Saint Maverick explained that to escape this domain, the moment the blackout hit, every one of us had to kneel.

He added that in the event upon which the domain was based upon, during the blackout, the tallest person died first because he wasn't kneeling when the darkness arrived.

That event became the foundation of this blackout in the domain.

Since then, this domain enforced one rule: at least one person must be standing when the blackout arrives.

Whether this was how the event happened in the past or not mattered. The story of the tragedy had twisted, and rumors and folklores had been born out of it.

And the Rigid Curse came from these folklores.

If everyone kneeled, the Rigid Curse would pick someone and force them to stand straight. That person would die the moment the darkness fell.

I nodded.

This was the same curse that crippled our strongest fighter the instant we arrived here.

Saint Maverick looked at me. "I have a way to kneel even if I'm hit by the Rigid Curse."

The large Exorcist from New Order spoke next. "I can kneel too. Even if the curse hits me."

Saint Maverick nodded, relieved. "Good. If both of us manage to kneel despite the curse, then, for one turn, all of us will be kneeling. That should be impossible in this domain. It will destabilize the boundary."

He paused for a second, making sure everyone understood.

"At that moment, we need to attack the boundary of the domain—the torii gates. It should be weaker during destabilization. If we break even one point, we can escape through it."

I nodded again.

Inwardly, I wasn't thinking about anything except escape.

Exorcising this domain was impossible.

Escape was the only solution.

"So when you said some of us are guaranteed to die," I said quietly, "you meant the people who'll be hit by the Rigid Curse before it reaches you and the big guy?"

"Yes," Saint Maverick said with a slow nod. "The curse is random. It could strike any of us. Unless either of us is afflicted early, the others will keep dying during each blackout."

That was the worst part. We couldn't predict anything.

"Alright," I said. "And the boundary… we're sure it's the torii gates?"

"Yes," Saint Maverick replied. "Torii gates mark thresholds in Japanese folklore. They separate the mortal world from sacred or restricted spaces. Since this domain is based on a story believed to be true in its time, the torii gates serve as the boundary here too. They represent the entrance and the exit."

I nodded.

I wasn't worried about the Rigid Curse, at least not the same way the others were.

Before we entered the domain, I had the Inngril cast cursecraft on me. It lowered my luck, increasing the chances of the Rigid Curse targeting me.

If I got hit, I had a way to avoid being beheaded.

I didn't tell anyone about this though.

If I admitted I'd prepared specifically for this curse, they would question how I knew we needed someone to be afflicted.

The plan itself would be suspicious.

And I couldn't let them know.

Besides, my plan wasn't perfect. Luck-related effects were messy. They never behaved cleanly.

With my bad luck active, I should be afflicted by Rigid Curse. But the same bad luck might twist that outcome simply because I wanted the curse.

It could go either way. That was the problem with luck skills. The outcome always danced between logic and chaos.

Still, I believed the curse would hit me. It made the most sense. But the truth wouldn't reveal itself until the flute played.

We didn't wait long.

A sharp flute note cut through the air. It was the sound of a Shinto festival flute. It echoed from every direction at once, as if hundreds of musicians were playing the same tune.

Everyone dropped to their knees instantly.

Saint Maverick inhaled and spoke, "Who is afflicted by the Rigid Curse—"

He stopped mid-sentence.

His eyes locked onto me.

I was the only one standing.

His expression froze for one second, but we had no time to react.

The world vanished.

Everything turned black so suddenly it felt like reality had been erased. The darkness that appeared swallowed the idea of sight itself.

Sound disappeared.

Light disappeared.

My body disappeared.

I couldn't feel my hands. My feet. My weight. My breathing. All sensation cut off in an instant.

I tried to speak. Nothing.

I tried to move. Nothing.

There was no air. No warmth or cold. No pain. No heartbeat. No sense of my own existence.

It was like I had been removed from reality.

'Cancel Shadow Assimilation.'

I didn't feel anything, but I knew the command should have activated. I should've separated from my Shadow Summon—the one wearing the Disguise Skin of Caelum Nocthera.

'One.'

Since I canceled the skill, I should now be in my real body—the body of a three-year-old child—on the ground in a crawling position.

My Shadow Summon, on the other hand, should be standing where I had been, locked upright, and beheaded by the blackout a moment later.

'Two.'

I kept counting, even though I heard nothing. Counting was the only thing I could do.

'Three.'

When it was time for blackout to end, I would resummon the Shadow Summon. The one that had just been beheaded.

'Four.'

Then I would immediately re-use Shadow Assimilation and hide inside it again.

'Five.'

After that, I'd repair the Disguise Skin of Caelum Nocthera, which would definitely be damaged by the beheading.

'Six.'

I couldn't miss the timing.

If I did, the others would see my actual appearance.

That would be a problem I couldn't fix.

'Seven.'

Had the Shadow Summon been beheaded yet?

Normally, I would know. When a Shadow Summon died, I always felt a sharp pain in my head.

But this blackout erased all sensation, so I had no idea what had happened.

'Eight.'

The worst possibility crossed my mind.

What if I had miscalculated?

What if the blackout had killed me instead of my Shadow Summon because I was the one physically standing?

Or what if I canceled Shadow Assimilation too late, and the blackout claimed my real body?

I had no way of knowing.

If I was dead, I would not know about it until the blackout lifted.

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