"Eighteen hundred thousand years ago, a tragedy took place. And the chief culprit behind that tragedy was something called the 'Blood-Red Flower.'"
The old artifact refiner drew a deep breath, an unprecedented gravity showing in his eyes. It was as though that horror had happened only moments ago, its terror still vivid before him.
"Eighteen hundred thousand years ago, in the Mythical Realm, there was actually a grand festival held on a certain day every year. It had been established by the survivors after the ancient Great Cataclysm. On that day each year, everyone would set aside everything else and choose to rest, to relax."
"It was named the Day of Remaining Life!"
"It carried the meaning of surviving a calamity."
"On that day, everyone would return home and spend one of the rare days of the year with their families and friends. Even enemies would suspend their attacks, choose to sheathe their weapons, and go home to celebrate the festival."
"For an entire day, no one would raise a hand against another. It was a rare day of relaxation in the Mythical Realm."
"Yet it was on that very day, when everyone was tearing into meat and drinking deeply, when children's laughter rang without end, when they were enjoying that rare reunion with family and friends in complete relaxation, holding feasts—"
"Everything suddenly changed."
"Everyone went mad. Everything around them seemed to become their enemy, to become a blood feud."
"They began attacking one another. They began slaughtering each other like mad."
"Old people, children, women— it was as if the most terrifying evil buried deep in human nature had been awakened. They attacked everything around them without the slightest mercy."
"Some remained conscious, but no one knew what had happened."
"They watched their crazed wives, their mad husbands,