Reborn In A Perverse Monster World! My System Adapts To Everything! Chapter 110: Defying A God? [FIXED!]

Jason’s mind raced, piecing together fragnts of information like shards of broken glass. The watcher. the barrier, the mana he had absorbed, and the way the roots parted for him but attacked Ylva.

"If this creature was here, and what I defeated was an essence of him, then the power I absorbed originally belonged to him."

The realization hit like a thunderbolt.

"That should make it possible for to resist his powers. To an extent."

It was why he had been able to move his head when no one else could. Why his barrier had manifested without conscious thought and why the roots had never attacked him.

Jason knew, in that mont, that he had to confront this creature eventually. There was no running, no hiding, and no bargaining.

"You..." Jason muttered, his voice strained against the weight pressing down on him. "You subdue us with your power... but you’re bound to that chair like a slave."

Mae’s eyes widened from across the chamber. Ylva’s claws scraped against the stone. Even the ant king, hibernating, seed to twitch.

"Now isn’t the ti to agitate it," their expressions scread.

Jason ignored them.

He forced his head up higher, eting the creature’s golden eyes. Blood dripped from his nose as his vision swam. But he did not look away.

"If a creature as strong as you can be left in this state," Jason said, "are you truly absolute?"

The creature’s eyes flashed.

Visions flooded Jason’s mind—the sa visions Mae had experienced. Deaths. Hundreds of them. Jason saw himself crushed, burned, dismbered, devoured. Each death more horrific than the last.

Jason did not flinch.

Because the deaths in those visions were mostly caused by blunt force trauma. And Jason had built up an immunity to it. The system had adapted. The blows that should have shattered his bones bounced off his reinforced fra even though this didn’t negate the psychological effect.

The creature’s brow furrowed. Its golden eyes narrowed.

It said nothing, it just watched him in amusent.

Jason’s lips curled into sothing between a grimace and a smile.

"You need us, don’t you?" Jason’s voice was raw, his throat bleeding from the pressure. "You need us to free you. A body with so many powers that it has forgotten which it holds. That’s why you create different variants of yourself. The one we just fought, the roots. Each with a different ability that originally belonged to you."

He was speaking out of his ass. He had no evidence, no proof, no logical foundation for any of it.

But for so strange reason, looking into those golden eyes granted him an insight. A brief second of connection. He looked past the overwhelming pain coursing through his veins, past the bloodshot stain spreading across his eyes, and he saw.

The creature’s isolation. Its hunger and its imprisonnt.

Jason’s body scread in protest. The gravity intensified, pressing him deeper into the moss. Bones creaked and his joints popped. But he planted his palms on the floor and pushed.

Slowly and agonizingly. Jason got to his feet.

His legs trembled and his spine curved under the weight but he stood.

Ylva’s voice cut through the chamber, high and desperate. "Jason, stop! Look away! Your eyes—they’re about to pop out of your skull!"

Blood vessels had burst in his sclera, turning the whites of his eyes a deep, violent red. Tears of blood streaked down his cheeks.

Jason did not look away.

"Fuck all of that," he said, his voice steady despite the agony. "If you wanted us dead, we would all be dead already."

The creature’s expression did not change.

Jason raised his right hand. It shook violently, but he held it up.

"With my right hand," he said, "I will oppose you."

He raised his left hand.

"And with my left, I will save my friend."

The resolve he showed—despite his mind literally fracturing under the pressure, despite the blood leaking from his eyes, despite the weight that should have crushed him into paste—seed to resonate through the chamber.

The creature smiled.

Not warmly, not kindly. But with sothing that looked almost like recognition.

The vines reacted.

They shot toward Jason—not gently this ti, not parting like servants. They struck like serpents, wrapping around his arms, his torso, his throat. They squeezed. Tight. Violent.

"Threat," the roots seed to say. "Eliminate."

The creature stood up.

For the first ti since they had entered the chamber, the lord rose from his throne. The roots that bound him stretched and creaked but did not break. He took one step toward Jason. Then another.

Ylva scread. "NO! GET AWAY FROM HIM!"

She tried to lunge. Her body would not move. The gravity pinned her in place, her claws frozen mid-swipe, her teeth bared in a snarl that would never reach its target.

The apple above pulsed. Aggressively and hungrily. It had found sothing it wanted to devour.

But Jason was not afraid.

Because the vines—the ones wrapped around his neck, his arms, his chest—had done sothing unexpected. They had broken the gravity that held him down. The pressure that had been crushing him from above was gone, replaced by the physical grip of the roots.

