[Trustworthy] - [You are incapable of killing a creature with your own hands. Your promises can not be broken without dire consequences.]
The winds howled as if mocking this twist of fate, the shrubbery kicking its feet as wild crinkling came with it, the singing of the birds sounding not dissimilar to the caws of the crows he had only heard from advertisements and speakers in the Underworld.
For someone whose whole idea of survival hinged on lying, playing on emotions and using his cunning intellect to support him in reaching his goals, it was equivalent to cutting his arm of then asking him if he needed a hand.
He became pallid, his jaw dropping at the skies before screaming a very impassioned curse word.
'Damn it all! A death game where I can no longer kill? And that secondary part! No longer break a promise? How am I meant to frankly get out of this alive!? Where the hell is the logic!? What is this!?'
The situation, which was once against him, now turned downright dire. He already knew that there was bound to be a variable he couldn't account for the moment the Orbs trial started off so peaceful. From golden shrubbery to the majestic castle, everything was simply a hidden threat, yet no, he misjudged the danger terribly.
The real danger was the Orbs' Watchers! He was sure of it! Yes, they may have granted him a starbound weapon that solved the issue of at least being easy to kill. Yes, he may have absurd vitality now, his muscles literally rippling for once as a boy only far too used to being unable to lift weights over his weight. Yes, that sole factor would make up for the curse... yet he saw no duration on the curse! What point was there in strength that could not be used, could not be utilised?
With a grim expression, he stormed back to the blackwood castle, picking his spear up with his right hand as he approached the gathered men. It seemed those who were staring got broken out of their trance, just as he commanded. How strange that the number of forty men remained plastered in his mind.
"How many of us!?"
The green eyed member hesitated before speaking softly.
"Thirty-Seven of us."
As the green-eyed one spoke, the blonde one scoffed words under his breath.
"Prick."
Being incredibly in touch with his years of living in the backstreets, Paper's hearing was nigh-unmatched due to the constant need to listen out for danger. To think that the skill that had failed him twice during the Orbs trial would kick in only for him to hear those words, which made him blink in surprise.
Nobody but Paper heard this, and the spirit seemed to know this, shooting him a smirk. It... thoroughly confused Paper, however. Was it trying to spite him?
He ignored the blonde man as if he were a mutt barking, a small spark of satisfaction forming as he saw the blonde man glare at him.
He had a simple theory, after all. Formed off of the name of the man he killed.
Darren 'Justitia.'
It made itself painfully clear.
He took a moment to count the men himself, raising an eyebrow. There were only thirty-nine now. Forty in memory, but the number made sense.
The spirit didn't count itself as a human. Did it?
That made itself clearer now. But how does he cause an uprising without making himself the focus?
...have somebody else speak, instead. He pointed his spear at a large, bulky man. One of the three who vouched for him.
"And you? How much did you count?"
The man didn't hesitate in his answer.
"Thirty-nine of us."
How useful.
"Hm. It seems you miscounted, greenie." He shot a glare at the green eyed man, feeling a smirk crawl onto his face as the man withered.
The green-eyed man slipped away behind the blonde man before tugging on their sleeve. Paper frowned at their behaviour.
'It's... strangely submissive. Perhaps a green-eyed sub would be a better nickname."
Was the spirit trying to imitate human behaviours, or did each fragment of... the self, end up with its own personality? Or was it that their personalities were... unchanged? If that was the case, would a couple of two being possessed by the same spirit fragments kissing each other count as studying to the creature, or did they not realise? Or was it self-love? The thought was quite funny to think of.
The blonde man approached Paper with a loose glare, his demeanour filled with unnatural confidence. He noticed the people eyeing the man dangerously, the wind howling just a little less, the birds chirping lessening, and even the rustling of the golden leaves slowing down.
'Well. That feels familiar. But I can't be certain just yet. Not at all.'
"Well, then. You're leading. Yes?"
The blonde man's voice was harsh as he spoke, grating to the ear, yet it was the only source of noise left.
The man glanced between Paper and the archway of the castle entrance. A large, thick wooden door stood as its only guardian. It was an array of blacks and greys through its many perfectly arranged nails and defences.
'Also the perfect door to hide a bunch of unspeakable horrors.'
It didn't matter, however. If he wanted to recreate fate... Well, he hoped there were traps in there. A lot of deadly ones yet in such a manner only he'd notice it.
...as a note to himself, however, the people seemed to have forgotten about the portly rich pig that had led them temporarily. Wasn't Paper the one who killed him? Truly... it was strange.
Wasn't it? The pig wasn't featured in either count anyway. Almost as if he were forgotten.
But Paper remembered.
