Deep in the River God Temple.
In a dark little room, a black table, a copper bowl, an iron cage.
The old crone gnawed on her own pale hands with a crunch in front of the copper bowl, and in just a moment, her ten fingers were gnawed to a bloody pulp by her own doing.
She seemed to feel no pain, rather licking the blood dripping from her fingertips with relish.
Inside the rune-decorated iron cage, a small hedgehog with prickly spines was curled up.
The little hedgehog had a strange book box on its back. Upon closer inspection, the straps of that book box had deeply embedded into the little hedgehog's shoulders.
Blood was faintly seeping from where the straps were.
The little hedgehog was originally curled up motionlessly, but as the old crone gnawed on her fingers and muttered to herself—
Her words grew more and more deranged: "Fragrant, so fragrant...Even through the Water Dragon Mirror, I can already smell that astonishing fragrance!
