"Carry him back to the bed."
Seeing Ronald collapse, Jason signaled the male players to lend a hand in lifting him.
Shortly after they placed Ronald onto the bed, the village chief entered.
Noticing all the players gathered, Ronald still alive, the corners of the chief's mouth involuntarily drooped in disdain.
"How can you pay respects to the ancestral hall in this state?"
"We can carry him there," Jason replied.
"…Very well then."
With combined effort, several players lifted Ronald and began moving out.
The village chief still held the red lantern high. The village path was as silent and lifeless as the previous night. Yet Eric sensed watchful eyes lurking within the darkened windows, casting an eerie chill over her spirit.
Suddenly, Christine uttered a startled cry, immediately clamping her hands over her mouth, trembling as she leaned against Eric for support.
Startled, Eric steadied her. "What's wrong?"
The other players glanced over, and even the village chief ceased his steps.
"N-nothing," Christine murmured, burying her face in Eric's arm.
"Don't be so noisy; you might disturb the spirit infants!" the chief admonished before turning away.
Jason, Kevin, and Timothy bore Ronald's weight and pressed onward, too occupied to notice. Samantha drew near, her voice low with concern, "What is it?"
As the procession resumed, Christine finally spoke in a barely audible whisper: "Look beneath our feet—the shadows." She gestured swiftly ahead. Following her finger, the players observed closely.
The village chief led the way; his shadow cast normally.
Behind him were four male players: Jason and Kevin carried Ronald's lower half, their proximity sometimes causing their shadows to merge; Timothy supported Ronald's neck, struggling with the latter's restless movements that caused occasional staggering.
At first glance, their shadows appeared unremarkable.
The anomaly lay with Ronald's shadow.
At some indeterminate moment, countless small children's hands and feet had begun to manifest along the edges of his silhouette, tiny limbs clawing incessantly. Absent knowledge that it belonged to Ronald, one might have mistaken the shadow for some grotesque creature's reflection.
Nicole recoiled, hastily covering her mouth to stifle any cry.
Eric felt a surge of dread; how could this be? When had Ronald's shadow begun to distort so horrifically?
Samantha whispered to Christine, "When did you notice?"
"Just now... it startled me."
"It was fine before—why the sudden change?"
Eric looked toward the ancestral hall nearby and conjectured, "Could it be proximity to the shrine?"
She stopped and glanced back at her own shadow.
It remained perfectly still. Ahead, the chief's lantern faded with distance, stretching elongated and faint shadows behind him—
A small hand emerged from the area over Eric's abdomen, swiftly retracting, followed by a tiny foot kicking out from her shoulder.
In an instant, the little foot vanished back into her silhouette.
Drawing a deep breath to steady herself, Eric reminded herself: wasn't she already aware of harboring a spirit fetus? Accepting its spectral manifestation as a shadow seemed less jarring.
Samantha and the others halted to inspect their own shadows, each witnessing the fleeting appearances of mischievous tiny hands and feet.
Christine's lips turned pale. "Mine… mine has two pairs of hands. It seems I am truly carrying twins."
Regret overwhelmed her; as one of the earliest to consume the Child-Giving Soup, she had still succumbed to nausea and vomiting. The torment of swallowing that vile brew was one agony—but to vomit it away and endure the curse anew was a double hardship. Her plight was only marginally better than Ronald's.
A thought took root: might she revisit the ancestral hall and drink the soup again?
She confided her contemplation softly, and Samantha hesitated to respond.
"You must consider carefully," Samantha cautioned.
But Christine sought reassurance. "Do you think it won't work?"
Not indecisive by nature, Christine was merely a novice in such supernatural trials; the twins growing within and the ensuing uncontrollable hunger were eroding her sanity.
She feared being different—being marked, like Ronald, both teetering on the brink of peril. Desperate, she longed for support, unwilling to make another grievous mistake.
Observing Christine's feverish desperation, as if grasping at a final straw, Samantha sighed and offered counsel: "Take time to steady yourself. Your condition is not as dire as Ronald's—you can still restrain yourself, right? That Child-Giving Soup... I believe neither abstaining nor overindulgence is wise. Watch what befalls Ronald after tonight's rituals first."
"Really?" Christine turned to Eric and Nicole. "What do you think?"
"I agree with Samantha," Eric admitted. As a fellow novice in this supernatural trial, she was still feeling her way forward and reluctant to advise others.
Nicole proposed, "You threw up some before, right? Why not try drinking a little more? Maybe it will make up for that?"
Samantha immediately shot Nicole a disapproving glance. Nicole lowered her eyes.
Driven by hunger-induced delirium, Christine's judgment faltered. Suddenly, her eyes brightened. "Yes, yes—I'll just drink a little more!"
