Chapter  6 Constellations Trials (1)

Stage 1 had ended. Some were lucky enough to survive, while others lost their lives in the brutal test.

"Congratulations to everyone who cleared this Stage," Verismon's voice boomed across the desolate landscape.

"My oh my, wasn't that some fun! It wasn't as exciting as the other Stages, but it was just barely enough to entertain me."

A screen flickered in front of the remaining survivors, displaying the grim summary of their first ordeal:

[Stage Summary: Remaining Survivors 50/100]

[Personal Rewards are being distributed...]

[You have killed 45,342 infected living beings. However, due to your inability to resist a penalty, your reward has been reduced to 1/10 of its original value.]

Tilus gritted his teeth as he read the message. "That's way too much! How can you rip me off like this?"

[You currently possess 226,810 coins.]

He scoffed. "It's not too bad, I guess. It'll get me through the early stages, but this system… still pisses me off."

Frustrated, Tilus picked up a rock from the ground and hurled it toward Verismon, the creature who presided over their trials. Just before the rock could make contact, an invisible shield shimmered into view, effortlessly blocking the stone.

"Now, now," Verismon said, floating down to meet Tilus' gaze. "Don't get cocky just because you survived. Your life is still very much in my hands."

Tilus clenched his fists. "Don't you think reducing my reward by 1/10 is a bit excessive?"

Verismon chuckled darkly. "You should be grateful I didn't erase an anomaly like you outright."

Tilus's eyes narrowed. "I doubt you can do that with the Constellation Trials about to begin."

"Oh, you're sure about that?" Verismon hovered closer, his eyes gleaming with malice. "Anomalies like you have happened before, and you resemble one in particular. Should I just kill you now?"

That guy? Who's he talking about?

"No matter," Verismon said, pulling back and laughing mockingly. "I'll spare you this one time."

He floated back into the air, his eerie laughter echoing through the ruins. "I like your attitude, human. I hope you survive long enough for me to see you quiver in despair, hatred, and pain. Hahaha!"

That bastard.

As Tilus seethed, a notification screen popped up in front of him:

[Several constellations are interested in you.]

The list of choices appeared:

The Hero of the Red Cloth Flag The King of the Roundtable The Holy Flame of Orléans One Who Opposed Fate 

Tilus stared at the names in astonishment. First, the Hero of the Red Cloth Flag—wasn't that Quang Trung? The legendary military genius from the Tây Sơn dynasty? Tilus recalled reading about him in the journal and of course I know this person from the history book. Known for his unparalleled strategies and combat prowess, Quang Trung had led his forces to improbable victories. His strength would be a formidable asset in the coming Stages, but Tilus couldn't shake the thought that even Quang Trung's might might not be enough against the looming disasters.

Then, King of the Roundtable. Could it be? Tilus's heart raced. The legendary King Arthur? The prophesied ruler who pulled the sword from the stone? If this was truly Arthur, he would bring immense swordsmanship and leadership to Tilus's aid. But Tilus remembered the stories of Arthur's later days—how the weight of power had drained his life and sanity, turning him into a tyrant. Still, the prospect of wielding Excalibur was tempting.

Next was the Holy Flame of Orléans. Tilus recognized this immediately—Jeanne d'Arc, the saint who had led France to victory against overwhelming odds. Her connection to the divine would provide powerful protection, but her powers were more defensive, grounded in faith. And living like a saint was not something Tilus felt inclined to do, no matter how potent her blessing.

Tilus's eyes lingered on the last option, "One Who Opposed Fate." Tilus's stomach dropped.

Isn't this... isn't this the power given to the main antagonist? Why would someone like this be interested in me?

From what Tilus remembered reading in the journal, this mysterious figure was one of the strongest characters ever mentioned. The wielder of the demonic power of the Qliphoth Tree—capable of toppling gods, angels, and even other demon kings—he was formidable, but the price was steep. His lifespan and mind deteriorated every time he used that power. The backlash was often as severe as the power he unleashed.

Tilus sighed, torn between the choices. "What should I choose?" he muttered.

"Hey, Tilus," Jasmine's voice broke through his thoughts. "What should we pick?"

