Along the coast of the Seacliff Province.
Unlike the pleasant scenery and bustling crowds of Silver Moon Bay.
This beach, soaked through with blood, gave off a stench even more pungent than rotting fish under the sunlight. There was no fertile land flowing with milk and honey here, only the horrifying sights of fear and death.
Near Wailing Rock by the Death Coast, on the cold, damp leeward side, a chattering uproar filled the air.
A group of blue-skinned humanoid creatures with scales and gills chanted obscure eulogies, praying under the guidance of a priest for the hunt that was about to begin today.
Two strong monsters walked to a cage half-submerged in the seawater, skillfully opened it, and dragged out a man who was already on the verge of death.
Having been soaked in seawater all day, the patch of skin around his neck had festered into sores, and his throbbing blood vessels seemed ready to burst from beneath his cracked skin.
The two monsters carried him onto the beach, tossed him among the praying creatures, and then stepped aside.
Listening to the gibbering cries around him, the man tried to crawl up from the ground, but he could not summon even a shred of strength. Every part of his body felt like it belonged to someone else.
He had not eaten for three days and was severely dehydrated. His muddled consciousness could drift into another world at any moment, and he could not even manage a sound of pleading.
Seeing him at death's door, the scaled monsters around him let out excited cries and even began to dance.
This meant the ancestors who had vanished into the tides had accepted their offering. The surging waves had swept away the prey's vital essence, and the sacrifice's weakness was the