Misfortune struck as Aya tripped over her own feet. Shamed and frozen in shock, fear surged through her. She clenched her fists and bit her lower lip, realizing the gravity of her mistake.
The entire room was staring. Her cat mask had slipped off during the fall, leaving her face exposed for all to see.
"Hey, what's with that tail?"
"Isn't that a fox? Wait... she's the one on the posters."
"What? You mean the bounty posters?"
"She's a rare fox!"
Cruel sneers spread across the guests' faces. One by one, they began to encircle her. Aya slowly pushed herself up, her heart hammering against her ribs.
"Heh, a rare fox indeed. Pity she's only grown three tails so far."
Her body felt like lead as the comments poured in. For a moment, she felt paralyzed, but the instinct to survive—and Ficky's warnings—kicked in.
I should have just stayed in the bar, she thought with bitter regret.
Suddenly, her limbs felt light again. Before they could pounce, Aya bolted toward the grand staircase just a few meters away.
I have to get out of here! her mind screamed.
The palace was a masterpiece of gold and light, but the shattered chandelier and the bodies beneath it were a grim reminder of the "Phantom" game and the "Murderer" lurking within.
"Hey! After her!"
"Don't let her escape!"
Aya scrambled up the stairs toward the second floor. She couldn't risk a dash for the main doors; too many guests were blocking the exit. Her three fox tails, now fully visible and bristling, made her an irresistible target for the greedy crowd.
"I'm not a fox! Stay away!" Aya cried out, her breath coming in ragged gasps.
"Shut up!"
"Not a fox? Then explain the tails, brat!"
There was no point in lying when the evidence was waving behind her. As she glanced back over her shoulder, she hit a step awkwardly and tumbled again.
"Ouch! Thank god for good reflexes!" She managed to grab the railing, saving herself from a tumble down the stairs, though her head knocked painfully against the wood.
"HEY!!"
A barrage of magic followed her—bolts of light and shadows streaking through the air. For a split second, Aya was mesmerized. The sheer beauty of the magic locked her gaze.
"Wait! No time to be impressed!" she yelled at herself, snapping back to reality.
Despite the danger, a part of her was still fascinated by the supernatural world. She scrambled to her feet.
At least these are spells and not wild beasts—I hate beasts!
She resumed her climb as the spells blasted craters into the marble steps behind her.
She took the stairs two at a time, her lungs burning. She was being hunted by time itself. If she didn't reach the top, she was finished. With a final burst of energy, she reached the upper landing. The mob was barely five steps behind her.
"Dwarf, I need your help! Do something!" she whispered, rubbing the ring of roots and flowers on the back of her hand.
For a heartbeat, nothing happened. Then, thick green vines erupted from the floorboards, entangling the legs of the pursuing guests and pulling them into a chaotic heap.
"Yes! That's it! No one can catch me now!" she cheered inwardly. But her victory was short-lived.
The second floor was just as grand, just as golden, and—to her horror—just as crowded.
"What?"
She hadn't expected the second floor to be filled with guests as well. Curiously, the people up here seemed completely oblivious to the massacre and the chase happening in the ballroom below.
"Wait, you! Don't run!"
"Someone prep a high-level spell for her!"
Realizing the guests on the second floor weren't an immediate threat yet, Aya ducked behind a massive pillar to catch her breath.
Is Ficky here? she wondered desperately.
She peeked left and right. Seeing that the mob from below was still struggling with the vines, she darted from pillar to pillar, trying to stay out of sight.
"Hey, what happened to you?"
Aya jumped, nearly leaping out of her skin. A man in a Stag Mask was looking at her. He seemed like an ordinary guest, but his demeanor was strangely calm compared to the others.
"Y-yes?" she stammered.
"Your mask is gone. Did you lose it while those people were chasing you?" he guessed, pointing toward the stairs.
"If you know what's going on, why are you acting so casual?" Aya asked, backing away from him with narrowed eyes.
"Don't be afraid. I have no interest in hunting someone like you. In fact, I might even protect you."
"I don't believe you."
Aya turned and ran deeper into the second-floor corridors. She spotted a series of doors at the end of the hall—a dressing room, if her hunch was right. She needed a disguise.
She ducked inside, her breath hitching. Thank goodness. I'm safe for a second.
She slid down the door, letting out a long sigh as the exhaustion took hold. After a moment, she stood up and searched for something new to wear.
"I'm sorry, Ficky. I have to ditch the clothes you gave me. Even though these were comfortable."
She found a black gown that would blend in with the other guests, along with a new animal mask—a different character to hide her identity. She could finally merge back into the crowd.
"I'll keep the old clothes with me for later. I just need to get out of this palace without the people downstairs seeing me."
Her mind whirred with plans as she stepped out of the dressing room. But as she emerged, she wasn't met with safety.
Several guests were standing there, their masks hiding predatory smiles.
"How stupid," a man's voice muttered from the crowd—a man who had been blending in perfectly.