"Christine, listen to me—" Samantha hurried to dissuade her.
"We're here. Enter." The village chief announced.
The group halted. Samantha realized they had arrived at the entrance of the ancestral hall.
The crimson glow of the lanterns at the ancestral hall entrance bathed the courtyard in radiant light, casting vivid shadows that danced before them. Eric had no time to ponder the intent behind Nicole's earlier words; instead, she fixed her gaze upon the shadows beneath their feet. At that moment, the uncanny anomalies within each silhouette flickered with unnatural vitality, and a faint stirring stirred within her own abdomen.
*Pat!*
She felt her belly swell as the entity inside writhed with restless vigor. Placing her hand atop her swollen womb, she discerned a powerful, pulsating rhythm—not the tender miracle of new life, but one that seethed with terror.
The spirit fetus within her seemed to be catalyzed by proximity to the hall, as if desperate to claw its way forth from the confines of her abdomen.
Ronald, set down on the ground, uttered agonized cries as his belly was kicked and battered into a grotesque mass, unrecognizable as human flesh.
Unable to bear the sight, Eric hastened backward, urgently shouting, "We must leave the ancestral hall immediately!"
"Flee the hall at once!" Samantha's alarm echoed beside her.
In tacit understanding, they each seized the nearest players—Eric pulling Nicole to safety, Samantha attempting to restrain Christine, though to no avail.
Jason, sensing unease after laying Ronald down, heard the women's cries and without hesitation, urged the group to withdraw from the hall.
Except for Ronald and Christine left behind, the others retreated several meters away.
"Being near the hall unsettles me. Ronald's belly churns so violently, I fear it might burst," Timothy clutched his own abdomen and panted, turning to Eric. "Have you noticed anything?"
"It was Christine who first noticed—our shadows changed upon nearing the hall," Eric explained briefly. Kevin glanced at his own shadow but, having distanced himself from the hall and its light, found none apparent.
"Christine's still there—" Samantha ground her teeth, watching Christine steady Ronald as they re-entered the hall. Her anger flared. Turning to Nicole, she scolded, "This dungeon's situation remains unclear. How could you lead her into such peril?"
Nicole dared not meet her gaze, whispering meekly, "It was her choice—I cannot be blamed."
"She is not in her right mind!" Samantha shot back coldly. "You risk other players' lives as pawns to test the way forward. Don't blame yourself when you become the sacrifice—karma always returns in kind."
Having spoken, Samantha distanced herself, making clear she wished no alliance with Nicole.
Timothy, bewildered, asked, "What's going on? Why the quarrel?"
He looked at Eric, who remained silent. From their exchange, she understood Nicole's intentions, and grew wary of her, stepping aside as well.
"Let's rest a while, wait for Ronald to emerge," Jason noted, sensing the tense atmosphere among the women. He neither pursued the matter nor sought to arbitrate. Despite his own discomfort, he sat on the ground, eyes fixed upon the ancestral hall.
Eric settled nearby, relieved as the stirring within her belly subsided once distanced from the hall's ominous presence.
The hall's doors closed, and the village chief stationed himself at the threshold.
Then Eric saw him lean against the door, peering through its cracks. The image chilled her to the bone—had he been spying thus last night as the players prayed inside?
Her thoughts were interrupted by a sudden, blood-curdling scream from within.
"It's Ronald!"
The agonized cries raged for over ten seconds, unbearably harrowing.
Unable to remain seated, the players rose en masse and turned toward the hall.
Inside, Christine's empty bowl clattered to the floor. She took several steps back and collapsed, utterly shaken.
Her pupils dilated wildly, lips trembling; she was gripped by pure terror.
Leaning over Ronald, Christine performed three bows and three kowtows, then administered the Child-Giving Soup to him. One bowl vanished quickly, and in the next moment, Ronald's stomach exploded.
The explosion was literal—blood splattered across them all. Christine reeled back, touching her face only to pull away a patch of flesh still matted with hair.
A scream tore from her throat as the final threads of her sanity snapped.
The Child-Giving Soup expelled the "excess" fetuses from Ronald's womb. Though wracked with agony, his mind regained clarity. Uncertain of what had transpired, his survival instinct urged him to deploy a supernatural healing pack.
Instantly, all pain receded; his wounds mended completely. For the first time, Ronald's mind felt lucid and sharp.
Surrounded by fragmented limbs and debris, he searched for footing, palming his abdomen where once it had felt enormous—now it had shrunk to a fraction of its former size.
The lingering metallic stench of the Child-Giving Soup still coated his mouth, yet Ronald was filled with elation. He knew he had gambled correctly and rectified his mistake.