'Weaklings are dead weight, and nobody carries them.'
These words from Frey, the old man he met in Noah's estate, played in Halo's mind countless times.
He'd been dead weight before. The child, who was too naive and reluctant, always refraining from violence and worse, was timid enough to drag his best friend down with him. But in the end, it had only taken a fatal injury from his best friend to finally make him consider being helpful.
But in this world, such an approach wouldn't work. Besides, he knew he'd grown past such cowardly behavior.
It's been almost two days since he saw Seraph and Liam fight off Sinners with ease.
He'd started repeating his daily routine in his past life, and though he barely stepped outside of the castle, he was certain Liam and Seraph handled the Sinners who approached them effortlessly.
But amidst the silent night, Halo stood before the paintings of the legends who had previously lived in the castle.
There were about two dozen of the portraits, and each of them felt detailed and deliberate. He was familiar with the art of molding and carving, and he was familiar with the human body also… he'd been killing them for almost a decade now.
But this… this was outstanding. He had been in this castle for almost a week now, and though his eyes brushed on them from time to time, he didn't carefully examine them up close.
None of the portraits showed any signs of flaws. They looked too elegant and perfect. From the legends looks to the ink used for the painting.
However, something else had bemused Halo, which had dragged him out of his room that night.
The Galactic Castle or the Changing Malicious Solemn was said to be daunting the legends who lived in it. He had expected creepy hums or ghostly lullabies, but there wasn't a single thing about this haunting of the castle.
Saint once told him this world didn't bother with conspiracies, and despite the manipulative nature and malevolent intentions, she had no reason to be a blunt liar at that moment.
This made him believe that even if there were lies in the rumors, they still held some undisputed truths. But what could it be?
There should have been signs that each of the legends had lived in the castle before, but though there was nothing beside the painting, the portraits still held a mystery that puzzled him.
The paintings were identical, from the gentle brushes used to the texture of the canvas. But thinking about it, that wasn't possible.
Among the legends, he only knew one. Kysa. Though he couldn't tell which portrait belonged to her, every myth mentioned that she lived in the castle alone.
Nothing made sense.
The legends most definitely lived decades apart, if not centuries. If the system gave out a Purpose to paint the legends, it would have landed on different people. Even if they practiced the same style, there would still be some uniqueness that spoke for each artist.
"You can see it too, right?"
A tender and warm voice echoed from Halo's behind, prompting him to turn in its wake.
He frowned.
It was Seraph, wearing her usual cheerful expression. But that wasn't what baffled him this time. It was her movements.
Halo was lost in thought, alright, but with his senses, he should've noticed her draw in. Even a spiraling mind shouldn't have prevented something that close.
"I saw it too when I came around…"
Seraph stood by Halo, and they both began observing at the paintings.
"I've been painting since I was a child. I can tell when a piece is flawless. Every layer flows into the next. This is crafted by one hand, one vision."
Halo turned Seraph. He was glad he wasn't the only one to come to such conclusions, but her words also stirred another thought.
"Are you saying there's just a single person to paint all the legends?"
Seraph turned to Halo, smiled at him, and gestured toward a door to a room before them.
Halo was hesitant for a moment, but watching as she casually walked into the room, he followed.
The room held a similar design to all the lord's halls in the castle, but Seraph walked toward the bed in the middle of the room. Halo stared in confusion as she picked up something from the bed.
The color was uneven with tones of yellowed ivory, sepia, and dull gray, with patches darkened by oils, dust, and moisture. The edges were frayed and curling, and it had tiny holes and tears.
Halo's expression darkened as Seraph brought the sheet to him. It looked old. Very old with faded portraits and words etched on it.
But what remained was the number six, written boldly in black.
The moment Halo saw it, his eyes widened in shock.
In this world, its inhabitants barely moved with the flow of time, so those who bothered measuring it counted in centuries. There were clocks and the obvious rhythm of day and night, but these only governed daily activities. Months or years barely mattered.
But those who had something to preserve or tell spared themselves the stress and recorded time in centuries. So if his hunch was correct, the paper had existed six centuries after the castle was even built. And given how worn the sheet was, it too had endured centuries of existence.
"You get it? There's no way a Purpose like that could belong to just one person. But if it did, they'd have lived for centuries, and unless they had eternal youth, their skills should've grown rusty. But that's not the case here."
Seraph was right. It was rumored that Kysa had lived for centuries, and if that was true, then all the legends had similarly long lifespans.
This would make the artist more than a millennium old. It was possible outright, but it didn't seem practical to any of them.
Seraph walked toward him, her faded blue eyes darting at the sheet in Halo's hands.
"Looking at the sheet, it's clear this castle doesn't see us as its rightful heirs."
She gestured at an image on the sheet, which was undoubtedly a person's head.
"I believe the system would've made this place feel like a castle if we were more than its guardians. Or maybe the Galactic Castle itself has the power to do that. Either way, we're nothing but this castle's protectors, so it's treating us as such."
Seraph smiled and left the room. Halo remained calm and collected, but his mind raced. If Seraph's theory was correct, they would never truly know what the Changing Malicious Solemn was.
The Galactic Castle would never reveal its true nature to them.
He sighed.
This still didn't explain why the castle attracted Crawlers.