mc-med Chapter 342: Everyone Thought They Were the Protagonist.
Chapter 342: Everyone Thought They Were the Protagonist.
Five days later.
Mantis Town had recovered from its battle scars, and the town had regained its vitality. Humans and Mantis Beastmen walked along the streets with faint smiles upon their faces.
For the Mantis Beastmen who could not speak the human language, they tried using hand gestures to convey their meanings.
It was somewhat comical, but it showed how each species was genuinely trying to understand the other better.
Survival might have brought the two species together initially, but now they had become comrades who had shared a life and death battle.
The humans had proven they could be depended upon, and because of that, the Mantis Beastmen gradually opened their hearts to them.
With the two species almost becoming one community, the central street remained as lively as ever. It was all thanks to one particular and rather strange store.
Standing at the very center of the commercial district, a massive two story building towered over the surrounding structures.
Hanging prominently above the storefront was a name that had recently taken the entire town by storm.
Black Water.
Even though the central street served as the heart of commerce, the area surrounding the Black Water Store remained strangely quiet.
Humans and Mantis Beastmen walked carefully nearby as though they feared making even the slightest noise.
No one talked unnecessarily.
No one breathed too loudly.
Everyone minded their own business.
They entered and departed with the same unusual silence.
For those living within Mantis Town, the strange atmosphere surrounding the Black Water Store was no longer surprising.
Since the grand opening of the store, everyone had come to understand one simple truth.
Fighting and disturbances were not allowed anywhere near Black Water.
Even though nobody truly knew what would happen if someone caused trouble near the store, nobody wanted to discover the truth personally.
This included even the powerful Crimson Arc Guild.
Their members might patrol throughout the town in groups, but whenever they approached Black Water, they separated immediately.
Each person entered the store individually without speaking to the others.
To the people of Mantis Town, the Crimson Arc Guild was no longer the most intimidating force.
That position belonged to the new store.
Black Water.
People discussed the name with equal amounts of reverence and fear.
It was spoken quietly within taverns and marketplaces.
Why?
Because of what Black Water represented.
Life throughout the Bleeding Desert had always been harsh and unforgiving. Everyone survived from one day to the next without much hope for the future.
For many Beastmen clans, they had already accepted such hardships as part of their destiny.
However, human awakeners who dreamed of clearing the Second Floor and returning to the surface could never accept such a life completely.
Within the privacy of their rooms, many constantly thought about their families waiting above.
They thought about their loved ones.
They thought about their hopes for the future.
They thought about their dreams.
Many dreamed of becoming heroes of humanity.
They wanted to become heroes capable of saving their world from impending destruction.
Unfortunately, the Abyss quickly taught them a cruel lesson.
Becoming a hero demanded far more than courage alone.
It demanded more than anyone could have imagined.
It demanded sacrifice.
It demanded impossible sacrifices.
At the beginning, many naive awakeners believed sacrifice was nothing extraordinary. After all, everyone had made sacrifices at some point in their lives.
At least, that was what they believed.
With their powerful talents, what could possibly go wrong?
With the support of their families, success seemed inevitable.
They convinced themselves that they would conquer the Abyss eventually.
When they joined various guilds, their confidence only increased further.
Their pride swelled rapidly.
As a result, they never truly took the horror of the Abyss seriously.
On the First Floor, they witnessed many dangerous situations. Even so, their determination remained largely unaffected.
Most still had friends and companions around them. Guild influence remained overwhelmingly powerful.
The presence of the Federation made everything seem even safer.
After clearing the First Floor, many returned to the surface filled with pride and arrogance.
Then they descended to the Second Floor.
Everything changed.
The true horror of the Abyss began revealing itself.
Many awakeners failed to survive even their first week after descending.
Some were swallowed by the desert beneath their feet.
Others were captured by hostile Beastmen tribes.
The talents they once took pride in suddenly meant very little.
Some unfortunate individuals appeared near the territories of powerful beasts and were devoured before understanding what had happened.
Others died from thirst.
Those fortunate enough to survive and find temporary shelter were often hunted relentlessly by Dune Scavengers.
The Bleeding Desert followed only one law.
Survival of the fittest.
For weeks, many could not locate any settlement whatsoever.
Their Hamal Shards became nearly worthless.
All they could do was cry helplessly while watching companions disappear into the endless sands.
Those lucky enough to eventually find a nearby town slowly began rebuilding their lives.
However, their naive beliefs gradually started changing.
Their confidence shattered.
Their pride crumbled.
Their arrogance disappeared slowly.
Even then, deep within their hearts, many continued holding onto hope.
They believed they were the protagonists of their own stories.
They believed fortune would eventually smile upon them.
After all, they had survived far longer than countless others.
Surely that meant they were destined for greatness.
Isn’t it?
They believed they had seen the complete horror of the Bleeding Desert. They thought they’d conquered it. What was left for them was to complete their trial and ascend to the third floor.
Beautiful.
Simple.
If things were that simple, it wouldn’t be called the Bleeding Desert. Yet, their naive thought continued to lead them astray.
Some began to form bigger hunting parties to hunt beasts. Some even form a coalition to gather their resources to survive against the deadly Bleeding Desert.
They promise a shared goal.
To ascend to the third floor as a team.
Promising they would leave no one behind.
Grand.
Marvelous.
Many were convinced. Many dream of such a bright future.