The first time such a thing had occurred, the trial had shown him the failure of their mission in the quarry. He had seen how his comrades would die, how the remainder would be taken prisoner.
Castrelle had ignored it. He had thought it was some silly trick of the Beast, trying to play into his anxieties, corrupting his mind. It was that mistake of his, his silence, that had led so many of his comrades to suffer.
It was why he had been trying from that point forward to act in their stead, to ease his guilt, to save his remaining comrades.
But now, he was faced with what seemed like an inevitable horror. Would that sort of future happen once more? Would all the people he knew, the hundreds of comrades he spent time with, tried to comfort, saved… would they all be hung beside him, experiencing true agony, with no hope of survival?
Castrelle clutched at his head, kneeling in the wilted flowers as he shook violently.
'What… what- what can I do!?'
'F-ck, f-ck, f-ck!' His gaze froze, unable to see past the shaky blur that overtook his vision. 'No! Calm down! There's a possibility that the future I see isn't set in stone! This is only the second time I encountered it. This time, I'm taking it seriously!'
Grasping at his chest, he felt his rapidly-pulsating heart begin to slow back to its normal rate.
When he raised his head once more, he was back in the quarry. He never appeared back where he had died, as long as an object precluded his healing process. With a pointed stone pillar digging deep into his body, the system had thought it unreasonable to revive him there.
Castrelle had appeared back at the bottom of the quarry. However, he was now completely suspended above it, on a stone platform protruding from the cliffside. He was completely out of view, watching over the prisoners who had taken a short break for lunch.
Even the crazed Demon knew that prisoners needed to be fed to be kept alive. He often tore animals from the landscape, bashing their heads against the ground to kill them, then leaving the Reaper prisoners to pick up the pieces and sate their appetites.
A window had appeared in front of him. It read a simple light out in aqueous text.
[Phantom Haunt].
After Castrelle successfully completed a trial, he would have a twenty-four hour period where his forte would become inactive. Until that period elapsed, dying would truly kill him. Besides that, during that twenty-four hour inactive period, he received one of many choices from [Wraith's Burden]. It was his Distortion Law.
[You will feel the gazes of the dead spying on you from afar. Your natural sense of awareness will be obstructed slightly.]
'Well, I can clearly see the only danger currently. It's that Demon.'
Now, Castrelle watched as the Reapers painted their lips bloody, tearing into the meat ravenously, eyeing the Demon as they did so. It was a collection of their hatred, like an aura that permeated through the quarry. It was embarrassment, being in such a position. It was utter disdain.
'Fuck, I have to get back down there. Gremory doesn't seem too good at remembering us individually. This will be the third time I return to the ranks of the prisoners without his notice.'
Castrelle glanced around him, noticing a strange patterned mark on the surface of the cliffside.
Suspicious, he approached the patterned marks, brushing his hand over its surface. Dust clouds were immediately picked up by the wind, and Castrelle became aware that he was standing before a door.
He placed his hand on the door's surface, pushing it inwards. It creaked slightly, rusty iron hinges holding up the stone to the best of its ability. Past it, a large stone hallway stretched deep into darkness, obscuring where it led.
'Is it possible to find a way out of the quarry through here? No, this could be many things- living quarters, storage, kitchens… I know that this land was where Demons once flourished. What little we've been able to observe shows that much. This quarry should feature all the things that a quarry on Earth would have, I'm sure. But now, in such a decrepit land, there's more a chance that it houses monsters and crazed Demons. But if there's a chance I can find a way out, then there's nothing that will deter me.'
Steeling his heart, Castrelle stepped into the darkness. Various stone pillars supported the crumbling rock and soil above him, and stone slabs littered the floor, torn up after so many years of wear.
It was definitely the quarry's ruins.
He had long been suspicious of the lack of infrastructure within the quarry.
It was obvious from the many clues he had gathered - the way that Gremory would talk about Tenebris, and the city itself, as well as the sewers- all pointed to the fact that someone had once lived there. Many people. If they had workers that came to the quarry, they would need such amenities. However, in the little time they had spent as prisoners in the quarry, he had not been able to discover the hidden amenities.
It was a relief to the curious part of him to figure out that it was because they had been buried into the quarry itself. It also fueled another question within him.
If Gremory was forcing them to dig into the quarry for stone in order to rebuild 'Tenebris', why did the Demon not have them shape the stone in order for it to be easier used?
'Is it the case that the crazy Demon doesn't wish for us to discover his true intentions? It might be the case that he's trying to uncover these ruins using our labour. But why? What is in these ruins that Gremory could be trying to find?'
