All over the Sacred Lust Continent, people stood frozen and in fear. One by one, they started to get wrapped up by the red veil like a chain of smoke, and as all of them nervously waited, as if a cold demonic maw hung on their necks, it happened.
The first it happened to was a baby. Just 6 or 7 months old, the little thing rose to the skies alongside the smoke, but his parents could do nothing except watch as he floated up, slowly and gently but somehow untouchable, as if he had turned into a ghost.
But the baby boy was not alone; more soon followed. The less you weighed, the sooner you rose. As panic, screams, and shouts rang rampantly, the people who rose continued to rise, and in the thick red light, their silhouettes vanished.
—
Outside the Demon Restraining Temple stood an old man, his eyes as deep as an ancient well, his white beard stretched down to touch the ground as he walked forward. His words were a murmur, but they echoed like a small hymn as he counted.
