{REWORKING!} Saint Of Eternal Rest [Trash Of The Count Family]

etiquette of the deceased [1]

very important notes at the end,, this chapter is very short also, only 1k words unfortunately..

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"Well, we're back here again." Cale crossed his arms over his chest as he began his descent into a deep abyss-like space, which wasn't exactly all that unusual for him these days. However, the process continued to be as nauseating as it was the first time around despite the familiarity.

Hell, even meeting the God of Death once more wasn't all that unusual.

After their first meeting and the several after that, being in the presence of Death was of great normalcy - a weird sentence to even think about the longer Cale stood in this great darkness of nothing. It seems to the redhead that he could confidently say he now knows the god a little better than himself. That's a bit of a stretch, now that he thinks about it, but it's more of a metaphor, his mind tried.

"What are you thinking about?" The god asked, a cheshire grin laid carefully on his face.

Cale snapped to attention, his inner monologue drifting away. He laid his sights upon the man- no, god, head having to lift to great heights to stare up into Death's deep black eyes. They rivaled the same darkness surrounding them now, he observed.

"Nothing." He responded curtly before tilting his head to look down at the deep abyss underneath his feet. However, it proved to be a terrible idea when a sharp pain erupted at the back of his neck. The red-haired boy yelped, moving to rub at the sore spot - it must've been because of the angle his neck was in, he mused. Cale moved his neck softly, hearing a painful-sounding crackling caused by the movement. "Can you hear that?" He groaned in disdain, the soreness eating at him, "That's the sound of my neck breaking."

Death's smile only seemed to broaden before lowering himself to the boy's eye level, "Oh, I'm sorry, is this better, young master-nim?" He tilted his head coyly.

"Yes." He nodded, grateful now that he could face the god without suffering from a sore neck, fully ignoring the teasing tone. "I want something." With the way Death's annoyingly large smile kept growing, being straight to the point seemed the way to go this time around. Cale had begun to enjoy keeping their meetings short, keeping the god at arm's length in terms of conversations. It didn't make sense for questions to keep coming around when they both know Death can read minds.

Despite this, Cale continued to humor him, if only a little bit. "It won't be long till I have a teacher," He began, "Wouldn't it be ideal if I had someone with a considerable amount of knowledge about your church, no?"

Death hummed, tone teetering on curiosity, "I don't like to keep a keen eye on my believers. However..." He trailed off on purpose, a hand wafting the air around him. He moved to sit on the dark floor, crossing his legs over one another as he propped his hands up behind him. He looked casual sitting like that as if he weren't the God of Death. "If you want," Death began once more, "I can find a suitable priest for you."

It's a tempting offer, Cale mused, but wouldn't it be a tad bit suspicious? The redhead had been nonstop burying his nose into countless books related to absolutely anything and everything related to or mentioning Death for the past few weeks. Now, though, he would have a priest of Death who would be willing to teach him. It just seemed too much. Then, he heard a small chuckle. "What's so funny?" Cale huffed out.

"I will make sure they disguise themselves well." Death smirked, as if sensing the disturbance and the questioning, "And do not fret about others who are applying as well."

Cale nodded, he almost forgot the god could read minds. "I will leave it to you then." He shrugged, not having much control over it anyway.

"Do you not have anything more to say?" The god raised an elegant eyebrow as if challenging him to talk some more.