‘I'm starting to think the Goddess of Fortune has cursed me.’
On this newly begun day, Enkrid’s gaze turned to the sky. The blue-tinted moon filled his vision. Dawn had not yet broken.
He had woken up so early that the moon he saw before bed was still in the sky. The moon was exceptionally bright.
‘When you think about it, isn’t that just the way it is.’
The ferryman in my dreams talks about walls and whatnot, but in the end, I just keep dying in unlucky ways. It was the same this time. He had tried to find a gap in the encircling forces time and again, but each time, his luck was just abysmal.
He aimed for an opening, stabbed a spearman's foot, and pushed through, only for a pile of dirt to suddenly fall on his head. Why did a part of the ceiling have to collapse at that exact moment? And why did the falling dirt have to get in my eyes?
It was the same after that. He was running along the castle wall, aiming for the mage, when a section of the wall that had been sturdy until then crumbled away, taking his footing with it. Other similar strokes of bad luck continued.