We breathe violence and swim in blood, that’s just how humans are… Or was it just Dantes?
Most likely not — for he had prepared a counterpoint:
During the Heisei era of ancient Japan, it was common for foreign invasions to occur due to the instability of the Chokusen government after incidents revolving around the child emperor Shinikangaidome “The Scissors” Hanazai Junior (1209 ~ 1220) being puppeteered by his grandmother, Kikyoyonojimai “The Paper” Choso (1158 ~ 1221) and the resulting conspiracy. After the child emperor’s father, Shinkanhaidome “The Rock” Hanazai (1190 ~ 1216), mysteriously perished in the years following his brother’s exile, the last remaining force within the castle in opposition of the witch’s influences, the kingdom faced a dark century, also known as the “Mystery Hour” due to the obscured nature of its history.
However, one thing is clear: the “Mystery Hour” stands alone as the most brutal period time in the history of Japan, even more so than during WWIII, as during the “Mystery Hour”, the Mongols, Chinese, North Koreans and the Jamaicans all vied to make a profit of the tragedy at Osaka.
What were the common folk to do? All they could do was to run, and to run they needed a warning.
Therefore, a solution was quickly found: a lookout tower. When enemy forces were spotted approaching, the villagers would hide in a nearby forest — all evenly dispersed. They became indistinguishable from the familiar nature — became one with it. Even though many survived this way, many still never returned — they were too good at hide-and-seek.
Other than the lost soldiers of the time, the greatest loss was psychological. While they lived, many survivors witnessed the brutal murders, the pillaging, the no-nos and nope-nopes. Tales of terror spread like wildfires-in-Australlia across the cities of Tokyo, and soon, the most common sound of ringing — created using the default iPhone ringtone — became the anguishing groans of ghosts, the ominous galloping of the white horse, and the theme song of the Grim Reaper.
People killing people because people killed people. History is covered from head to toe in filth and guts, and it is simply a reflection of the people, of the people’s actions.
We breathe blood and swim in violence, that’s just how humans are. Dantes knew this wasn’t just him,
Because right then, Dantes was experiencing the “Mystery Hour” himself. He could see that it was not just him.
----------------------------------------
If this novel was written from the perspective of Crownslayer, it would’ve probably been much more focused on the action. The clashing and clanging of blades rang like a siren in this hell’s bell of an arena. The metal walls would reflect the echoes, creating echoes and so on. Of course, Dantes would still experience all this — or would he? He thought so at least, from the architecture of the area.
However, this novel was Dantes’s story, and right now, he was effectively the medic of this war.
Fun fact about medics: they get all the trauma, but none of the glory! He supposed that perhaps he was in slightly less danger… but nope! The boss’s chamber was tiny, and the human army was cramped in here, only affording an arm’s radius’s vacancy. This issue proved itself fatal, as near the edges of the arena existed an infinite pit, and a single misstep could cost one’s life. A single fall could cost ten’s life, and a single swing from the boss could cost a hundred's life.
Stress.
The battle had not even begun yet, but Dantes was under quite a bit of stress. Thanks to the sacrifices of Svirit’s ex-party, ARK now knew that touching the boss began a raid. Perhaps some leeway from the creators of hell, though it was not much. There were only a few minutes left on the clock before the army would settle in the practiced position, and soon enough, the drawbridge that connects the center circle to the rest of the world would withdraw, and the innocent, brave souls would be imprisoned until freed by the death of the skeletal beast slumbering before them.
If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.
The skeletal beast.
Aldrian Beast (Lvl 99)
HP: 666666666
ATK: 23321000
PHYS RES: 50%
MAG RES: 70%
PHYS PEN: 40%
“Hopefully they are not the pets of the slime”
Or, the Aldrian beast. However, most referred to the enemy as skeletal, as it was the best descriptor of its nature. Skeletal, as in the sense of ancient, starved, and beaten, like the rest of them. A horrifically senile humanoid creature — though only its bones remained, all could tell. A piss-yellow, filth? It was like a display in the museum — not just a display in a box, but a dinosaur fossil assembly that would welcome the visitors into a new world. A taste of what’s to come. Suffering, pain, etc. Someone get the janitor.
Ah, the time is up. The clock’s hand strikes its destination.
----------------------------------------
Trauma is boring. Descriptions of blood, gore and such were boring — to Dantes. So let’s forget about it. Maybe someday, Dantes will return to this point in time, a point in the story, a point in the journey of his Inferno. But for now, let’s just forget about it, and close our eyes. Let rivers run over our faces.
----------------------------------------
To Dantes, what always mattered was the ultimate fate of the people, not their journey. He wished for this escape-from-Everybody’s-Tower to be just that — an escape. Perhaps it’d be better if he forgot all of it.
The raid was a success.
Only 11% (108) of the 967 (41% of ARK) players perished on that day, mostly thanks to the efforts of Dantes.
Only 108 people.
He was surprised by the number of participants which was much greater than what he expected. Dantes wasn’t sure whether to feel hope or dread from the numbers, compiled by the statisticians at ARK. Or number counters? He wasn’t sure if this counted as statisticianing.
It turned out that over 52% of the participants were barely Lvl 70, and most of them were provided with generic gear instead of grinded ones, better ones. Of course, from a logistical stance, this made sense. Those who wanted better armour and better weapons needed to work for it themselves.
“...Just before the raid, four funerals were held,”
Dantes looked up from the red floor to find Kiritsu, standing with his blade supporting his weight. He was highly damaged as well and held only a fifth of his max HP.
“For confirmed deaths of course,” said Kiritsu, “some people just disappear.”
“...”
“People die. In front of us, or behind us,” said Kiritsu as he handed Dantes something from his pocket.
A pitch-black blindfold.
“...What is this?”
“This is a feature of the game — “Force PG Blindfold” or "Blinkers" — a craftable item. You will no longer see any blood. You will no longer see any deaths. When you look at someone, their movements will continue to be simulated — just for you — even when they die. People will only dissapear when they are behind you, away from sight.”
Dantes carefully accepted the piece of cloth.
In front of us, or behind us… So many people had died so far, why was he getting worked up now?
Because they died in front of him.
The four funerals — he did not know about them, he did not know funerals were held. However, even after learning of them, he did not feel anything.
Because they died behind him.
“Put everything behind you. Only look forward from now on.”