"Thank goodness you're alright..."
Siona rushes over and pulls Eirwen into a tight hug at the cafeteria, with Therion trailing behind her, making his way toward us where we've already claimed a table to rest.
The frail girl beside me—still barely keeping herself upright—gets nearly spun around by Siona's sudden force, twisted almost a full one-eighty on the bench. A breathless whisper escapes her lips, soft and broken, pleading under her breath for forgiveness.
Meanwhile, Therion slides into the seat across from me, settling at the edge of the bench. There's a faint sense of relief in his eyes… but it's clear he isn't going to let it end there.
So, with a quiet firmness, the boy asks, "Where have you three been?"
I simply point a finger at Sigvald in response while chewing my food, unfazed.
"Oh? A new member?" he remarks.
"Something like that," Garrik replies shortly.
"I didn't expect to see you again... Uh, Sigvald, right?" Siona says, still clinging tightly to Eirwen as she glances over at us… But Sigvald, however, takes it the wrong way.
He scowls and fires back, "It's only been ten days since we last spoke... Why are you acting like it's been years?"
"Because, after all the work we did together in the early days, you suddenly pulled away from the group without any clear reason. That's why!"
"Yeah, sorry... I just meant to keep my distance in my own way, to protect you all."
"Really?" Siona's voice softens, her sternness fading.
"I just thought I was too far behind the rest of the league... I'm not that strong in open combat, after all. I was afraid others would use me as bait to get to you guys."
"Oh, come on, you know that's not true."
"Anyway, the important thing is, he's joined our team now... I think that's some pretty good news, right?" I deliberately steer the conversation in a different direction—and thankfully, that earns a nod from everyone.
"How many died today again? I didn't catch it when that old man said it," Siona mutters, her voice low as she walks beside Eirwen. We're all heading back to our cells, as our footsteps echo faintly through the dim corridor—lit only by a dwindling number of candles, fewer than the day before.
I hear Eirwen reply quietly, "Five... With us included, that makes eighteen still alive."
"Not many left now, huh?" Siona says, almost under her breath. "If tomorrow ends up like today... then come the third day, it might just be us left—facing Orion's team."
There's a pause in her voice, subtle but heavy. Like she still can't quite wrap her head around the idea—whether it's us who'll have to kill Orion, or the other way around. Of the fact that there are two Solmarians, one must die and the other must survive... It's as if she's hoping there's a middle ground in all of this, a way to avoid that brutal outcome.
And yet… somehow, I can't bring myself to say anything about it.
I just trail silently behind the others—Siona, Eirwen, Garrik, and Therion, my eyes fixed on their backs and the slow rhythm of their footsteps, one by one. Sigvald, on the other hand, walks beside me. His gaze flickers toward something beyond a set of rusted bars—an old cage half-swallowed by shadow.
Curious, I glance at him and ask, "What is it?"
"There's nothing. Or… maybe there is," he mutters. "Feels like something's trying to call out to me, but I've got no idea who."
"Do we need to check it out?"
"Nah, no need," he replies with a tired breath. "I've had enough for one day."
It's rare—but this time, I can actually sense the lie in his voice. Subtle, almost buried beneath the fatigue, but it's there. Still, I choose to let it go. I understand his reason, and it's probably for the best.
He likely intends to check it out on his own, away from the rest of us, slipping off without saying anything. If that's what he wants to do, then so be it.
Meanwhile, I head straight for my bunk, in the same cell I share with Garrik and Therion. As I lie back and stare at the damp stone ceiling above me, there's this strange flicker of excitement rising in my chest—because the end of all this finally feels close.
I shut my eyes, trying to calm my scattered thoughts, letting the silence carry me into sleep. My consciousness starts to slip, drifting halfway into dreams… until that familiar pain in my chest flares up again.
A violent cough rips out of me—once, then twice, then again. And just like that, the night drags on, each breath burning as I wait for morning to come.
~~~~~
"I'm guessing you didn't get much sleep last night."
I turn toward the voice of a boy… Even if the tone had been different or deliberately masked—which it clearly wasn't—I would've known it was Garrik. No one else would speak like that. So, I responded with a quiet edge, "You should've been in the same boat as me."
"Sooner or later... what difference does it make?"
Garrik stretches his limbs as the last eighteen of us march slowly toward the massive pit—the one from the first trial.
It's there I finally see Sigvald again, after he vanished last night. He flicks my shoulder and leans in to whisper, "I've got word from Myrrhiel and her friends."
"Wait… She joined someone else?"
"No. They just asked her to help spread the message."
"And that message is?"
"People are planning to take out Orion and his team. Before tomorrow. Starting now."
"Of course they are." My answer is short, sharp, and unsurprised. "Matter of fact, we should help them with it."
