Blood mingled with firelight, blooming in the darkness of the night.
There were over thirty thousand people in town, including more than a hundred players. But that level of resistance was utterly ineffective against these people.
Of the six, only two had even made a move.
The Red-haired Girl wielding a scythe and the Blond Young Man in a white suit became merciless reapers of life the moment they entered town.
In just over half an hour, town had fallen completely silent.
"You're players too, aren't you!? Why are you attacking those common people!?"
Having only just staggered out of town while supporting each other, the man seemed unable to hold on any longer when he saw the people guarding the entrance. He collapsed onto the ground and let out a despairing roar at the enemies before him.
After leading so many people through this hellish place for so long, what had awaited him was not the rescue he had imagined, but an even deeper despair. His mind was now on the verge of collapse.
"As you can see, we are saving you."
Looking at the only two people who had escaped the slaughter in town, the priest wore an expression of pity.
"Death is not the end. You will have a brand-new beginning. This is the highest grace, and you should learn to be grateful."
"Grateful? You really are as sanctimonious as ever."
His gaze sweeping across the three people before him, the Scarface Boy beside the man spoke coldly.
"I know you—the Undying Priest with an infamous reputation worldwide. I never thought you'd have the time to come over here. The more people lack something, the more they praise it with their mouths. Just thinking about the origins of that so-called Thanksgiving makes me sick. You want to