Quincy, Castrelle, Mercury, and all of the other Reapers glanced up at the treeline, euphoria surging up in their hearts. He had finally arrived. It was certain that they would win.
Up on the cliff-top, the masked figure aimed down his rifle, taking another shot at the Lower Demon. The bullet tore through one of the slitted eyes of Gremory, sending greyish brain matter and skull fragments flying through the exit wound in the back of his head.
Lower Demons were an entirely different creature in comparison to Dweller Demons. Unlike the Dwellers that died like normal beasts, Lower Demons didn't die the moment one of their internal organs like their brain or heart was damaged. They needed to be entirely incapacitated to die. That was why it would take so many Reaper teams in order to kill one.
Looking Glass chambered another bullet, glancing out of the shuttered lense of his mask towards the man beside him, who wore an ornate clown mask with various painted embellishments on his surface.
In a hollow tone echoing through the mask's breathing filter, Looking Glass spoke to the clown. "Cicero, begin."
"Yes, Meister." The smile of the clown mask shifted, its crimson-painted lips curling up into a sly smile. It followed the emotions of its wearer, displaying cunning as the Clown, Cicero, raised his hands into the air, palms turned downwards.
He whispered underneath his breath, "prank."
In an instant, swirling illusory gates appeared in front of them, linking down below to the quarry floor. This was Cicero's forte, [Prankster's Gate]. He could create several gates beside himself, linking them to an area approximately two-hundred meters away.
Looking Glass turned towards a middle-aged man to the right of him, with curly-brown hair and bright-green eyes. He had two black-leather gloves wrapped intricately with thin metal wires. His face was split with a diagonal wound, sewn tight together with stitching of the same thin wire.
"Mr. Willow, the Survey Expedition volunteers have been incapacitated. It seems our initial plan of dispatching the Lower Demon won't be possible at this time."
"Even for you?" The man replied, smirking. He wore a formal suit underneath a long black coat. At his waist, he had a large spool of thin wire ready to be used along with his forte.
"I'm not a God, Mr. Willow. Just a man." Looking Glass continued aiming his rifle at Gremory, looking at the foul Demon through the scope. "We'll proceed with the contingency plan. We'll fight against the Lower Demon as the two minor teams we brought with us carry the volunteers to safety. Barring the one we've failed to reach in time, not a single death will be permitted. Is that clear?"
"Yes, Looking Glass." The brown haired man nodded his head.
While the two conversed, Gremory had reached his hand up into the air once more, ready to crush the Moreau twins into nothing but blood and bone fragments on the stone below in retaliation. Looking Glass pulled the trigger of his rifle, sending another bullet bursting through a tendon on Gremory's wrist, causing his hand to go limp.
"Cicero, do it."
"Yes, Meister." The Clown snapped his fingers, causing one of the gates beside him to warp and flicker, appearing beneath Looking Glass. The rifle-wielding figure instantly fell through the illusory gate, being thrown out two-hundred meters below onto the quarry floor.
He appeared beside the Moreau siblings that had been pinned to the ground by the crystal fragments. Without hesitation, Looking Glass raised his rifle and sent another bullet bursting through another one of the Lower Demon's slitted eyes. This caused the Demon to recoil in pain, and using the opportunity, Looking Glass threw the rifle around his back and grabbed the shirts of both siblings, pulling them out of the ground, crystal fragments and all.
The two cried out in pain, but it was of no significance. All Reapers were used to pain. As long as the crystals remained embedded within the two, they wouldn't bleed out. It was a guarantee that they could be healed as long as they could manage to escape the quarry.
Soon after, the two minor Reaper teams appeared, following Mr. Willow and his own team. The two minor teams ran towards the incapacitated prisoners, beginning to pick them up and carry them to the illusory gates operated by the Clown, Cicero.
The top Reaper teams were currently at odds on where to proceed with the engagement of the Higher Demon guarding the sewer entrance. This was partially due to the stressors caused by the capture of the Quarry Expedition Volunteers. As such, the only top Reaper teams Looking Glass had been able to convince to rescue the volunteers had been his own, Reaper Team Eternity, and the team led by Mr. Willow, Reaper Team Vanguard.
