The night sky stretched up above, sparkling with stars and illuminated by a radiant moon. It cast its gentle light upon stretches of dry earth, at the center of which were small mounds of dirt.
Amidst the mounds of packed soil lay a rectangular open ditch. Within it, a darkness seemed to churn, until suddenly, a pair of glowing eyes opened, piercing out through the dark.
These eyes shone like amber in the sun, blazing from incandescent patterns coming to life within their mud-brown depths. Within the corneas, intricate golden hexagonal patterns blossomed to life like dizzying pieces of divine artwork, punctuated by piercingly bright golden dots at the center of the eyes.
*Badum!* *Badum!*
Rainer's heart began beating, and he stirred. Ice seemed to flow through his veins as a deep numbness enveloped his body.
He glanced around in the dark, striking eyes drawing golden streaks in the air that faded.
Surrounding him was caked soil and the thick, damp scent of humus. And above him, a near-rectangular view of the stunning night sky was visible.
Rainer opened his mouth to comment but a sudden coughing fit seized him.
He attempted to sit up, but his body felt as stiff as tree branches. Rainer couldn't help but let out an annoyed groan.
'Hells! This body has been dead for at least an hour! What was Era thinking when she sent me here? Damn, did I tease her too much?!'
He tried to move again but groaned in agony.
At that moment, however, his body emitted a soft golden aura, and he felt the pain begin to dissipate. He could feel cosmic energy surging through his veins, bestowing a rejuvenating warmth as his joints grudgingly unlocked.
He sighed in relief and laid back down.
'Hah~ The transmigration healing factor. A gimmick that activates every time I inhabit a recently deceased body. It restores the body to full health from whatever had caused its death... Unfortunately, Era ensured it only happened once after coming to life. Quite a stingy girl, that one.'
Rainer raised an arm and noticed that it felt significantly less painful and rigid.
'Although this body doesn't seem too injured—given how long it has been dead, it might take a little while to recover from the effects of rigor mortis.' He idly pondered this as the corners of his eyes tightened.
Although he hadn't wanted to dwell on it too much, he felt something was off about this place, like it wasn't meant for the living.
The aura of death was heavy here and he didn't like it.
As an entity with a cosmic soul, he was extremely sensitive to such metaphysical cues. Even though his powers were nearly nonexistent in his human form, detecting things like this had always been easy for him.
'Where am I exactly?'
He wondered, feeling the cool earth beneath him and breathing in the fresh scent of moist dirt. Suddenly, a strange sense of déjà vu washed over him.
'Wait... the last time I felt this way was—oh! Yea! A few transmigrations back! When I was buried alive?! Oh, shit! This is a grave isn't it!'
*Chik!* *Chuk!*
Suddenly, he heard the sounds of shoveling above, accompanied by muffled grunts. Soon a cascade of loose dirt fell onto his thighs, followed by another pair landing on his chest.
Rainer's eyes widened, and he cursed under his breath.
'Oi! Hold on! I just got here!'
With great effort, he rolled over and pushed himself up on all fours. Stiffly, he crawled to the side and tried to pull himself up to his feet as dirt continued to rain down. Suddenly, a clump of loose soil hit him in the face, causing him to fall to his knees as he blew sand out of his nose.
'Damn it all! If my throat didn't feel like a squeezed-out juice box, I would have given whoever was up there a good scolding!'
–––
A few moments earlier, two men sat on the ground surrounded by large mounds of dirt, symmetrically heaped across the landscape. One was a youth of around twenty years, and the other was an older man in his thirties. They were both garbed in loricae hamatae, and their hobnailed sandals were caked with loam.
The man raised a piece of hard bread to his mouth and took a bite, chewing wildly; the contents of his mouth churned before the youth.
If the youth's expression hadn't been sour before, it definitely was now.
His brows furrowed slightly.
"You shouldn't eat here, Cormac," He warned in a low, harsh tone, and his dark eyes swept intensely across the mounds of soil. "You might offend the spirits of the dead!"
At this, Cormac chuckled, throwing the last of his hard bread into his mouth.
"What is this, Kotys? Have you taken on the beliefs of Rome? How ironic! What?! Do you think the dead would break out and crawl toward us seeking vengeance?!" Cormac mocked.
However, as if sensing something, Kotys whipped his head around, inclining his ear toward the pit where they had just placed the dead slave.
"Hush! Cormac! I think I heard someone coughing!"
Cormac trembled now, hardly able to contain his laughter.
He struggled to his feet.
"Haha! You never cease to amaze me, Kotys. Does your father know you're a coward?"
Kotys shot Cormac a hard glare, but he was unmoved and continued.
"The only ones here are you, me, and... him."
Cormac's expression became uncertain as he gazed at the slave boy in a long white tunic walking toward them from their military camp. He seemed to think of something, and at once, a wave of anxiety gripped him.
"Get up, Kotys! That's Lord Praefect's favorite slave! He's definitely here to spy on us since we are taking so long!"
Kotys leaped to his feet with an annoyed expression, muttering something under his breath as he moved to retrieve his shovel on the other side of the pit.
They quickly began shoveling soil down into the pit as the slave boy drew closer.
The boy's features soon became distinct.
He was a handsome—if not somewhat pretty teenager with a head of short, wavy, golden blond hair that paled under the moonlight. His sea-blue eyes gleamed like gems, and judging by his unblemished fair skin along with the brightness of his tunic. It seemed apparent that he was well taken care of by his master.
The boy soon stopped and greeted the soldiers deferentially.
"Miles, please wait! Under permission from Domine, I have come to pay Charon's Obol."
He informed them, taking out a silver coin from his waist pouch.
Kotys had a surprised expression, and Cormac gasped, eyeing it with greed.
"A denarius!"
However, his attention was soon diverted when he felt a strong, cold grip around his ankle.
He frowned and looked over at Kotys with a perplexed expression. On the other side of the pit, Kotys stood, appearing deathly pale as his eyes, wide with alarm, stared down at Cormac's feet.
Cormac froze, and slowly looked down. What he saw made his mouth drop open.
A slave monster clung to his ankle, using his leg as leverage to claw its way out of the unholy depths. When it looked up at him, its glowing eyes filled with intricate golden patterns, capturing his gaze hypnotically.
A shudder ran through his spine.
Cormac, son of Arturi, was a proud Celtic warrior; little terrified him, at least not to this extent. Now, an icy horror, so profound gripped him emotionally and literally.
With a shriek, Cormac stepped back, throwing his shovel away as he fell hard on his backside.
"Hey! You piece of shit! You got sand in my mouth!" Rainer yelled, but due to his sore throat, it came out as barely discernible snarls.
Cormac shook his head in denial, sweat rolling down his face.
"No! Daemon! Do not drag me away! Lugh, protect me!"
Suddenly, he kicked out and freed his leg.
Immediately, he turned on his heels and sprinted back to camp, yelling at the top of his lungs.
"Daemon! The slave corpse walks!"