88. Blood Festival

88. Blood Festival

The group of nearly 20 moved through a one-hundred-meter stretch of grass. The ominous carnival tune devolved into hideous screams of the tortured souls within the looming circus.

It was larger somehow. The spiraling colors of the circus animated like the imagery of a kaleidoscope. The hypnotizing display kept many glued to it as Frost kept her senses honed now that they had officially stumbled into a Monsoon risk-classification area.

The dungeon itself bared no other anomalous properties, and neither did its immediate surroundings called the Fairgrounds.

“Every dungeon has a certain proximity called a zone of alienation. Think of it like setting up an exclusion zone around the epicenter of a disaster.”

Except the dungeon does it for us. You can tell when you’ve stepped too close by the sound of those screams.

“Precisely.”

The deranged screams played in an oddly methodical manner. There were ups and downs in the melody and, to Frost’s shock, followed the same exact tune one would hear in a carnival. There was also guttural sound that mimicked an organ of all things.

How fitting for things that were known for snatching organs.

“What can we expect to find there?” Frost quietly asked her physical guidebook named Cer.

“You’re asking me like I’m an expert. Dungeons aren’t up to our speed. But it’s not like we don’t have experience.”

Cer began, folding her arms.

“Animal skins. Pretty weak when it comes down to it. Just don’t let them get under your skin~” She warned in a casual hum. “I mean it both figuratively and literally by the way.”

She clearly thought nothing of this dungeon. Neither did her sisters. A Monsoon threat was nothing for a Moon, let alone for Frost whose stats superseded theirs. But Frost was not one to underestimate any threat.

Never in this world. The screams alone indicated that something equal or perhaps worse than the Crimson Hunger lurked within. Furthermore, it was not just them who were going to destroy this dungeon heart.

Much weaker people were in tow as well.

“What she really means is that they’re notoriously cruel. They can bypass defenses if they manage to break your psyche.” Res added. “The RESIST stat plays a small role it since it’s more of a personal ordeal.”

“No need to worry when you can just punch the problems away.” Ber nodded to herself.

“That’s my go to method too. Nothing’s going to happen in these Fairgrounds, huh? Everything’s inside of that tent.” Frost noted, seeing zero changes occur aside from music that slowly grew louder with each step they took.

And now that Frost noticed it, the Express Network rail line intersected with the circus tent. With the news of train malfunctions and the like, she had to wonder if a train hadn’t already lost itself within the dungeon. But surely it would have appeared on the other side.

At least she hoped that would be the case.

“U-Um. Black Dove! Someone said you’re a healer! Is that true?” A woman called out to her from behind when they managed to reach the halfway mark.

It was here where Frost caught a glimpse of a large, almost gothic-designed booth built directly into the wall of the tent.

Its pale, shuttered doors were ominously sealed shut.

“That I am. I’m the only healer in this group of 20, so let’s all get along and try not to stray too far away.” Frost raised her voice, peering over her shoulder at the others.

The reaction was mixed for an unknown reason. It was not until someone else spoke up and revealed the source of their contempt.

“You’re a healer. Like you get to push us around.” A heavily armored woman scoffed, detesting the idea of being lead.

“The Golden Index recognized a healer as someone of a Radiant Rank? Higher even? What are you, a friend of theirs?” A man brought up, poking holes at Frost’s status. “... we waited hours just for you bunch?”

“A healer in black... the world already has the crazed healers in red. Now a weird bunch in strange clothes. And a maid of all things –?”

Frost inflicted them with Scrutiny, freezing all in place momentarily to bestow order in the group. With such a large number of people; talking it out without showcasing her strength beforehand was frankly impossible when their ego compelled them to be the top dog.

And dogs they were, incomparable to the mortal deities before them.

“So what? You had all that time to head into the dungeon. But you still waited.” Cer cruelly smirked, each following work spawning electric sparks. “Heh. Were you afraid to fight with your friends there? Thinking that with larger numbers you’ll have a better chance of surviving? Better them than us?”

“Such a brittle mentality.” Ber added.

“I tend to agree.” Res wore a serious face now having heard the uncooperative few in the back. “We apologize for the inconvenience.”

These people were truly no greater than maggots under the mud of their feet.

Frost then smiled at them once the effects finally wore off. They continued walking like newborn fawns, unable to comprehend the intense fear that overcame them. But it managed to solidify order amongst them.

Despite how tyrannical Frost appeared, she truly wanted nothing more than to help them.

ATT DEF : 200 MAG DEF : 200

“Bizarre... the Archivist states that even the Librarians are oddly similar in regard to her Library, and Inflow Direct to a certain capacity.”

So why is she telling us this now?

“... she says she cannot elaborate. For everyone’s sake.”

Tch. And this wasn’t important? What’s with everyone’s priorities in this world!?

“She’s sorry.”

Nav. Please try to get her to explain –

“She would rather not. It appears that she is incapable of this.”

Agh... even Carpalis admitted that they struck her as similar to themselves. But what does it mean?

It left Frost in a strange place.

She did not know the Archivist’s circumstances and only knew her through Nav and Jury. Jury didn’t seem to know the reason either, but what she did know was that certain books contained fragments of forbidden knowledge.

The contents of these were unknown, however.

“You three. The tickets. You don’t find it weird that this dungeon dispenses tickets like the Golden Index.” Frost spoke with intense edge in her voice.

“You know the story. ‘Haha, you’re one of the Jesters. How funny. The tickets are orange and used for the dungeon. Not that city of gold, silly~’. I hate them.” Res, once again, broke free from her usual serious demeanor and mocked those that dismissed her concerns. “Moons fight. We’re not investigators or here to really help people. We're supposed to stay up there in the Nexus.” She pointed her nose to the sky.

At the same time, Snap delivered the tickets to everyone at a blazing speed.

If it weren’t for their attires bursting around then they would have thought that the tickets were teleported into their hands.

“HEY! I’m wearing a skirt over here!” Cer yelled.

“Quiet down. Res. Why are they so dismissive?” Frost asked, finally receiving her ticket.

It was warm. Oddly warm. It held a similar warmth to the coins which she knew were supposed to be cold given that they were metal. Analyzing the ticket did not work unfortunately, leaving her hissing in frustration.

“You tell me.” Res muttered beneath her breath.

Frost, having no other piece of evidence to work from, let loose of a silent sigh before turning to the others behind her. And with a loud, commanding voice:

“Alright. Does everyone have their ticket?”

“Aye!”

“Let’s go already!”

“Yep!”

“Somehow... it just appeared in my hand.”

“Ready when you are. Gods, bless us here and now.” One prayed to the celestial deities.

It was almost humorous if it wasn’t so wracked with irony, because for all Frost knew, the Beholders were likely responsible for the uprising of the dungeons. She just did not know how, or if this was the truth for that matter.

Or perhaps, it may even be caused by an unknown Advent knowing that these things were capable of fundamentally shifting the direction of the world, to the point where entire eras were dedicated to them.

And with a steeled heart and an unquenchable thirst for knowledge, Frost brought her brigade into the corridors of the circus tent, tucking the ticket away as laugher could now be heard, alongside the melancholic ambience of screams.

The hallway made various twists and turns before they finally reached a strange place littered with countless, pristine mirrors. One lone, glowing orb brightly illuminated this vast room. So brightly in fact that it seemed to mimic the break of dawn.

What was worse was that this place was seemingly alive.

Status...

Room of Mirrors

Blood Festival

< Attraction >

ORIGIN : Impuritas

ATT DEF : 0

HP : 0

MAG DEF : 0

< CONDITION : The mirrors must not be broken >