Not only did astral creatures inhabit the Astral Dinsion. Everyone knew that, and Kain was no exception, but only now he had the opportunity to et an astral inhabitant.
The old man set aside the jug and held out his hand to Kain, a kind smile on his face.
"Go ahead, I'll help you."
'So this is a resident of this world? Is he from the sa faction as ? Are we in this together, or should I kill him?' Kain pondered.
'Kill...? Where do I get these thoughts from? Why do I even think about sothing like that so easily?'
'To hell with it! It doesn't matter right now!'
Tap.
Gripping the old man's forearms tightly, Kain climbed out of the lake.
"Good," the old man patted him on the shoulder. "You were attacked by a Crimson Hound. I heard it happened to one group. It looks like you were lucky to survive. Thank the Curved Horn that it was all over!"
'Curved Horn? What's he talking about?'
The old man frowned, lowering his hand to Kain's chest. "Wait... Let check sothing."
Before Kain could react, the old man pulled back the cloak, revealing Kain's chest.
"Isn't that..." The old man's eyes went wide in disbelief, causing Kain to lower his gaze.
On the left side of his chest was a tattoo, a red circle, the drops around the edges indicating a rapid rotation.
The old man gasped, his eyes wet, ready to burst into tears of happiness. "The Red Swirl... So you're the sacrifice. How good! Then our ritual will be fulfilled! Great, the elder will be pleased!"
Seemingly rejuvenated by about twenty years, he took Kain by the hand and walked down the path. If his old joints would allow it, he would run.
Thoughts of killing the old man or running away visited Kain's mind again.
Escape? But why and where?
Kain turned over his shoulder at the lake - the beast's bare skull floated to the surface.
'Fuck, I don't know where I'm going or even where I am! This is not one of the places Kserx was talking about, and considering my Mark, this is far worse than the Shining Caves. I've been here less than ten minutes, and I've already been attacked twice. If I run away, the only thing that awaits is death.'
Kain stared at the old man, at the bright fire glowing through the dense tree trunks in the distance.
'People, enemies or friends, it doesn't matter - it's information,' he pondered. 'There's nothing wrong with being a sacrifice, the key is not to end up as one.'
They found themselves at the Dark Horn's camp. Cold winds blew the tents, a campfire with a large bubbling cauldron, and n in black cloaks carrying wood to keep the vibrant red flas burning.
Kain's eyes flickered towards the only table.
'This is...'
Three girls and three young n were in distinctive red cloaks. They got their food first, but no one touched the hot stew. Several n in black robes stood nearby as guards.
Kain and the redhead girl exchanged a glance.
Her eyes trembled, full of fear.
A tense atmosphere hung in the air.
At the sa mont, an old man with a long black beard ca out of the main tent.
"Mork, you went to fetch water and ca back with one of the followers? But he is not in our group. Who is it?"
Imdiately, Mork collapsed to his knees. "Elder Olaf! This young man is a Sacrifice from the group that was attacked by the Crimson Hounds! He was lucky enough to escape and survive!"
Strangely enough, unlike Mork, Olaf did not bother to check the mark on Kain's chest.
"Is it true? You're a Sacrifice?" Olaf said nacingly.
To say no? That's death. To say yes? It is death, but not instantly.
"Yes," Kain replied firmly.
Silence.
Suddenly, all the followers glanced over, their hands twitching.
"Yes!"
"Hail to the Curved Horn!"
"Luck is on our side this ti!"
Barely crying with happiness, the followers exclaid, hugging each other.
Clap. Clap. Clap.
Olaf patted Kain on the shoulder. "Great, that's just great news. Go to the table."
Receiving the sa red cloak on the way, Kain took a seat, becoming the seventh Sacrifice. A massive figure nearly two ters tall stood behind him, a silent guardian.
"Why aren't you eating?" Kain asked, staring at the redhead.
"Hah... We're just not hungry..." she nervously replied, though her stomach rumbled.
Kain wasn't afraid that the food was poisoned. He realized that although he was destined to die, no one would harm him before the ritual.
"Argh? You are talkative, even too much so." an irritated female voice ca from one of the guards.
Kain looked up, eting the black-haired giantess's stare. "You're supposed to protect us, not decide whether we can talk or not, aren't you?"
"Tsk," she snarled. "Just eat faster. Those Dark Horn fanatics won't move on until you're taken care of."
'I see...' Kain's eyes grew deeper. 'So these five are so sort of rcenaries. At least the guards aren't direct mbers of the Dark Horn.'
"Uh-that... They needed seven, at least..." the redhead muttered, starting to eat.
Kain raised an eyebrow. "You were supposed to et my group. How fortunate that I survived..."
"Y-Yes..." she stamred. "Now we won't have to go back... The sacrifice to the Curved Horn will be fulfilled..."
"What's your na?"
She pointed to herself.
"My na?"
Kain nodded.
"Ignis... My na is Ignis."
"Good to know," Kain nodded.
Imdiately after dinner, the followers brought a massive, portable wooden cage.
Ignis and the other Sacrifices, one by one, obediently stepped inside under the strict gaze of the five guards. Kain was about to follow them, but Olaf suddenly stopped him.
"Hold on, boy."
Holding a crimson-eyed amulet, Olaf placed his dry hand on Kain's chest. "For so reason, the elder of your fallen group didn't activate your mark. I'll look into it."
'What...?'
The amulet shuddered, following the scalding heat running through Kain's body. His mouth opened wide in vivid pain as two red rays ca out of his eyes like ghostly lanterns.
The drops ca into motion, flowing inward, creating a full view of the Red Swirl. The runes ran in the depths of his eyes, revealing previously unknown Traits.
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