For Looking Glass, it wasn't just the lives of the volunteers and his team members that the rescue mission rode on.
If he couldn't make this succeed, it was unlikely he would be able to repair the trust between the other Reaper teams. They all blamed each other, thinking the others were at fault for the failure of the expedition.
It was crucial that everyone stayed alive.
Mr. Willow walked forth without fear, slowly, smirking. His confidence was intense. It was like the middle-aged man had stopped caring about whether or not he lived or died. He raised one of his palms, which had been bisected and sewn together by thin wire, whispering underneath his breath, "stitch".
Immediately, his 'hand' became imbued with the 'stone' below, sharpening into a pointed blade. This was the forte, [Eternal Stitcher's Clarion]. Anything nearby could be bound to himself or other objects or living creatures in his vicinity. There were two main 'conditions' for [Eternal Stitcher's Clarion] to function. First, it had to be something that Mr. Willow could lay his eyes upon. If he could not see it, then it could not be stitched to something else.
The second condition was that he could reasonably carry the object he was trying to stitch, whether it be the target of the stitching, or the object he was trying to stitch to something else. While his muscles were reasonably toned, he was still a lean man. He could carry a handful of rocks, and so the stone remained able to be stitched to his hand.
Three other figures followed behind him. A woman stood at his right, an expression of seriousness etched onto her face. There was a tall, muscular man to his left, looking grim and professional, with intricate black tattoos stretching across his arms, neck, and face. Behind him, a teenage boy with a curious and amused expression glanced back and forth, obviously prepared for any excitement that would occur.
"Chara, Cole, Luck, it's time."
"Yes, Meister." They spoke in unison.
The professional muscular man tapped on one of the tattoos on his cheek, causing it to alight a bright red colour. It immediately reformed into a tangible object, and he grabbed it out of thin air. It was a small paper package filled with several powdered chemicals. His other hand reached outwards, pulling a firearm, an m1911, out of thin air. He threw the paper package onto the ground, shooting it with the pistol.
It immediately sparked up, pouring droves of smoke into the air around them. This caused the Lower Demon to look around, confused. In an instant, his prisoners had been taken away, he had been damaged and hindered severely, and the people that had appeared and attacked him had disappeared into smoke.
However, there was no time for Gremory to even try and consider what had occurred. In an instant, the woman with a serious expression blinked behind him, suspended in midair as she raised a silver-bladed sword into the air, swinging it in an arcing motion towards the Lower Demon's thick neck.
There wasn't even time for him to react to the woman, however. In the middle of the smoke, the teenage boy closed his eyes, crossing his fingers in an intricate manner, whispering underneath his breath, "phantoms, come forth".
A dozen spectral phantoms arose from the ground, clawing up to reach freedom from the soil. As soon as they arose from the earth, they found that several weapons had been dropped to the ground, dripping with black ink left over from the professional man's tattoos. They picked these weapons up, rushing out of the smoke on the younger boy's command.
Wielding these weapons, they swarmed around the Lower Demon, hacking and slashing at the flesh of his legs.
There was no need for communication between the members of the Reaper Team, Vanguard. They had already perfected their methods. They were too used to each other's abilities to need to say anything else except 'proceed'.
Looking Glass had already run past the Lower Demon, carrying the Moreau siblings on each shoulder to safety. However, a sudden commotion made him stop in his tracks. He turned his head, glancing at the ridge where the stream led from the interior quarry cavern.
Castrelle, weakened, also recognised this sound. Same for Quincy.
Castrelle had noticed that the cavern went deeper, but failed to explore it in lieu of his will to reach his comrades quicker. There was a fear etched into his chest that he didn't want to confront.
Where had the Titan Centipede come from?
Bugs lived in groups, didn't they? But he hadn't discovered any bug corpses in the cavern. So if that Titan Centipede had been able to survive after all this time, where had the rest of them gone?
Shrill screams filled the quarry pit, echoing from a short distance away.
