The Lily of the Valley, whether spirit or demon, fed upon the innermost desires of its guests. It was the first of its kind to have taken on a tangible form.
A structure born not by hand, but by will.
If this truly were still the game, if the game itself had ever been real, players would have already dissected every inch of it. They would have mapped the corridors, written the rules, discovered loopholes, and sold that knowledge for profit.
"Marquess Astrea, I-I'm sorry… but I can't take this anymore…"
One of the scholars was ready to end his life before the Lily of the Valley could claim him. However, Vanitas seized the man before he could fully commit to the act.
"Don't be selfish," Vanitas said. "You think to end it so insignificantly, when there are still scholars here fighting to decipher the very nature of this place?"
The scholar's knees buckled under Vanitas's cold gaze, beginning to weep.