Walking to the harrowing gateway, he knocked on its door once, listening closely. He didn't hear anything but the nervous shuffling of feet far behind him... as well as a jostling sound of metal hitting metal, as it is from up above the door. It was not the best start, but it was already good he knew what was to come.
'If the door is moved, we may be met by a bunch of iron poles. Fun.'
From behind him, he heard a clash of weapons break loose, as well as the crumpling of another man, but he didn't notice or care again. Indifferent to it.
In fact, it wasn't even a body.
He clapped his hands together, bringing the thirty-nine men behind him, before looking at the blonde man. He quickly snapped out a command.
"You, blondie! Lead for now. I have things to check."
The blonde man blinked in surprise before groaning, rolling his eyes.
"Gee. Commanding much."
The other members of the crowd seemed casual with this interaction. Not one even found it strange. He let loose a quiet whistle.
'So, his role is to be a bit of a laid-back complainer... I bet he's meant to be holding back his anger, too. It seems he and the green-eyed one are aware of each other's roles.'
The blonde man lifted his hands to the door, trying to push it before frowning.
"...I need help."
Unimpressed, Paper walked to the back before assessing the door in its full glory. Unnoticed to him before, there were large extrusions located high on the door, about a few men in height above them. Grown men. It was a rough estimate, but the thing was that the extrusion also looked nothing like a door handle and instead like an elegant row of assorted patterns.
While he was inspecting it, the men grouped together, pushing against the gate with all their mights. The group of thirty-seven men started to push with all their might, groaning under the strain they put themselves through. Only the green-eyed sub didn't join in, staring at the men nervously.
Paper was now over to the left side of the door, inspecting the extrusion. To his shock, there did seem to be some sort of metallic contraption within it, responsible for opening the gate, he was sure.
... But he did need to make sure the men were weakened. The easier they were to kill, and the more desperate the last fight was, the more numbers he could wittle down. He needed to, anyway. Kill, without being killed.
So rather than point this out, he watched patiently, letting them tire themselves out as he walked over to the green-eyed sub who was also gazing at the panting mess of men. They all collapsed, falling to their knees, backs, and bottoms as a pool of collective sweat started to form.
Well, it was more of a patch.
Paper would have teased them had he not been in Aster's place, so instead, he decided to test a theory.
'There is more than one Assailant. Potentially. The fact that it said Darren Justitia when I killed the man should be sign enough... but they were also possessed. Possession makes someone registered as a beast... which means the green-eyed sub would be stronger than average.'
He casually tapped their shoulder, smiling warmly. As expected, there was no glare of terror from the man. The man was strangely... dainty. Compared to the other men, he looked like a nobles pampered son who somehow was studious by choice and not by force. He looked like he had led a happy life. Well, as happy a life a man donning leather armor coated with beast blood could leave. Not just that, he was only slightly taller than Aster's body, making it incredibly easy to talk to him. And so, he whispered.
"Help them open the door, or I'll tell them your role, Assailant."
The green-eyed sub paled, his mouth opening then closing then opening and then closing enough, with a few rapid nods, and walked off to the center of the door. His eyes trembled in fear as this was happening.
It was just that easy.
Purely because it was clear, neither he nor the sub wanted to be the subject of the Noble ladies rage when she did return. He had full confidence in her return after all. Who else would cut the building in half, if not her?
'Does everybody in the justitia family nod like dogs?'
He mused to himself as he looked to the side for a mere moment. Had he known what was to happen, he would've never looked away.
The green-eyed 'sub' braced his palms on the door, taking a deep breath in.
Paper was daydreaming about ways to negate the curse in any way.
The 'sub' pushed as hard as he could, using his protostar to empower himself.
Paper stared at the skies, quickly letting a curse fly at it. No response came, naturally.
The door cracked. The entire building rumbled as the 'sub' pushed with his full force, groaning under the pain.
Paper's head snapped to the source of the sound, watching in a cocktail mixture of fear and awe as the wall crumbled slightly, the door leaning backwards slightly... before falling on to the other side.
A thunderous crash burst through the golden forest as shards of marbled woods scattered spontaneously, leaving most the men reeling and fleeing with a similar expression on their faces. Eyes wide at the 'sub.'
'...Maybe he's not-?'
The green-eyed man smiled excitedly, his head whisking from side to side, searching for the blonde man, before something whistled through the air. Many things, in fact.
Before Paper or anybody else for that matter could react, an almost innumerable amount of sharpened, iron poles fell onto the green-eyed boy, killing him instantly as a few of his limbs scattered around.
「You have indirectly murdered a Dormant Beast, Fragment Of The Self's possessed vessel, Alber Lyra.」
「A tool binds to your star, forming the beginnings of a ring.」
Alber's hand ended up hitting Paper's foot, causing him to stare at the detached limb with quiet contemplation.
'Damn. That's rough, buddy.'