The festival grounds were packed. And by "packed," I mean overflowing with couples.
Everywhere I looked—handholding, giggling, leaning on each other's shoulders like the world itself depended on their fragile little romances.
It was romance ground for couples.
It was my archenemy.
Ugh.
Anyway, back to the main point.
What none of these lovebirds knew was that this very festival—the Bloomlight Festival they thought was all lanterns and flowers—would soon be remembered for something else entirely. It was about to be connected to another world's legacy and turn into a dungeon.
If I had my way, I'd tell them to pack up their candied fruit and get the hell out. But even if I shouted it from the rooftops, who would actually believe me? Other than Ryen, no one. And he barely counted.
I could stop it, sure. I knew the script, after all. But that wasn't the plan. Not when there was a reward room waiting inside the dungeon.
And there was no way I was walking away from that.
