I Was Reborn in Another World, But I Awoke Inside a Corpse

Chapter 177: Even the Quiet Hurts

Time passed, but Isaac didn't know how much.

He and Asmodeus sat side by side in the heart of the garden, beneath the soft silver canopy of the trees. No bells rang. No birds called. Only the sound of slow water flowing through the stream nearby, and the gentle rhythm of her breath against his shoulder.

She hadn't moved since leaning into him.

He hadn't asked her to.

He didn't need to.

Sometimes silence was the most honest form of closeness.

Isaac slowly lifted his hand and ran his fingers through the grass at their feet. The blades shimmered faintly beneath his touch, responding—not with magic, but recognition. The entire space pulsed with something unspoken.

A sanctuary of truth.

"This place…" he said softly. "It's nothing like I imagined."

Asmodeus didn't lift her head. "Because no one imagines Lust could look like this."

Isaac exhaled through his nose. "They're wrong."

A pause.

Then, almost like a confession:

"So was I."

Her lips curved into a quiet smile. "I forgive you."

"I didn't ask for forgiveness."

"I know. That's why I'm giving it."

Another still moment passed between them.

Then she stirred slightly and sat upright—not pulling away, but shifting just enough to meet his eyes.

Her violet gaze was calm. Open.

"You've seen what I buried," she said. "So let me see something of you now."

He hesitated. "You've already seen my past. The system showed everyone what I've killed. What I've become."

"That's not what I mean," she replied. "I've seen your legend. I want to see your soul."

He looked at her for a long time.

Then nodded.

He placed his palm against the earth beside her, and the garden responded with a pulse of soft light.

"I'll show you something I haven't shown anyone else," he said.

From the grass, a flicker emerged—his own memory, taking form like mist.

It was a scene from his earliest days in this world.

Him—trapped inside the corpse, blind, unable to move, feeling maggots crawl over his lips. Screaming inside his own mind for someone to hear him. For days. Weeks.

The vision faded.

And the garden dimmed.

Asmodeus didn't look away.

Instead, she reached for his hand and held it between both of hers.

"You were born in agony," she whispered. "No wonder you fear peace."

Isaac gave a short, quiet breath that was almost a laugh. "You make it sound poetic."

"It is."

He looked down at her hands. They were warm. Real.

And steady.

"Do you still want me here?" he asked.

"I never wanted you here," she said, and for a heartbeat, his chest tightened.

Then she continued.

"I hoped you'd come. Want is easy. Hope is vulnerable."

He turned toward her, more fully this time.

"And now?"

Her voice was barely audible.

"Now I don't want you to leave."

He didn't answer.

But his hand turned in hers, and their fingers closed together.

Not as a promise.

Not as a bond.

Just… as understanding.

And in the sacred garden no one else knew, the Queen of Lust and the Soulborn anomaly shared something deeper than power or passion.

They shared recognition.