Journeying further in the darkness, Castrelle had to squint his eyes to make out any shapes ahead. So, he pulled his oil lantern from his side, which he was always sure to keep with him. He pulled out the flint that he stored inside, striking it against an exposed striation of the iron-rich stone, alighting the flint and causing the sparks to ignite the sparse-oil lantern.
The area around him was immediately illuminated by the dim-orange glow, and Castrelle had to blink a few times to adjust to the sudden change in light. After a few seconds had elapsed, he was finally able to see where he had arrived.
A large cavern enveloped his miniscule form, massive craggy crystals hanging from the ceiling, the light of the oil lamp bouncing off of them. He stood on an ancient stone bridge that overlooked a large ravine, a rushing river at the bottom, alight with strange aqueous lights dotted about the water's surface.
However, a dim silver glint in the corner of his eye was what caught his attention the most.
On a pedestal to the side of the cavern's bridge, which had crumbled and sloped to the weathering of time, sat a rusty ancient jian, a Chinese straight sword. Picking it up, Castrelle's mind raced. Before he had taken the Chance alongside his sister, he had been a history student attending university. Of course, his curious mind couldn't help but ponder.
'Hell… the nine circles, it's the first part of Dante Alighieri's extensive work, the Divine Comedy, a dramatic performance. I've often pointed out to Looking Glass how this is a strange connection, considering the veil of peculiarities that has enshrouded Earth- an absurd Earth, an absurd Hell. But this work takes inspiration from Abrahamic theology. In accordance, Hell should feature distinct Judaic, Christian, or Islamic influence… at least, that was my initial assumption. So what is an ancient Chinese straight sword doing here?'
It was a habit of his to question the origin of things, especially that which looked as if it had an extensive history behind it. His childish heart wished to pursue his line of questioning further, but he had to think about his survival first. Castrelle bit his lip, forcing his curiosity down into the depths of his mind and scraped the sword against the stone altar, freeing it of its rust.
At its core, he had obtained a weapon. That was what mattered most.
He cautiously stepped along the bridge, marveling at the sights. Of course, his history-student mind couldn't help but race, fighting against his better judgment to stay wary.
'They built their ruins inside of a cavern! How marvelous. Well, I suppose at the time, they weren't considered ruins… their amenities, maybe it isn't yet the case that I've found where they eat and slept! Gremory only ever referred to this place as a 'quarry', and due to how it looks on the surface, we only ever assumed that it was a stone quarry! It may be the case that this is the true purpose- a crystal mine! I wonder, what purpose did these crystals have?'
Because the crystals spread out the light of the lamp, he was able to catch a glimpse of the entire mine that had been revealed to him. Hundreds of platforms suspended by ropes from pulleys hanging high above were surely used to reach the crystals on the ceiling easily. Every few steps, a fallen pickaxe or chisel could be found, rusted over and forgotten by time.
Often, pebbles or dust clouds would fall from the cavern ceiling high above, causing Castrelle to jump, alerting him once more.
After a few minutes, he reached the middle of the bridge, which was leading him to the other side of the massive cavern. In the center, there was a strange collection of rocks and fallen debris.
'It looks… too uniform. Were these stones placed like this?'
Before Castrelle could investigate the collection of stones, the bridge began to churn. As he watched, fear gripping his body, the stones arose, interconnected by layers of bright-red carapaces. As the dust shook off of the arising mass, Castrelle came to the realisation that they weren't rocks at all.
They were the outer shell of a beast, the remaining crimson colour failing to be weathered by age.
It had thousands of writhing pitch-black legs on its armor-clad underbelly, and dozens of dotted-red eyes on its head. Its two antenna spun around in circles, confused, and its mandibles that obscured its maw of gnashing teeth pointed directly towards Castrelle, aware of its prey.
'A Centipede!? No, it's almost three-times as large as me! This thing is a Titan!'
The Reapers used three distinct labellings based on the size of monsters they encountered. Those were, in order from smallest to largest, Feyling, Behemoth, Titan, Leviathan, and Colossus. While Looking Glass had coined these terms expecting to encounter larger and larger creatures as they progressed, due to their hitting of a roadblock in the form of the Higher Demon guarding the sewer entrance, they had never seen anything larger than a Behemoth.
A Feyling monster would be about as large as a common house pet, like a cat or a dog. A Behemoth would be the size of a human, and a Titan three to five times as large as a person. The other two, which Looking Glass had assumed they would have no chance of encountering in the vast infinite plains, were categorised as being above-all and inconsiderably large. In theory, a Leviathan-class monster would be as tall as a western home. He would joke about it, saying that such a creature could range from the size of a one-bedroom home to a mansion.
