[Main Mission Countdown: 00:03:44][Summons Enforcement Imminent][Failure to Appear: Class Lockout, Spirit Drain, Forced Banishment]
[Warning: Spirit Lords have dispatched seekers.][Cloaking Veil Status: Weak. Reaper Signature is rising.]
They reached Ghosthollow's northern gate just as the last of the ward-torches burned blue.
At first glance, the city appeared abandoned. Gates stood open, guards nowhere to be seen, but Ren could feel it—eyes. Watching. Breathing. Hundreds, maybe thousands, of them. Spiritual signatures flitted just outside his natural perception like whispers beyond a veil.
The streets were paved in pale bricks, each inscribed with a name. "The Dead walk here," Aria whispered, reverent. "But they remember."
The closer they got to the central tower—the bone-white monolith in the city's heart—the heavier the air became. Ren's skin itched. His lungs dragged. His soul wanted to crawl out of him.
"Is it supposed to feel like this?" he hissed.
"You're not bound properly yet. The city's wards are trying to decide whether to recognize you… or reject you."
"…Reject me how?"
"You'd liquefy."
"…Cool."
The monolith rose five stories tall—no windows, no banners, just a single obsidian door carved with twelve glyphs. When they approached, the door peeled open, like black stone melting away.
They entered a chamber shaped like an inverted pyramid, each tier hosting figures seated in meditation, draped in bone-white robes with silver masks. Twelve total. At the bottom, a single stone dais floated, etched with runes older than language.
[Area Identified: Soul Tribunal Nexus][High-Density Spirit Pressure Detected – Warning: Overexposure may rupture core integrity]
Ren barely kept his footing. His legs trembled as he stepped onto the dais. The system tried to buffer his soul from the pressure—it worked, barely.
Then the Council spoke.
Twelve voices, layered in perfect unison, ancient and cold:
"You bring a Reaper into Ghosthollow, Aria Lin."
Aria bowed low, her cloak spreading like ink around her. "I do."
"Was he chosen?"
"He survived the Waking Trial. The System bound to him autonomously. He claimed the Path of the Shepherd."
A pause.
Then, a wave of presence descended like a tidal weight, slamming into Ren's mind. He staggered forward, nearly vomiting, as invisible hands tore through his aura, reading his memories, his soulprint, his intent.
[System Interference Detected. Executing Counter-Scrying Script...]
[SUCCESS – Soul Invasion Partially Blocked. 63% integrity maintained.]
Ren gasped, his eyes flashing. "Back. Off."
The pressure vanished.
For a second, the room was dead silent. Then one of the Council figures rose slightly.
A woman's voice. Smooth. Icy. Calculated.
"You resist soul scrying. Impressive. Reckless, but impressive."
Another leaned forward—deeper voice, rasping with age.
"That sickle… it bears a Curse Line older than this continent."
Ren held Ashfang tighter. "You want to test me? Say so. Don't play parlor games."
Even Aria looked over, surprised. Bold.
The woman stepped down. Her mask cracked slightly—revealing part of a face untouched by time. Skin white as paper. Eyes glowing with layered glyphs.
"You speak of testing. So you will be tested."
They didn't waste time.
Beneath the council chamber, a pit waited—circular, scorched, and echoing with unclean whispers.
"The Soul Trial," Aria said quietly. "Most Reapers don't survive their first."
Ren stood on the edge. "What is it?"
"A fracture. A shard of spirit realm collapsed into ours. You'll be dropped into it for five minutes. Alone. No system guidance. No weapon bonding. No skill prompts. It's just you. And your ability to exist."
"And if I fail?"
She looked at him evenly. "You won't leave a corpse."
The world shattered around him.
One moment he stood in the pit. The next—void. Endless dark. Yet not empty.
The space was alive. Twitching. Laughing. Hungry.
[Soul Trial Initiated.]
[Restrictions: Class Seal, Weapon Nullification, Companion Lockout]
[Objective: Survive.][Time Remaining: 05:00]
Ren's breath caught. He floated weightless, no ground, no sky—just darkness stitched with pulsing red veins.
Then something moved.
A being rose before him—massive, hunched, blindfolded. Its body was made of mourning ropes—those funeral threads soaked in blood. Chains dragged behind it like roots.
Its face twisted in a thousand directions. A mask of grief.
"YOU... WHO STOLE THE NAME OF DEATH..."
It struck.
Ren twisted midair, instinct kicking in. No weapons. No powers. But his soul responded.
He raised his hand—and the memory of Ashfang screamed through him.
Not the sickle itself. Just its hunger.
And hunger was enough.
A shard of soul-force erupted from his palm—a jagged, black crescent—and sliced the creature's attack in half.
[Reaper Instinct Awakening Triggered.][Prototype Skill Manifested: Hunger Shard Lv. 0][Trait: "Spirit Defiance" – Passive resistance to unclean spirit coercion]
Ren roared, throwing himself forward. No strategy—just raw, vicious will.
The being lunged. They clashed in silence, weightless and howling, like shadows slashing through each other's existence.
Seconds stretched. Pain flooded Ren's veins like fire. But each time the being struck, he struck back harder.
At last—one clean blow. He rammed his hand into the creature's chest and released every drop of spirit rage.
[Target Banished. Soul Trial Completed.]
[Time Remaining: 00:22]
He awoke on the stone floor of the council chamber.
Breath shallow. Skin steaming. Hands still trembling.
But he was alive.
And the Council—silent now—stood.
The woman descended fully this time, walking toward him. She placed one hand on his chest, and a mark burned itself into his skin.
A glyph of shadowed bone. The Reaper's Seal.
"Lin Ren," she said clearly. "The Council recognizes you. You are now a Reaper Candidate of Ghosthollow. Your soul belongs to death, but your choices remain your own."
The others bowed their heads in eerie unity.
"Welcome to the Hunt."
[Main Mission Complete: Earn Recognition from the Pale Council][Reward: Spirit Chain Slot +1, Class Skill Upgrade – Soulbrand Legion Lv. 2][Trait Gained: "Eye of Defiance" – Increased resistance to mental domination and spiritual illusion.]
As the glyph finished searing into his chest, Ren didn't smile.
He just whispered:
"Good. Because I'm just getting started."