Sigvald nods silently beside me as I glance around. Across the clearing, I catch Myrrhiel glancing in our direction—just for a heartbeat—before quickly averting her gaze. And a few paces to her left stands the kid I saved on the first day, back on the conveyor belt. He's staring down at the surface of the still water, his brow traced with cold sweat.
"How's it going with him?" I ask, nodding toward the boy.
"Not great…" came the answer from Sigvald. "His team originally had seven people, but three of them died two days ago. Some in this pool, the rest fell into a ravine during the second trial. I've also heard he's been running from just about every fight—chimera, undead, doesn't matter. He keeps avoiding them all."
No wonder I rarely ever see him around. Honestly it's even a bit shocking he's made it this far. Somehow. And yet... I still hesitate when it comes to him. I haven't decided whether he deserves to live or die.
I mean, he's the reason this team even exists… The reason others started looking at me like I was someone who came here to help. That moment—when I caught his hand as he nearly slipped into the void—
I don't know why, but it feels like everything began from there.
Unfortunately, he has to die… I need him dead.
But I don't want it to be by my own hand. Also there's still some use left in him—maybe enough to help tip the scales. If all goes well today, if everyone plays their part, maybe we can end this. Maybe Orion and his team can fall here, rightnow… And perhaps the boy will die in the process—killed by Orion or one of his allies.
Please… for whatever gods still watch this place, don't let it be me.
Because I know—if I'm the one who ends him, it'll scar something inside me.
I've never felt this kind of hesitation with anyone I've killed before, but I can't deny that I've changed… I'm not the same person I was. I'm more aware now... more human, maybe. And that's what makes it dangerous. I'm afraid whatever it does to me—it won't fade.
It'll stay buried somewhere in my mind, and mess with me long after this is done. And as that feeling of guilt surged within me, something suddenly jolted deep inside—perhaps it came from my mind, or somewhere deeper like from my very soul. It felt as if something inside me had responded to that emotion And it responded with… disappointment.
"This isn't what I expected from you when I chose your soul, Deon."
A whisper echoed from behind my skull, stirring a desire to ask it something. But before I could, a sudden scream pierced the air from behind me.
"Trying to act tough, huh!?"
The old man's voice shrieked, his walking cane pressing sharply against my back, snapping me back into reality.
It turned out that everyone around me had already jumped into the hole, while for some reason, I found myself still standing at its edge. The warning window for Defiance Progress had already hit ten percent, but I don't want to argue about it.
I decided to jump straight into the water. A few people around glance at me with confused expressions while I give no response to them, deliberately acting as if what I just did isn't strange at all. Instead, I dive in, swimming swiftly, guiding my teammates toward the hole where the metal grate will soon open.
"Earlier, back in the first hole—what happened, Deon?"
Siona asks as she surfaces, but I just shake my head and offer a vague response, one meant to make them stop thinking about it… Since it's also me who needs to push past it. I need to focus on this one very matter instead of anything else. I need to find a way, or at least assist with the plan the others have to take down Orion as soon as possible... all while staying ready for whatever threat might come for us in return.
"Garrik? Where's that kid?"
I call out, suddenly remembering something that might be useful.
Causing a few of the others to glance around in confusion, searching for him—until he finally emerges from behind Therion.
"You called for me?" he asks.
"The spell for ice magic—it's Isvryn, right?"
"Yeah, that's right. Why?"
"Can it freeze water? Like, if cast a certain way?"
"Oh, I'm afraid spells that alter water temperature and elemental ice magic are two entirely different things, Deon."
"Seriously? You never taught me that. So what's the spell for freezing water then?"
Garrik goes quiet for a moment, biting his lip like he's hesitating—maybe because he genuinely doesn't know anything about it.
"Isn't your family name Frostbane?"
"It is. But, you see… I'm not exactly on good terms with my father's side of the family. I only learned magic from my mother, and she specialized in wind."
"Right…" I sigh, disappointed.
"And even if they had taught me their magic, it'd be Frostbane-specific—stuff that only works with their bloodline."
"Ah, damn… that's right. You did mention that once before."
And I mean it… He did mention once that most noble families in this realm possess unique spells—magic that can only be cast by someone who shares the family name. I never fully understood how that works, especially since Garrik himself barely remembers what he was taught back in magic school about that stuff. But honestly, it's not as special as it sounds.
For example, there are plenty of spells tied to water and ice elements that anyone can use. However, the Frostbane family has their own exclusive incantations—spells crafted with a special word known only to their bloodline. The effects aren't radically different from the general equivalents available to the public.
The only real difference is in efficiency—bloodline spells tend to be just a little bit more potent and consume a bit less mana. Maybe they also come with some kind of passive skill that boosts frost resistance, but that's about as far as the perks go.