He glanced at her. "Pick the name that resonates with you the most. I think that'll help."

"Huh?" Jasmine looked surprised by his answer.

Suddenly, the screen in front of Tilus shook violently. One by one, the options disappeared, leaving only one remaining.

The One Who Opposed Fate.

What the hell is this? Where did the other options go?

He stared at the screen in disbelief. Did Verismon mess with me again? No, he doesn't have that kind of power.

That left only one possibility. X. The mysterious figure who manipulated events from behind the scenes. Why would X put this lunatic in my path as a sponsor?

[Do you want to make a contract with the One Who Opposed Fate?]

"No, no, no," Tilus muttered. He clicked the 'Decline' button.

[Do you want to make a contract with the One Who Opposed Fate?]

"I said no!" Tilus grumbled, furiously clicking 'Decline' again.

[You have successfully accepted the contract with the One Who Opposed Fate.]

"What?! I clicked 'Decline,' not 'Accept!' Did you change the buttons, you son of a—?!" He kicked the dirt in frustration. "I'm screwed."

Before he could even process what had happened, Verismon's voice echoed in the air once again.

"Now that all of you have chosen your Constellation sponsors, you will be teleported immediately to a bonus trial. Wish you all luck"

A magic circle appeared beneath Tilus's feet. He groaned, dreading what would come next. "I don't like this."

As light wrapped around him, the world around him blurred, and he found himself standing in an unfamiliar city. No... not a city. A ruin. 

The buildings were shattered, most of them having collapsed into heaps of rubble. The sky was overcast, casting an eerie gloom over the landscape. Nature had begun to reclaim the ruins; vines crept up the sides of crumbling skyscrapers, and weeds sprouted from cracks in the streets. In the distance, an immense, gnarled tree towered over the destruction, its presence ominous and unnatural.

Shadows flickered in the mist, the faint outlines of ghostly figures hovering at the edge of Tilus's vision.

Suddenly, a figure emerged from the fog. Its face was unrecognizable, but the murderous aura it emitted was palpable. Every fiber of Tilus's being screamed at him to run.

[Survive for 30 minutes.]

"Survive... for 30 minutes? Against what? Him?" Tilus's voice cracked as fear took hold. There was no mention of this in the journal.

Before he could react, something whizzed past him, grazing his cheek. His heart raced as cold dread spread through his body.

I can't win this... Run. Run!

But his legs wouldn't move. They trembled, refusing to respond. The shadow figure advanced slowly, step by step, a floating magic missile hovering above its head, ready to strike.

Panicked, Tilus darted toward a nearby ruin, crouching behind an overturned car. But the shadow's missile tracked him relentlessly, making it impossible to stay hidden for long.

He waited for a momentary lull in the attack, then dashed toward another building. But as soon as he turned, the shadow was right in front of him. Tilus froze, staring into the face that had haunted him moments ago.

No... not just any face.

It was his face.

But older. Scarred.

"What is this?" Tilus whispered, his voice shaking. "What game are you playing, X?"

The shadow didn't answer. Instead, it tossed a sword at Tilus's feet.

"You want me to pick this up?"

Reluctantly, Tilus reached down, grasping the hilt. The sword was heavier than he expected.

The shadow charged. Its attack was brutal. With a single strike, Tilus was sent flying into a nearby wall, his vision blurring from the impact.

"This is bad. Really bad." He glanced at the timer floating in the corner of his vision.

25 minutes left?! Damn it, why is time moving so slowly?

He scrambled to his feet and tried to run, but the shadow was too fast. It appeared in front of him again and kicked him hard, sending him rolling across the ground.

"He's playing with me," Tilus thought bitterly, coughing as he struggled to stand.

The shadow kicked the sword toward him again, the clanging sound echoing through the empty streets. It was an old, cracked blade, worn and unimpressive.

"So you want me to fight you with this?" Tilus muttered, gripping the hilt once more. "Fine. Since this is just a trial, I'll get through it."

He raised the sword, ready to defend himself.

"Come on, let's dance."

But then, more shadowy figures appeared beside the first, all identical to the one that had been tormenting him.

"You can clone yourself? That's cheating!