"Do you really want to know?"
"Of course."
"Ha... then I'll reluctantly tell you."
Under Castorice's puzzled gaze, Yan Huan planted his hands on his hips and said smugly:
"We came here and kept watch over this festival for one reason: to kill Nikadori!"
After thinking for a moment, Castorice added:
"Yes... we received intelligence that the deranged Titans of Strife was forging itself an immortal body."
"If it isn't stopped, it will pose an enormous threat to Amphoreus in later ages."
"Hmph, a threat..."
Gnaeus said to the two of them:
"Our objectives do not conflict. Find the Titan, and each of us can take what we need."
"Yes." Castorice nodded.
"The souls of the sacrifices still wandered this hall... Their meaningless deaths had wronged them, and their cries never ceased."
"Perhaps I can hear something from them."
Under Yan Huan and Gnaeus's watchful eyes, Castorice walked toward the contestants' corpses.
"Appear, souls of warriors. I know you have not found peace."
"Guide us. Let us see what you saw, hear what you heard..."
Gnaeus asked curiously, "You can summon the dead?"
"No..." Castorice shook her head. "All I can summon are souls that have not completely died."
"Those who could not rest... tell us, what did you hear?"
Castorice raised a hand slightly. Countless death butterflies flew from her shadow, taking the forms these people had worn in life.
"Do we really not need to dispose of them?" The phantom soldier scratched his head. "The stench here... has already become unbearable."
"No. Did you not hear clearly?" the phantom priest rebuked him.
"This is part of the ritual, an offering to the Titan."
"I know..." The soldier's expression turned grave.
"Keep welcoming challengers. Make them fight without end... Only by immersing Nikadori in the scent of strife can