As she looked down from on high, Lyrhea felt a sense of exhilaration unlike any that she had felt in quite a while. The number of guards and patrolling idiots had dropped substantially, and as if that was not enough of a cause for pleasure then there was also the fact that the nearby flora looked even more sickly than it had before.
“Too damn long…” said the Lyrhean as she looked at the object of her ire. The shrine was practically undefended and the defenders that were there at all looked like they had seen better days.
It had been a full week since she had killed that man during the downpour that night, and his discarded body had done more in that short time than her pots full of venom had done. This was a matter of irritation for her, but it had helped in the end, and she was now nearing the point where she felt that she could finally storm the Shrine.
But before she could do that, she needed to prepare one last set of annoyances for her opposition. If she ran in and left the town alone in that time she would no doubt emerge to and find herself surrounded by very angry townspeople and no shortage of vengeful fauna as well. That would be unacceptable, and as a result, she needed t give them other things to think about.
And so the next few days and nights passed as Lyrhea plotted and prepared, gathering materials while avoiding the gazes of any and all that she could, all with the intent of making the night of her assault a night that any survivors would never, ever forget…
…
As she set the last piece of her trap in place, Lyrhea looked over to the shrine and smiled. The past few days had been exceedingly dry and windy, and today was no exception. This was the perfect weather for what she had planned, and once night fell she would make a nuisance of herself in more ways than one.
She tipped a lantern over and walked out of the room, leaving the kerosene to leak out slowly onto the floorboards of the wooden house. She crept to the window and pulled herself out of it and then scaled the side of the building’s third story to its roof before slowly pulling a few of the tiles off and punching holes in the wood underneath with her knives.
From there, she slathered a bit of tallow that she had stolen and stored inside of a bag into those holes and then stuffed a bit of thatch o top of them before carefully placing the tiles back and scampering away back to her hiding spot in the embedded building.
Tonight, the town would light up and be filled with activity for the first time in what she assumed was quite a while. Though maybe it wouldn’t be the lights and activity that the people who lived here expected.
…
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The smell of smoke would have woken those who smelled it from their sleep, but as of late, they had all been overcome by lethargy and a general weakness of the body. They had, by this point, known that something was wrong and had begun their attempts to find the source, and yet these had always turned up nothing.
Now the vast majority of the townspeople were tired, weak, and sick, and most of them could barely muster the strength to get out of bed, let alone try and fight the fire that was beginning to grow in intensity. One by one, each wooden house caught fire, and each person within either died by the flames and their effects, fought off the deathly weakness that had taken them and escaped, or accomplished half of the second option and then tried to fight the growing inferno.
Those that tried to fight back were fewer than was needed, though, and the flames began to rage harder and faster. The walls of the town, towering wooden constructs that the Harvest God had made for them, were now a cage keeping them confined in a rapidly burning cremation pit of their own making, and the heat only grew and the smoke only choked more life out of everyone and everything as the night went on.
And while the defenders tried to fight the inferno or evacuate those who could not rise and run or fight, a single silent figure stole through her foes as a ghost that was both seen and heard, but never truly noticed. That figure, cloaked in odd attire, joined the many who were running towards the shrine to protect it and keep the firestorm from reaching the place where their God’s avatar resided, though the many humans there did not notice as that figure stole past them and made its way inside the one lace that no adult was ever allowed to go.
…
Lyrhea coughed a bit as she slipped inside of the shrine and down the stairwell that twisted and turned in upon itself. She had taken full advantage of the hell outside that she had created, and even now the attention of everyone, likely even the Forest Guardian, was directed at any place other than where she was right now.
If her time spent reading novels and watching films had taught her anything, though, it was that the best-laid plans of mice and men go oft awry. She fully expected things to go sideways, and she had come to terms with that.
Either she would win here and survive, win here and die, or just plain lose here and die. Those were the only options, and she would need to work fast to have the hope of it being the first option that would be the one she got to experience.
She hoped that things would be better once this was all said and done, and she hoped that this would be a quick, easy, and very quiet assassination. But, unfortunately for Lyrhea, none of that would come to pass as her task suddenly became far more difficult.
She made it to the bottom of the stairs and took a few steps into the underground cavern before a screen popped up and a deep whooshing sound came from behind her. She wheeled around and swung at whatever was behind her with her knives hoping to slash an artery or at least cut some meat, only to see a wall of light blocked her exit and that besides that being there nothing else stood between her and escape.
She hissed in anger and looked at the screen, hoping for what he feared to be the case to not be so, but was left with a sinking feeling at the announcement that had been made.
You Have Entered the Blood-Hungry Harvest of Sacrifice Dungeon
You may only leave when you have cleared the Dungeon.
“One massive edgelord of a Harvest God is what we have here…” Lyrhea said, trying to improve her mood. It worked. Barely. She was still going to have to fight for her life, though, and that was a bother and a half. “This is gonna be a pain….”