REAPER: The Young God

Chapter Four

As Captain Trent and his acolyte, Robyn made their way back to the Citadel, their anticipation centred around Royce's arrival. Trent's immediate concern was locating the man. Stepping into the Fifth Division barracks, their sanctuary within the vast, ringed dominion, they were accompanied by a floating, sizable essence shard, held aloft solely by Trent's power. He positioned it in the central garden, just at the entrance of their barracks. The division's living quarters spanned an expansive one hundred and twenty meters, slightly larger than a mortal realm soccer stadium. Countless reapers resided within Trent's division, yet he possessed an uncanny familiarity with each soul under his guidance, knowing their names and preferred pastimes. Upon the captain's return, every available member of the Fifth Division extended warm greetings to Trent and Robyn. In kind, Trent smiled and waved, responding to a barrage of inquiries regarding the shard's origin and purpose.
"I can sense Royce," Trent informed his acolyte. Robyn honed her senses, attempting to perceive the man's presence but to no avail.
"I'm unsure how you manage to sense him. Perhaps he's deliberately concealing himself from me."
"He's within my prison. I can feel the presence of every soul, every subtle movement within my cells."
As the captain of the Fifth Division, Trent served as the sole feral spirit reaper and also held the role of Prison Warden. Prior to his assumption of captaincy, the Citadel lacked a prison. The founding captains saw no need to confine souls, as it merely provided an opportunity for inevitable escapes. Consequently, any wrongdoers or criminals were promptly executed. However, following the disappearance of the founding captains and the Grim Reaper, numerous suspects emerged. Executing them would have been futile, as the current captains lacked leads on unsealing Grim's throne or uncovering the events surrounding the sealing of the Council of Five and Grim.
"And let's not forget the immensely powerful souls involved in that incident," Trent shared with Robyn. "To this day, three key individuals reside in my prison, awaiting the day they must answer for their roles in the disappearance."
These three souls were renowned across all reaping realms, with even demons and angels having had the misfortune of facing them in battle. Their power surpassed that of the current captains of the Citadel, who paled in comparison to the original Council of Five.
"I'll have a word with Royce," Trent announced, turning to leave the barracks.
"Just make sure you're not late. We both know how punctual our client can be," Robyn cautioned her captain, who simply waved her off before departing.

The Citadel's prison lay deep beneath the surface, hidden in the depths. Among the prison's many remarkable features, the design of its pathways stood out. Given Trent's ability to shapeshift into a snake, one might expect the prison to resemble either a burrow or a maximum-security facility. Remarkably, it embodied aspects of both. However, when viewing the prison's blueprint in its entirety, its structure resembled that of an ant nest. The architecture comprised nearly one hundred and sixty circular tunnels, spiralling downward like a snake's slithering path. With the assistance of another acolyte soon to be introduced, Trent utilized runic symbols to enforce the law of gravity within the prison. Every wall, even the floor beneath their feet, consisted of Niksonite — a hard stone only mastered by skilled weavers. This stone perpetually drained any essence within its vicinity, intensifying when in direct contact. Only individuals with swift essence regeneration within their core could withstand being near or touching the stone. Trent, unlike most reapers, hailed from the feral realm, where souls possessed unique core structures. Most cores continuously regenerated essence to sustain the body, provide vitality, enhance physical attributes, and unleash powerful attacks. However, souls from Trent's realm could solely absorb essence from their surroundings, similar to how a scythe absorbed essence and shared it with its wielder upon establishing a soul bond. In Trent's case, he had to consume an entire soul, allowing his destructive essence to decompose and assimilate its essence and core. A soul possessed only one core, housing a singular nucleus. Typically, scythes stored core nuclei, enabling them to generate more essence for their wielders. Scythes had no limit to the number of nuclei they could absorb. The same principle applied to feral souls like Trent. However, the secret behind how his people accomplished this, a rule attributed to Grim, remained an eternal enigma to all. Even Trent himself remained unaware of its workings or the number of nuclei he had absorbed since his creation. As the only reaper wielding a scythe from his realm, Trent, over two thousand years old, had yet to master the weapon fully. Nevertheless, he was recognized for his ability to reap souls through sheer strength alone.
"Hehe, well, I'm also quite adept at transforming my essence into a highly destructive force capable of eroding one's internal essence. Similar to some venoms, I can essentially dissolve you from the inside out," Trent confides to the reader with a chuckle.

As Trent traversed the forest within the Citadel, he approached the entrance to the prison—a colossal, doorless chasm. From the ground, the ceiling of the opening loomed eighty meters above. The entrance, however, was guarded by sentinels—statue-like creatures fashioned by Grim as protectors of the realm. Sentinels were impervious to all forms of essence, and only the might of Grim himself could vanquish them. Towering enough to navigate the prison tunnels, several more sentinels stood vigil within. These guardians could easily deceive onlookers, appearing as ordinary statues, only springing to action when directly commanded or when the realm faced the threat of annihilation by a god-level soul. Each realm—be it heaven, hell, the mortal realm, or any of the reaping realms—possessed a sentinel. Devoid of cores, their bodies were composed of niksonite. Engaging in combat with a sentinel was virtually a death sentence. How Trent managed to station two sentinels at the entrance and several more throughout the prison remained a secret known only to him. To this day, the captain of the First Division longed to uncover Trent's method of acquiring additional sentinels and how he commanded them. Within the Citadel, uncertainty prevailed over who currently held the title of the strongest living captain, but Trent was undoubtedly a close second. Among the reapers in the Citadel, tournaments were held to assess their strength in non-lethal duels, and the captains engaged in similar contests. However, the captain of the First Division consistently emerged as the victor, securing the title of the most powerful.

A cerulean light shimmered, enveloping Trent's body, expanding into a towering cone of essence that transformed him into a Naga. His upper torso and abdomen remained human, while his legs merged into the serpentine body. His scythe morphed into a trident. Spanning a length of two hundred meters from head to tail, Trent slithered through the prison, his every movement reverberating through its walls, alerting him to any activity. Apart from the three individuals, everyone remained confined within their cells. Trent's forked tongue flicked from his mouth, detecting lingering traces of Royce's essence, nearly absorbed by the stones. It indicated that Royce had been led through the prison not long ago. Trent arrived at the cell where Royce was detained—a dim, four-walled enclosure. In realms beyond the mortal realm, darkness represented the absence of essence, similar to the absence of light. Sensing each other within the prison proved exceedingly challenging for any soul. Niksonite stripped away essence but not cores, allowing Trent to sense the nucleus of every soul in his prison—an ability common to his realm.

"You seem to have settled in," Trent remarked, reverting to his natural form outside Royce's cell.
"I suppose I should thank you for sprucing up my cell," Royce replied from within.
"I'll accept your acknowledgement, but time is of the essence. What can you tell me?"
Royce proceeded to disclose a secret to Trent, leaving the captain stunned by the guild master's revelations.
"How certain are you about this?" Trent inquired once Royce finished briefing him.
"Sure enough to get myself arrested, just so I could speak with you privately."
Trent nodded, "Valid point."

Placing his hand on the cell door, the reinforced structure swung open. Royce stepped out, and the two men shook hands. Trent extended his hand to the side, tearing reality apart to create a rift. Through the opening, an image of a forest materialized.
"This will take you back to the city outskirts in the ninth realm," Trent explained as they bid farewell.
Before parting ways, Royce offered a final warning, "Be cautious, Trent. I don't know what's unfolding in our world, but something immense is approaching."
Trent sealed the rift and made his way out of the prison.