They were originally healthy skeletons, both physically and ntally.
After work, they would enjoy hobbies like fishing, flower arranging, sculpting, and exercising.
But now, they were buried in a deep sense of depression, pretending to smoke cigars with crushed herbs wrapped in leaves. Without lungs, no less.
Their leader, the skeleton farr 1004, Epiden, exuded a particularly dangerous aura.
Holding his scythe upside down, he gazed at the empty sockets with a gloomy, oppressive glare.
He looked exactly like a grim reaper straight out of a painting.
By the way, the scythe was a gift from the farm owner, called the "Harvest Scythe," an item that increased the harvest by a chance factor of two.
It had nothing to do with reapers.
Clank, clank...
Clink, clink...
Despite the scythe’s effects, which would have surely yielded a bountiful harvest today, the skeleton farrs still looked downcast.
The reason was simple.
The shapeless fla, Hellfla, which had been pressed flat against the ground, spoke.
Clank, clank...
They were worried about Ayleth, the dungeon farm's owner.
Ti in the dungeon farm passes three tis faster than in the real world.
It had been a while since they heard from Leonard and Eltea, who had co to gather herbs, that Ayleth was still unconscious due to the aftereffects of the battle.
The Rodelline couple, who visited every three days, still had not brought any updated news.
Epiden, as if trying to comfort Helveros, sprinkled herb leftovers over the fla.
Normally, Helveros would have flickered with excitent, but now, he was different.
Even the vegetarian food he loved was rejected by Helveros, who transford into a young boy with suspicious red eyes. He headed to the flower garden cultivated by Kirtan, began plucking flowers and tearing them apart.
Clink, clink!
Startled, Kirtan rushed over. He shouted in indignation, demanding an explanation for the damage to the flowers he had carefully grown for arrangents.
But Helveros stood proudly.
Kirtan imdiately accepted this explanation.
That wasn’t the only change. For so reason, after that, other skeletons also # Nоvеlight # sat down together and started making wreaths.
The dungeon, where the great flood had subsided, was now a harmonious place with coral reefs and vast oceans.
The twelve rmaids living here had also heard the news from Eltea and Hildero, who ca to gather rmaid tears, and they too were worried about Ayleth.
The rmaids, as usual, couldn’t stay too concerned for long.
In fact, they were currently playing sea volleyball with steel pufferfish monsters.
The rmaids jumped high from the water’s surface, swinging their tail fins powerfully in mid-air.
Pwoooosh!
The steel pufferfish flew at high speed, making a sound as if it were about to burst, reaching the horizon.
Despite the dangerous nature of the sport, the rmaids were delighted.
Of course, not all of them were as cheerful.
The youngest rmaid, with her red hair, stared at the flying pufferfish in the air with uninterested eyes.
In fact, she was deep in thought.
The eleven older rmaids stopped their volleyball ga and gathered around the youngest with concern.
At that mont, the youngest seed to make a decision and said with determination.
Her gaze turned serious.
The youngest rmaid then set off to hunt for eel.
The sky of Feronsa was clear, boasting the crispness typical of autumn, after the calamity passed.
In the grand house of the Hispenril family, the Raemian House.
The warm afternoon sunlight poured over the garden, lined with statues of muscular, half-naked n.
The light reflecting off the fountain’s water droplets created a sparkling world.
In a room on the third floor of the mansion, overlooking this magnificent scene, soone lay asleep, completely unaware of the passing ti.
The room had been arranged to ensure comfort for the resting patient.
Fresh, soft bedding, properly ventilated, with a faint herbal scent lingering in the air—things that would be hard to obtain without the efforts of many.
Ayleth, lying with her pink hair spread out like a fan over the white sheets, had her eyes closed.
Except for the occasional sound of birds chirping, the room was exceptionally quiet.
Everyone in the Hispenril castle, waiting for the Divine Priestess to wake, walked softly from the far hallways, careful not to disturb her slumber.
But in a paradoxical twist, everyone was eagerly awaiting Ayleth’s awakening.
And here, there was one person with a heart even more desperate and affectionate than everyone else in the castle.
“......”
A handso man, sitting motionless on a stool beside the bed, looked at the face of the one lying in bed as though frozen, his eyes darkened beneath long lashes.
His lips, beautifully curved, unconsciously parted.
“Ah...”
The deep, llow voice, usually like playing a stringed instrunt, was muffled and hoarse.
It was the nth ti he had called out.
Once again, there was no response, but the re fact that he could see and touch Ayleth Rodeline at this mont was his only solace.
In truth, Tesilid still couldn’t believe it.
When he first learned that Ayleth had entered the Gate of the Gods, he thought everything was over.
He had been tortured by the gods for 116 lifetis.
He thought his god would rcilessly take his beloved person again, just as it had in the past.
And in the most direct way.
There could be no clearer miracle than the Gate of the Gods.
It was the gods who took her.
It was his god who took Ayleth Rodeline away.
He despaired.
He fell into a deep despair.
The world he had abandoned, the world he had no intention of restoring, but why, even after abandoning it, did the god feel the need to use his power and take away his last hope?
The despair, which had been suppressed for so long, rushed over him in an instant, and he could hardly bear it.
But just when he was about to let himself fall into that despair, the Gate of the Gods suddenly opened again, and Ayleth Rodeline was sent back out.
The gods returned her to him.
He couldn’t believe it.
The gods.
His gods.
‘Strict order and good?’
He, who had begged for rcy in misery, was now confused as that rcy was granted to him.
‘Could it be...?’
Strict order and good?
For a mont, it seed he could hear the voice of the great truth’s bible—"Convert."
Had another god granted him rcy?
However, Tesilid imdiately dismissed the theory. There was no way a heretical god would bestow rcy on him, sothing even his god had never done.
Moreover, it was Ayleth who opened the Gate of the Gods.
Not just a saint, but at the end of the gate opened by the divine priestess, there was a heretical god? That was nonsense.
So, he returned to his original assumption of ‘strict order and good.’ A familiar negative thought led him to a new suspicion.
Perhaps the gods had returned Ayleth to him in order to bring even greater despair and failure.
Having been trained and taught by betrayal and loss for countless years, his mind could only accept tragedy, and he expected the worst possible outco.
The situation at hand was certainly not hopeful.
It had already been ten days.
The penalty of two days for Divine Descent had long passed, but Ayleth was still not awake.
Perhaps, the gods had only given him her shell.
The thought made Tesilid’s breath catch. The man, already like a salt statue, was growing paler.
‘He’s thinking those depressing thoughts again.’
A translucent, blonde beauty standing by the window clicked her tongue in her mind.
Agnes tried to shake Tesilid out of his gloomy thoughts, offering him what she thought he needed most right now.
"I'm fine."
"I slept enough last night."
"I’ll just stay a little longer."
It’s fine.
It’s enough.
Just a little longer.
Agnes bit back a sigh, resisting the urge to lecture the stubborn ti traveler.
But Tesilid wasn’t the only one in the castle who would nag him.
Clack.
A strong, imposing figure stepped into the room, walking with purpose.
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