Fokay — City of Pain

Weeks passed.

There were weeks when Rea never stopped going out to the marketplace to train, to prepare her mind, all of it for the single purpose of succeeding in her quest to reach Intermediate.

She would have loved to train until the very end of her quest limit, but the test to become a Weeping Acolyte was just around the corner, making her unable to delay it any further.

She was short on time, after all.

So right now, she was standing in front of the door of the prison, watching it with apprehensive eyes, her two hands twitching at her sides as she forced herself not to quiver.

Because no matter how much she prepared herself, Rea always found herself on the edge of being completely swallowed by the fears of the people wandering the marketplace, always having to stop herself before reaching the point of no return.

And she couldn't imagine how she would fare against those inside this place — those supposed to be the worst of all.

She raised her head slowly, eyes darting across the building in front of her, observing its harrowing and haunting beauty.

Like everything within the City of Pain, the prison's walls were washed in lifeless grey, streaked with patches of dark moss clinging stubbornly to the stone, silent proof of how many years this place had endured. The building rose in the form of a cathedral, its body solemn and unyielding, with a spire that seemed to stab into the heavens themselves, giving the illusion it could pierce even the drifting clouds that tried to escape its shadow.

The windows were circular, not made of glass as usual, but of crystallized steel that gleamed like quartz beneath the murky grey light.

The entrance door loomed wide, not towering like a giant's gate, but broad enough for any ordinary person to pass through. Its surface, black-grey and cold, bore the insignia of the church carved deep into the wood and iron: the face of a weeping woman, her tears etched in such detail that they caught the faint light as if shimmering endlessly down her cheeks.

Rea always had this strange feeling whenever she looked at the symbol of the Church. It was as if something inside her shook, giving her the impression that if she stared at it for too long, something buried deep within her might awaken.

And she would definitely not like that.

That was why she never looked at it too long, fearing what might happen if she dared.

So, closing her eyes, Rea gathered herself and began to think of all the reasons why she was doing this.

Of all the reasons she allowed herself to be tortured by pain.

Of all the reasons she chose to live this sorrowful, lifeless, grey life, with no joy and no warmth to speak of.

Yes… she needed to remember why she had accepted to always live in winter, and never in spring.

She needed that to hold on to herself.

And it was simple, she wanted vengeance for her grandfather, and the revival of the Thornspire.

'…and just like you are ready to die for your goal, I am ready to lose myself in pain…' Rea mused in her mind, suddenly struck with the urge to speak to him, to that man who had once made her realize a flaw in her thinking.

How was he now?

Did he die because of his goal?

Did he lose himself while pursuing it?

Did he cower and forget the reason he started?

Just how was that young man who feared nothing doing now?

And… what would he say when she told him what she was ready to lose for her goal?

Would he be happy? Proud? Or even… indifferent?

Rea didn't know. After all, she had only spoken with him once, not nearly enough to guess his character. But still… she was sure he wouldn't mock her, wouldn't call her foolish.

Or maybe he would call her foolish… but only to give her advice afterward.

At that, she gave a faint, pained smile.

The only smile she could muster now.

'…what an interesting one.'

In a world drowned in a cornucopia of fear, a world where fear was everywhere, he… did not practically fear anything?

Rea shook her head, took one step after another, and walked toward the prison's door, her feet pressing gently and demurely against the rocky ground, with one last thought echoing in her mind…

'It was like he was made specifically to intrigue me… to draw me in… to make me wonder…'

And it worked.

She was intrigued.

And she wanted to see that fearless fiancé of hers.

And to see…

Was he still fearless?

…

Inside the Prison of the City of Pain.

The church had already prepared everything for Rea's quest.

To make it easier for her to feel and experience the negative emotions of the prisoners, she had decided to put them all into one singular room, then face their fears, their pain, their sorrow all at once.

It wasn't the wisest choice, honestly.

She could have chosen to do it step by step, to give her mind time to rest and recover between waves. But no, she decided to endure it all at once.

And so here she was, standing in the middle of a wide grey room, nothing around her but prisoners bound in chains, circled along the walls like grotesque ornaments.

All of them were awake. Some looked at her with fear, others with scorn and hatred, others with lecherous gazes, others with wicked delight at seeing fresh prey, and others with nothing at all, blank and numb, as if life itself had already abandoned them.

Their mouths were sealed, leaving them unable to speak, their muffled noises blending into a dreadful chorus, echoing like a hymn sung by the gatekeepers of hell.

Their faces wore expressions like masks, but as someone who could see fear, Rea knew better than anyone that most of the time — if not always — people hid their true feelings behind those masks they chose to wear in society.

Rea took a deep breath.

'I am Rea Thornspire, daughter of Eliot Thornspire and Fatou Thornspire. Granddaughter of Deimos Thornspire.'

She repeated the words again and again to solidify herself.

After minutes of silence, she opened her eyes once more. Looking around the room, at the chained men and women, at their twisted expressions… she let all of it sink into her mind and then…

…she activated her skill.

A torrent of emotions crashed into her like a waterfall. She staggered instantly, her body swaying, her mind fracturing into countless shards, her body tipping as if about to collapse entirely.

She raised her hands to clutch her head, her knees buckling before slamming onto the ground with a sickening crunch.

She stayed there, head bowed, hands digging into her skull, as the corrupting feelings of the prisoners devoured her from all directions…

The pain of watching your family slaughtered before your eyes, their screams carved into your skull so deep that even silence sounds like them dying again.

The fear of rotting in a prison forgotten by the world, your name scratched from memory until even the rats forget you were ever alive.

The pain of seeing your loved ones spit you out like poison.

The pain of killing those same loved ones, not from hatred, but because they would never accept you and you could not accept their refusal.

The sin of swimming in their blood, dragging their broken bodies back with necromancy, just to force their corpses to love you when their souls never would.

The sin of raping your own mother, planting your seed in her womb, then murdering her and the unborn child, hiding your crime in the dirt as if the earth itself would shield you from the wrath of the heavens.

The sin of betraying your husband with his sister, the one who sinfully loved her brother and wanted to taste you out of spite, until your twisted games ended in mutilated corpses cooling in your bed as you drank their blood.

The sorrow of losing the love of your life to some rich bastard who never knew her laugh, her scars, her warmth and still stole her as if she were nothing more than a purchase.

The pain of failing after clawing, bleeding, burning, begging, doing everything you could — only to collapse at the finish line like a cruel joke only the gods would laugh at.

As Rea endured and lived each of those emotions, her mind tore apart, shredded like fragile paper. She collapsed face-first onto the ground, her body spasming, her eyes bleeding tears of blood.

And at that moment, she knew instinctively…

…she would fail this quest.

—End of Chapter 214—

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