He could move.

Not much or freely but enough.

Jason’s eyes locked onto Ylva, Mae, and the ant king’s sleeping form.

"I’m sorry," he thought.

He summoned every ounce of mana he had absorbed from the watcher—every stolen fragnt of the creature’s power—and channeled it into the floor beneath them.

The stone exploded.

A blast of force ripped through the moss, through the roots, through the ancient stone. A hole opened beneath Ylva, Mae, and the ant king, plunging them into the darkness of the lower chambers.

Ylva’s scream echoed as she fell.

"JASON!"

Her voice faded. Then silence.

Jason stood alone in the chamber, wrapped in vines, facing a god.

The creature took another step closer but Jason knew this couldn’t be it for him.

Jason smirked through the blood streaking his face, expecting the creature to strike him down. To crush his skull, to end him for his defiance.

But the creature, once within close proximity of him, did not kill him.

No. It did sothing else—sothing Jason would never have anticipated.

The lord’s golden eyes softened. His cracked lips parted. His voice, when it ca, was not heavy or crushing. It was quiet, almost gentle.

"You can do it," the creature said. "You possess a fragnt of my power. But with this vessel..." He paused, tilting his head. "You are not bound. You are not limited. You are... empty enough to hold what I cannot."

Jason’s smirk faded. "What are you talking about?"

The creature raised his hand. His grey, cracked fingers pressed against Jason’s forehead. The touch was cold—colder than the Marrow, colder than death. One finger—the index—dug into Jason’s skin.

Jason gasped. Pain lanced through his skull, white-hot and blinding. The creature was carving sothing into his flesh—a sign, a symbol, lines of power that burned as they were etched.

Above them, the apple’s mouth opened.

Not a crack this ti. A gaping maw, lined with teeth that should not exist on fruit. From its depths, a violent burst of energy erupted—golden, blinding, and destructive. The energy did not spread outward. It funneled directly into Jason, pouring into the symbol on his forehead like water into a cracked vessel.

"AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!" Jason scread.

The pain was unimaginable. His body convulsed. His veins lit up beneath his skin, glowing gold, threatening to burst. Mana—more mana than he had ever felt—flooded his system, drowning him, filling every empty space, compressing into his core.

The creature had found a loophole.

If he could beco significantly weaker, the Marrow would not recognize him as a lord. It would not force him into slumber. He could stay awake—montarily unstable, yes, but awake. The barrier would fluctuate. Criminals might slip out during this period but he would not sleep.

And Jason... Jason was the vessel for this power.

The energy kept flowing. Jason’s body should have exploded. No one in existence could handle this much mana. But his system—the adaptation, the absorption, the endless hunger—drank it all. It processed the torrent, converted it, stored it. This was how Jason’s body processed mana, it was like a blackhole that consud everything with no limitation.

Jason had used spell after spell since entering the Marrow without showing any sign of exhaustion. The barrier, the blast, and the absorption. None of it had drained him.

This must be why Thalion tried to take his body in the first place. Jason was beginning to understand that this was more than what he thought it was.

The flow stopped.

The apple’s mouth closed. The golden light faded and Jason dropped to the ground, his knees slamming against the moss, his chest heaving.

Blood dripped from his forehead where the symbol now glead—faint, gold, permanent. He looked up, the creature had changed.

The towering, bound giant was gone. In its place stood a figure only slightly taller than Jason, its grey skin still cracked, its face still asymtrical, but the weight—the crushing, absolute weight—was gone. The eerie energy that had filled the chamber had dissipated.

Jason’s mind raced. "W-What is this?"

The creature t his eyes. Its voice was quiet, tired.

"I have granted you the power to save your friend," it said.

Jason looked at his hands. The vines around him—the ones that had been strangling him—were no longer hostile. He could feel them. Hundreds of roots, tendrils, and branches, all connected to him through the symbol on his forehead. He flexed his fingers, and the roots responded, curling away from his throat, loosening their grip.

He had control.

And more than that—he could sense sothing else. Another presence, deep within the Marrow, beyond the stone and the roots and the darkness. A lord. The other lord. The one who was being forced to sleep.

And within that presence, faint but unmistakable, a fragnt of Thalion’s mana.

Jason pushed himself to his feet. His body was buzzing with power—raw, untad, barely contained.

"Thalion," he whispered.

The creature nodded. "Go. Your friend awaits. And when you find him... you will know what to do."

Jason didn’t wait. He turned and ran, the roots parting before him like a sea.