The Survivor of the Sacrificial Festival
Ding.
With a jarring, unpleasant sound, an item description window popped up in the center of the screen in dark red font. The text was written in a gloomy, ominous style, like an old, damp epitaph pulled from the bottom of the abyss.
[Item: Invitation to the Voluntary Enlistment of the Abyssal Sacrificial Festival]
[Classification: Ritual Implement / Dimensional Travel Medium]
[Description: The hide of a grotesque beast salvaged from a mud pit in the outer universe where starlight never reaches. Someone has forcibly crammed the name of a living sacrifice and a terrible thirst into this hide. This is not a proposal, and for a mortal in a ruined world, there is no such thing as a right of refusal. The moment the invitation is torn, merciless red claws will bloom, snatching the flesh and soul of the victim onto the stage of the most miserable banquet. Poor silver-haired saintess. The scream she left behind was all too short, and the despair she poured out was woefully insufficient to satisfy the hunger of the abyss. May her blood and flesh serve as at least a tiny amusement for the Great Ones who walk between the stars.]
"What... the hell is this?"
I froze, my hand still gripping the mouse. The item description was as ominous and bleak as anything you’d find in a Soulslike dark fantasy game.
The fragmented information described in every line struck my brain, and the puzzle began to piece itself together into one horrific conclusion.
'The name of a living sacrifice. Merciless red claws. Snatching them onto the stage of a banquet.' Aria hadn't walked out on her own. She had been forcibly kidnapped—no, "voluntarily enlisted"—by something that had crawled out of this pitch-black scroll.
"Aigoo! Who the hell is poaching my apostle candidate and kidnapping her at the same time?"
I felt like my pride was being shattered into a thousand pieces.
Anger and bewilderment surged within me simultaneously.
"'Amusement for the Great Ones who walk between the stars'..."
As I muttered the phrase, my gaze naturally snapped to the other monitor.
That disgusting community where the Outer Gods who destroy and ravage Eden gather to plot their schemes.
Perhaps there was a clue or a bragging post related to Aria's disappearance in that den.
No, it was a foregone conclusion.
"Let's raid the gallery and find out who it is."
I gritted my teeth and began scrolling the mouse wheel on the right monitor downward like a madman.
"Ugh..."
Amidst a terrible sensation of endless falling and nausea, Aria forced her heavy eyelids open.
The first thing that stung her nose was the acrid smell of burning firewood and damp earth. Her vision blurred, then finally regained focus.
"Hey you. You're finally awake!"
As soon as Aria's eyes snapped open, the menacing face of a strange man with a thick beard lunged into the center of her vision. At the sound of his deep, gravelly voice, Aria recoiled in shock.
"A-ah! Who are you! Where am I!" Aria looked around, her face turning pale. She was in the middle of a bizarre, gloomy forest, completely blocked off by thick fog and pitch-black thorn bushes. In the center of the clearing, a single bonfire crackled, lonely and dim.
Aria's gaze swept around the bonfire. Including the bearded man who had just spoken to her, there were seven people huddled together, relying on the firelight.
What was surprising was the composition of those seven. A blonde elf with pointed ears, a large beastman with horns and tails, an old dwarf merchant laden with heavy luggage, a young human boy, and someone dressed in what looked like mage's robes. It was a perfectly fragmented combination where not a single commonality—race, gender, age, or attire—could be found.
"Calm down. We have no intention of harming you," the bearded man said, raising both hands in an attempt to reassure her. "My name is Ralof. As you can see, I'm just an ordinary hunter barely surviving in this godforsaken world abandoned by the gods. Where did you come from, and how did you get here?" he asked, tossing another dry log into the fire.
"I... I was in my room, safe and sound..." Aria clutched her throbbing temples, tracing the memories of that horrific final moment. "A pitch-black leather scroll fell from the sky, and when I opened it, red tentacles burst out and forcibly swallowed me. When I came to, I was here."
At Aria's answer, Ralof clicked his tongue with a bitter expression.
"As I thought. It seems you were dragged into this hell in the same way we were."
He pointed his chin toward a tiny scrap of a torn, pitch-black leather scroll lying at his feet.
It looked like a piece she had barely managed to claw off with her fingernails before being dragged away.
"The seven of us gathered here—well, eight, counting you—were all caught in this terrible trap, this 'Abyssal Invitation' or whatever it's called. I was just hunting in the forest when I happened to step on that scroll, and look at me now."
Ralof sighed and scratched his head. Aria looked at the strange strangers around the bonfire, unable to believe it.
