The Ten-Thousand Graves Kingdom. In a dark room of a small home, a woman peered outside through a crack in the window. Her serpentine eyes watched the group of fallen ones in white clothes walking happily outside the home—among them were even members of the Thousand Bloods—and she clenched her fists. ...
I can’t take this anymore.
Damyu.
Inside the shelter where Haryu had hidden her, she made up her mind. She could no longer hide here. It wasn't that she was short on food.
It wasn't even that uncomfortable. It seemed Haryu was up to something strange, and seeing that he had even sold out the Thousand Bloods, she wondered if perhaps this had been his goal all along. But this had crossed the line.
What in the world...? Even a rotten fish is still a fish, and a keeper is still a keeper. Damyu was acquainted with quite a few of the fallen ones.
So she couldn't help but know. The number of fallen ones in the Ten-Thousand Graves Kingdom had recently increased with shocking speed. People who, back when she was in the Lower World, would rather split and eat a World-Sealing Pill than serve under Amya, were now walking around with vacant smiles.