But a Colossus was a figment of his imagination, with no hope of encountering such a creature. They would be as tall as skyscrapers, Looking Glass was sure. The Meister had that imaginative side to him, someone that dreamed of encountering exciting things in such a dangerous place.
Going by Looking Glass's monster categorisation system, the monster ahead of Castrelle was definitely a Titan-class monster.
'F-ck, I need to be careful not to die for the next twenty-four hours! If I can't surpass the time limit on Revenant Trial, I really will die!'
The Titan Centipede lurched forward, spinning the tail-end of its large body around, catching Castrelle in the side. He flew backwards, slamming into the ground below. His entire body spasmed with true agony, a pain that instantly seeped into every corner of his body, begging for an abatement of suffering.
His arm was able to block a majority of the blow, but that left his entire arm frozen by the traumatic hit, his nerves stunned.
Only his right arm and two legs remained usable.
'I need to be careful to receive no majour injuries in this time! I won't be able to obtain Equal Ground's Gift until Revenant Trial's cooldown has finished!'
He still held the ancient jian in his right hand, but it had been dulled after spending so much time being rusted away. There was definitely no way that he could cut into the armoured carapace of the Titan Centipede.
Castrelle picked himself up, knowing the Titan Centipede wouldn't allow him the chance to take his time to recover. As he expected, it had already lurched forward again. He dodged to the side, sharp pains erupting through his back and side as he moved. He winced, but knew that true death would be a greater pain he couldn't recover from.
'To beat a monster, I feel like I have to become a monster myself!' Castrelle struggled to raise the blade, jabbing it inbetween the shell of the Titan Centipede's head carapace, into the silky, meaty flesh below. The point of the blade resisted slightly, due to its dull edge, but with his quickly-ebbing strength, he was able to press it deep enough to allow it to stay embedded on its own. 'A human cannot conquer these cruel trials! That is why we have become Reapers, sent to take one soul above all!'
Various images flashed through Castrelle's mind as he raced alongside the Titan Centipede. The sight of his sister's blood pooling on the floor below him during his execution, the laughter that their Reaper Team had, the smile on Looking Glass's face when he would talk about his hobbies. He remembered the people that had volunteered for the quarry scouting mission, Fare and the rest.
He remembered all things important to him- all things waiting on him. All things potentially threatened by the future that the Revenant Trial had shown him.
And then, he remembered the face of the Demon, Gremory, the horrifying image settling on the forefront of his mind.
How he would take the chains that held them captive, along with a nail, and using his fist…
Castrelle picked up a piece of fallen debris, a stone, and swung it towards the rusted ancient sword, hammering it into the flesh of the Titan Centipede. It writhed, swinging its tail to try and knock him back once more. But he grasped the hilt of the blade, holding onto the Titan Centipede as it swung its head furiously, trying to shake him off.
It positioned itself over the edge of the bridge, and Castrelle had to press his legs against the side of the Titan Centipede to avoid hanging off. He gritted his teeth, and various other memories flashed through his mind.
He felt something inside him shatter, and his mind became clouded with the thought of the colour red. Pure red. An indescribable feeling that drove his mind to anger.
'F-CK! F-CK! F-CK! JUST BE OVER WITH ALREADY! I'M SICK OF THIS! JUST DIE! DIE! I'M GOING TO KILL YOU! THEN I'M GOING TO KILL THAT F-CKING DEMON! I'M GOING TO TAKE EVERYONE AND GET OUT OF THIS HORRIBLE PLACE!'
Castrelle bashed the rock down once more. The Carapace Centipede cried out, its grating screams echoing through the cavern. He bashed again. Then again. Then again. Then again. Then again. Then again.
Blood and carnage filled the air, a sense of malfeasance lurking about. The Titan Centipede lashed about, falling back towards the center of the bridge, throwing Castrelle to the ground before falling down itself, devoid of movement, except for its final instinctual twitches.
Countless illusory eyes peered at him from afar. He could sense it. It was maddening, the effect of the Revenant Trial.
Covered in a mucousy layer of blood, Castrelle knelt on the surface of the bridge, staring at his face in the pooling crimson. His gaze shook violently, and his inner voice took on a calm, dead tone.
'Looking Glass… I've tried to be patient. But I can't wait any longer for your plan. I'm going to kill that Demon. If that future I saw is true, I can't wait.'