On the ridge where the stream flowed from the cavern exit, dozens of gigantic carapace-covered centipedes emerged, letting their screeches ring through the air. The commotion of the battle had finally stirred the remainder of them awake, causing them to exit the depths of the quarry cavern.
Now that the prisoners had been evacuated, carried to the top of the cliff-face by Cicero's gates, only Reaper Team Vanguard remained, pinned between the dozens of approaching Titan Centipedes and the Lower Demon, Gremory.
Carrying both siblings, Looking Glass couldn't lift his rifle to assist. He gritted his teeth underneath the mask, pinned down by his limited options.
The members of Vanguard turned around to see this occurrence, and that gave Gremory just enough time to sweep forward with his uninjured hand, causing the summoned Phantoms to go flying. Then, using this moment given to him, he lurched forward with the remaining strength in his flayed legs.
It was certain that the members of Vanguard would be killed.
Looking Glass felt a pain in his arm. Quincy fell out of his grasp, having removed one of the crystal shards and stabbed him in order to release herself. She knew he would never have let her go. She instantly activated [Error State] lurching forward with her momentum, taking control of Gremory as soon as she closed the gap between them. She bellowed with the Demon's roaring voice.
"Five seconds! Run past and get to Cicero's gates!" Gremory's voice echoed through the quarry.
Realising this, the members of Vanguard began to run past the Lower Demon's legs. The professional and muscular man ran his hand past the fallen weapons as they ran past, instantly transforming them into pitch-black ink that ran up his arms, settling on his neck in intricate tattoo formations.
Quincy soon after deactivated her possession of Gremory, falling into the arms of Mr. Willow as they ran past. He looked down at her with a smirk. "I quite appreciate the help, Ms. Moreau."
She felt her strength wane completely, to the extent that she couldn't offer a response. She could only blankly stare back at the Demon with blurred vision.
Gremory tried to run after them as they neared Cicero's illusory gates. However, the Demon had sustained too many wounds to its legs. It faltered, stumbling forward and landing on the stone floor with a resounding 'crash'. Its massive form caused shockwaves to ripple forward, but the Reapers did not falter.
The Titan Centipedes closed in on the fallen Demon, diving forward as they began to gnaw at its flesh. It cried out in agony, reaching towards the fleeing Reapers helplessly.
"The forest… will kill… Tenebris…"
Vanguard and Looking Glass rushed through the illusory gates, being thrown out onto the cliff-face two hundred meters above the quarry floor. The other teams had gathered, overlooking the sight of the captor Demon Gremory being eaten alive by the Titan Centipedes.
Exhausted and in awe, they began to cheer. The Reapers that had been incapacitated by Gremory's ability had begun to recover slightly, and they joined in on the celebrations.
Castrelle, now sitting on the grassy floor of the cliff-face, let out a satisfied sigh. They had finally escaped the Demon's torment. As Looking Glass had promised, and as they had trusted, he had truly saved their lives. There was a severe loss, however. The man that had been killed during the battle had been Fare, the one who could control the metal flakes buried in the stone.
He had made good friends with this person during the expedition. His loss hurt Castrelle tremendously. He saw it as his own failure. If only he had acted a bit more brazenly, perhaps Fare wouldn't have died. It was definitely his job as part of Looking Glass's team to make sure nothing happened during their imprisonment in the quarry. He clenched his teeth, angry at himself, almost hating that he could feel satisfied that they had finally been saved when Fare could not feel the same anymore.
Next to him, Quincy sat in silence, trying to recover. Her body had become nearly frozen by fatigue, and she was in awe that she had not yet fainted from exhaustion. The cheers echoed around her, but she was more fearful of what sat ahead. She had been so taken by the idea of saving her brother that she had not given a single thought to the consequences that would come. She had endangered her comrades, and because of it, a person had died.
Although, that reckless plan of hers was only possible because of her co-conspirator.
As Quincy remembered this, she glanced around, eyeing each Reaper that had appeared above the surface. However, she came to the realisation that someone quite important was missing from those that had gathered.
The newest Reaper, Mercury Violet Mist, had vanished.