Which is why Garrik never felt the need to memorize the standard elemental ice spells—he had his own exclusive ones, tailored to his bloodline… Spells specifically crafted for the Frostbanes.
"Unless you marry one of my sisters, I suppose I'll have no choice but to teach you everything about it."
"Unfortunately, there's a good chance she's already a grandmother by now."
"How dare you..."
Garrik pretends to be offended, chuckling lightly before he grows serious again. "Even if we knew the spell to freeze the water, wouldn't that also put us in danger?"
So I then respond just as seriously, "It shouldn't be… I mean, I have a specific way in mind if only I knew that spell... Sure, the water in some places might become dangerously cold, but that's the only real issue we'd face."
"I didn't think you two could joke so casually about something like that from before."
Siona's voice suddenly intrudes, cutting through the moment. Garrik and I toss out half-hearted apologies—empty words, really. We both know we don't mean it.
Time's up anyway. We've got to move, fast, before someone else gets to the next hole ahead of us. Also five hours isn't exactly a short amount of time, even a brief lapse in focus could throw off our tempo. If that happens, our team's position could end up way too close to the others—and that's the last thing we want.
My hope is for us to be the first to reach every hole, arriving five seconds before the grate rises. We stay there for just fifteen seconds, then dive again, moving on to the next hole even before Orion's team shows up as the second, followed by the only other remaining team as the third… all while making sure we're never caught in the middle of whatever it is they're planning to make happen.
But if something does have to happen during the first trial today with us getting involved, then it needs to happen in the fourth hour—ideally within the last thirty to sixty minutes before the trial ends… The idea is to anticipate any failure that could lead to a drawn-out fight and a complete waste of stamina we'll desperately need just to stay alive.
Unfortunately, that kind of forethought seems completely lost on the desperate team. At every hole, they just keep exchanging glances—each one silently hoping someone else will be the first to make a move. Just one bold spark to ignite the rest into action.
And eventually, in the second hour—while my entire team and I are swimming through the underwater tunnels toward the next hole—an abrupt shift in the water pressure and a deep vibration pulsing through the stone walls tells us that something has just happened at the previous hole… In the fifteen seconds that were supposed to belong only to us—just our team at the hole—suddenly everything falls apart. Bursting into the hole comes the third-place team: four battered figures, and Myrrhiel as their temporary ally.
They must've been completely overrun at the previous hole. I can tell by the way they force themselves through the water, clinging to what little oxygen they have left. Two of them are dragging an unconscious teammate—lungs probably half-filled with water. And the others aren't doing much better either.
Burns sear their faces, bruises ring their necks like cruel collars, and claw marks trail down their limbs. They look like they barely survived whatever hit them—and now they've stumbled straight into our path, with Orion's team closing in fast.
Both the leaders of the team and Myrrhiel look at me and Sigvald, their eyes silently screaming for help, yet they choose to remain silent. The problem is that, aside from the girl, none of them are my allies. They're my enemies. If I want to make it out of here alive, they have to die. I have no reason to help them.
And to be honest, I'm starting to get frustrated with the girl… Why did she agree to work with them instead of us? And if I decide not to help, there's a real chance that Myrrhiel will hate us and never consider joining our side.
All of this causes me to lower my gaze, lost in thought, as time continues to slip by mercilessly… I have to make a decision, and I need to make it now.
But after thinking it through carefully, for some strange reason, I end up choosing the worst possible option. I turn to my team and say, "You guys go on ahead to the next hole. Garrik, you know the way, right?"
And instead of the response from the one that I was expecting, it's Siona who speaks up, her voice full of suspicion. "What exactly are you planning to do?"
"Probably something stupid," I answer briefly, my gaze shifting to Garrik, who nods in confirmation of my earlier question. Finally, my eyes settle on Sigvald… There's something I need to whisper to him, so I swim closer, positioning myself with my back to the others as they prepare to dive, then I speak quietly to Sigvald, "For now, guide them to follow the others. When and how they meet their end is my responsibility. But this will be our last chance to convince Myrrhiel to join us, so I'm entrusting that task to you."
"I understand... Take care of yourself," the boy says, nodding seriously. He then turns and swims toward the four boys and the girl, saying something that makes them exchange glances and nod in agreement. One by one, their heads disappear into the water, leaving me alone in the hole with its metal grate that will soon descend.
The likely reason Orion's team hasn't arrived here yet is because they've decided to tend to their wounds and share HP, dealing with the aftereffects of what they've inflicted on those who started it… In other words, they're fully aware of their intention to delay and arrive late.
And that's exactly what I intend to take advantage of here.
~~~~~