The scorched stench carried the unique bloody tang of burning fat.
Xintelya's throat twitched slightly. Covering her mouth and nose with the back of her hand, she followed the source of the smell toward lower ground.
Following that faintly discernible trail, the Armorless Union's Platinum eventually arrived before the open doors of a banquet hall.
Then she saw hell.
Corpses.
Charred, twisted, overlapping corpses.
When a person's consciousness remained clear but their body could no longer move, they would release every last bit of longing in their hearts, casting their gaze, their senses, everything they had toward that open doorway representing hope.
So when someone arrived here, those despair-filled gazes were finally able to meet hers all at once—though this Kuranta woman was not prepared for it.
She saw blood soaking into the carpet, embers still churning within it, and the air filled with a nauseating scorched smell mixed with chunks of flesh that had not fully burned away, like an altar left behind after a sacrificial ritual.
Without a word, Xintelya turned and sprinted toward the courtyard.
She needed air, or her stomach would betray her first.
When she rushed into the center of the empty courtyard.
A wisp of wind silently wound itself around her back.
The door to the room burst open with a bang.
The sound distracted the Kuranta who was lining up a shot at the billiards table, and he accidentally sent the cue ball straight into a pocket.
His dyed hair and tail drooped weakly as he let out a mournful sigh.
"Ah, little Platinum, I know dragging you out of your vacation wasn't exactly a good move, but once we're done, you can still go enjoy those holidays of yours. How's Sami? The luxury villas there are pretty tempting."
"But before that,