"Then... where on earth is this? Is it a forest in Eden?" At Aria's desperate question, Ralof shook his head. "Who knows. I've only been here a few hours, so I don't know the details. But one thing is certain: this isn't a normal forest in the Eden we knew. The whole place is blocked off by transparent walls or thick fog, so you can't take a single step outside a certain area."
He jerked his chin past the ominously burning bonfire.
"It would be better to hear a detailed explanation from that dark elf woman sitting over there. She's the most senior among us."
Aria's gaze turned to the corner opposite the bonfire, where Ralof had pointed.
There, a dark elf woman with ash-gray skin like obsidian and pitch-black hair sat with her knees pulled to her chest, wrapped tightly in a cloak. Her entire body was covered in deep, unhealed beast claw marks and horrific burn scars.
Even in the warmth of the bonfire, she was trembling like an aspen leaf. She looked frail, as if she might break at any moment. However, Aria could feel a fierce, unyielding will to survive and a fighting spirit deep within her hollow purple eyes—a spirit that burned intensely despite having been crushed and trampled.
The dark elf stared blankly at the bonfire's flames for a long time before turning her head to gaze at Aria.
"Name?" The hoarse, cracked voice echoed through the clearing.
"I am Aria," she replied, swallowing hard, feeling tense.
"A high-ranking member of the Order of Light..."
"Yes, yes. A nun serving the God of Light... or rather, a saintess, obviously. I can tell just by looking at your clothes," the dark elf interrupted, waving her hand dismissively.
Aria was flustered, but she nodded nonetheless. "That is correct. Although the world is walking the path of destruction, I am praying earnestly for Him to bring light to our dark times once again."
At her sincere confession of faith, the dark elf's lips twisted grotesquely.
"Light? Ha!" She let out a scoffing, mocking laugh. "The gods are dead. The gods are rotten lies. There is no such thing as light here, little saintess."
Aria's eyes wavered at the blatant, blasphemous mockery. She opened her mouth to rebuke her disbelief and defend the power of God, but no voice came out. She had no right to comment on someone else's faith when her own had been shattered just hours ago, succumbing to the taste of fried meat tossed to her by an Outer God.
Aria kept her lips tightly sealed, maintaining a quiet silence. Perhaps feeling a bit awkward at the silence, the dark elf cleared her throat and adjusted her sitting position.
"I apologize for the insult just now, Saintess. My name is Claudette. I'm just a vermin-like survivor who barely managed to keep my life and escape from that terrible slaughterhouse—no, the sacrificial festival—beyond that fog, just before you lot arrived."
At Claudette's self-deprecating voice, the eyes of all the survivors gathered around the bonfire turned to her.
"You must have many questions, right? Anyway, that stupid human and the horned beast next to you will all be called back into that slaughter game together once the fog gate opens... I told you before, but I'll explain it clearly one more time."
At Claudette's words, the large beastman sitting next to her swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing.
"The process of how I ended up here is the same as yours, so I'll skip the tedious and pedantic explanation. Anyway, eight of us survivors, including my comrades, were forcibly dragged into this hell... and that nightmare began in the ruins where bizarre devices were scattered, revealed after the fog lifted. Those bastards didn't give us any merciful explanations or rules."
Claudette bit her nails, tracing the horrific memories of that time.
"But as I ran for my life, I realized the rules were surprisingly simple. Scattered throughout the ruins are giant waterwheel-like devices made of large wooden gears. We have to get inside them and pedal like crazy to turn the waterwheels."
She continued, staring blankly at the burning flames of the bonfire.
"If you turn those waterwheels, I don't know the principle, but with a creaking sound of metal, a red, blood-like liquid is poured into giant steel gates through pipes connected to the devices. Once all eight wheels scattered throughout the area are turned perfectly... finally, a giant heartbeat echoes from the steel gates, and the heavy doors open. Then, you just have to run through that open door into the darkness to escape back to this safe zone where the bonfire is."
Aria swallowed hard and asked cautiously, "Then... is that it? Can we live just by turning the waterwheels? Then where are the other seven people who were with you?"
Claudette twisted her face at Aria's naive question, showing a bitter and grotesque smile.
"Yeah. Of course, that's not the end, Saintess."
She pulled back her cloak, revealing the deep burn scar on her shoulder.
"While we turn those things, a terrible hunting dog that roams the fog forest is unleashed. If we make a creaking sound by mistake while turning them, the beast hears it like a ghost and comes running like a monster. All seven of my comrades were torn limb from limb by the grotesque weapon the beast wields, or were pierced alive by its giant, demonic hands and offered as sacrifices. I am the only one who escaped that gate alive."
A suffocating sense of despair completely swallowed the warmth of the bonfire. Aria and the survivors were gripped by the premonition of the impending slaughter, unable to say a word, only exchanging terrified glances.