From the top of the temple, Ishiki peered far into the surrounding world—into the expanse that would determine whether they lived or died, whether salvation existed or had always been mirage conjured by desperate hope.

At first, there was nothing except golden leaves forming canopy so devastatingly thick it was almost impossible to perceive beyond them.

But then Ishiki saw something... or rather things, that made him gulp hard and his heart hammer with renewed vigor.

In the far distance—north, if such directions held meaning, there was a large piece of... rock?

No.

It was not merely a rock, it was an entire island.

Floating in the sky above ground where the Crimson Canopy finally... ended.

The floating landmass gleamed like golden brick kissed by divine artificer. It possessed grandeur that transcended architectural achievements and entered realm of cosmic sculptures.

Tall golden walls protruded from the island's edges, rising to impossible vertical heights, that defied sense. They formed an impenetrable fortress atop the hovering earth.

The structure was stunning and charming.

'That... What is that?'

Ishiki was at a loss of words for its beauty.

The walls seemed to drink the crimson glow emanating from the burning moon—absorbing that bloody light and transforming it into something that made the fortress shine with luminescence of divinity.

Well, leaving that. Ishiki saw salvation.

He saw bridges... metal bridges descending down from the floating island to the ground. There were five of them in total, leading to five different places on the ground.

The one Ishiki faced right now was the one that lead directly somewhere inside the Crimson Canopy. The terminus point, if he had to estimate based on angle and distance, lay approximately two hundred kilometers to the north, or whatever that direction was.

The other four lead to different kind of structural settlements surrounding the clearing above which the island floated.

A specifically cold gust of wind hit Ishiki. The wind sent violent shivers cascading through his malnourished frame, raising goosebumps across his arms and legs.

Starting from the clearing, the Crimson Canopy expended and spanned across thousands of kilometers.

It was heartbreaking to look at.

Because their closest route to safety—their only viable path to the floating city, required traversing approximately two hundred kilometers through the Crimson Canopy's deepest interior. That were zero percent chances of surviving the onslaught of demons, withered beasts and the monstrous trees.

"Screw... Screw It! Is there no way out?"

Ishiki's voice broke on the second word.

He punched the metal spire he'd been using for support and then in a desperate frenzy studied all the other sides.

Considering the floating city resided to the north, the Crimson Canopy originated just below it and stretched impossibly far into the south, extending beyond his eye could see.

Perhaps hundreds of kilometers. Perhaps thousands.

To the east, the bloody forest adjoined a massive wall. The barrier made seeing beyond it categorically impossible.

To the west existed an endless ocean. But not any ocean Ishiki had ever witnessed on Earth.

This water was red. And no, it wasn't reflecting crimson moonlight.

The liquid itself was red—viscous and thick, like blood. It stretched to horizon with waves that moved in strange ways.

Hideous.

That was the only word capable of describing the visceral revulsion.

As if the ocean was filled with blood itself.

There was no escape on any side.

North required two-hundred-kilometer death march through singing trees and prowling horrors.

South offered only more Crimson Canopy extending beyond sight and sanity.

East presented impenetrable wall blocking all possibility.

West promised drowning in ocean made up of blood.

There was no escape on either side. Their only way to salvation is to make a journey to the very end of the Crimson Canopy and then take the metal bridge to reach the floating island.

The implications made Ishiki's expression darken with despair, pushing him almost to the edge.

'Curse it... Curse the damned system. This is just, straight up execution.'

Nothing was supposed to be impossible. That's what they had always been told. Things might be, Difficult yes, but never impossible.

Looking around from his vantage atop this ancient temple, Ishiki couldn't help but feel that survival was perhaps... genuinely impossible.

The system had doomed them by sending them here. Was this how things were supposed to end?

'Mom... Ren, are you out there somewhere. Do you see me, do you see how pathetically I will die.'

Despite the ranging emotions currently fighting in his chest, Ishiki let only one escape.

He laughed.

The sound burst from his throat—maniacal and broken.

"HAHAHAHA—"

The laughter echoed across the settlement, bounced off temple walls, carried over the Crimson Canopy's edge where trees heard and perhaps appreciated the sound of hope dying.

"WHAT HAPPENED? DID YOU SEE SOMETHING?" Alex, shouted from below.

Ishiki stopped and then clenched his teeth, what was he going to tell the poor bastard waiting below? That they are doomed? That they had bad luck and just like that they are going to die of starvation?

"To Hell with it! There must be some way."

Just then, another chilling burst of air assaulted Ishiki. This one was more chilled than the one before.

'Is the Crimson Night coming to an end?'

The thought arrived with urgency.

'I need to get down first.'

Ishiki took few shuddering breaths, trying to calm himself down. And then turned around to follow the footholds back down.

And just as he stepped on the first foothold, a particularly strong and chilly gust of wind almost knocked him down.

'What is wrong today? Where are these gusts coming from?' Ishiki grimaced, holding the supports better and climbing down.

Suddenly, before he could. A sharp and loud scream tore through the otherwise silent expanse of the Crimson Canopy.

Ishiki's attention snapped to sound, which came from the south.

A wide expanse of ice.

Almost like an iceberg except horizontal rather than vertical—a frozen path cutting through the forest, pointing its sharp edge towards the clearing he was in. The starting point point of the ice was close.

It was almost as if someone had created a road made entirely of ice—a pristine white highway cutting through golden leaves and wooden horror, freezing everything in between.

Trees along the path's edges were encased in frost.

And within that white path, a lone figure staggered forward through the Crimson Canopy, movements uncoordinated with exhaustion and injury. One arm wrapped around their torso as if holding wounds.

The other dragged a massive corpse behind, that left trails of golden blood on the pristine Ice.

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