around him. With a roar, he slammed his fist into the chain that bound her.

The chain cracked, shattering like glass. It fell away, and the woman collapsed into Rin's arms, gasping for breath, as though awakening from an eternal slumber.

"You're free," Rin whispered. His voice, despite the cold detachment he had come to embrace, held something more—an understanding. A realization that this act, this rebellion, was no longer about himself. It was about them. The souls. The lost.

Rin could feel their gaze upon him, all those who had been forgotten, who had been imprisoned in the liminal spaces of time. It was not just his liberation he sought anymore—it was theirs as well.

"You—" the woman began, but her voice was weak. Her body trembled, as though she had not known freedom in eons. She struggled to stand, her legs shaking.

"You will join my rebellion," Rin declared, his tone unwavering. "Together, we will bring an end to their reign."

As Rin continued through the prison, he freed more souls. Each one was a mirror of what he had once been—powerful, yet shackled. Some of them were cultivators who had once stood at the peaks of their realms, their names forgotten by time, their strength drained by endless cycles of reincarnation. Others were beings from forgotten epochs, their faces and identities erased by the immortals' machinations.

With each soul Rin freed, the weight of his purpose grew heavier. These beings, broken and weary, looked to him as their savior, the one who could break the chains that had bound them for countless years. The more he released, the more his power surged. Their experiences, their techniques, their fragmented memories were merged into his being. He learned more about death—how it could be controlled, how it could be transmuted, how it could be used to create something new.

A cultivator, an ancient one, spoke to him as they stood atop an island with the sky bleeding the same unholy mist.

"The immortals... they never truly die. They only hide, waiting for the world to bow once more to their will. This prison... this place is where they keep the defiant, where they strip them of their essence until only obedience remains."

"Then we will burn this place down," Rin said. His voice was colder now, as his resolve solidified. He was no longer just a wanderer lost in his own quest for death. He was a leader, a commander of the souls. The rebellion he was building would tear through the heavens themselves.

Rin's path through the prison was not easy. He faced resistance, both from the immortals' mindless guardians and the remnants of their twisted creations. But each soul he freed only further strengthened his resolve. The more souls he freed, the more he realized that their rebellion was not just a personal vendetta—it was the beginning of a cosmic upheaval. The immortals' false reign had ended. This was the dawn of a new order.

At the heart of the prison, Rin finally stood before the Celestial Warden, the last barrier between him and the final liberation of the imprisoned souls. The warden, an ethereal figure of dazzling light, loomed over him, the chains that bound the souls hanging from its limbs like a cloak.

"You think you can defy us, child of death?" The warden's voice rang like a thousand tortured screams. "You cannot escape the will of the heavens."

Rin's eyes glowed with the fury of a thousand lost souls. He stepped forward, his power radiating from him in waves.

"I do not seek to escape the heavens. I seek to destroy them."

With a snap of his fingers, the Soul-Eater Dagger materialized in his hand. The dagger's blade shimmered with the power of countless souls consumed by death. With a single swing, Rin slashed through the warden's chains, unraveling the warden's divine form and scattering the celestial essence.

As the warden disintegrated, Rin's voice rang out, loud enough to echo through the prison.

"Death is not a prison. It is freedom."

The Shattered Chains trembled, as if the universe itself felt the breaking of its bonds. The prison's islands began to disintegrate, the souls within them now free to roam, to rebuild, to become more than the immortals had ever allowed them to be.

Rin stood at the center, his hands raised to the sky, the sky itself breaking apart into fragments of light and shadow. The immortals had lost their hold on the world. The rebellion had begun.

The first of the imprisoned souls stepped forward, their eyes filled with newfound strength.

"Lead us, Death Lord," they said, and with that, Rin knew his purpose was no longer just his own.

It was the beginning of an era where death would not be feared but revered. Where the immortals would tremble, knowing that the chains they had forged were no longer enough to bind the soul of the universe.

To be continued…