William lay limp on the ground, tears swelling in his eyes. The pain of losing an arm was not the cause—it was the loss of a comrade, someone he had deemed a friend. Regardless, both had been taken away by the same individual: the one who now stood before him with the tip of his spear aimed at the blacksmith's forehead.
"..."
The silence was dreadful, so oppressive that William could hear his own racing heartbeat and the blood dripping from his shoulder. His teeth chattered as he braced himself for the inevitable, but the man with the spear remained still, merely observing him.
William grew impatient. He wanted it to be over quickly. Waiting for death was worse than death itself.
"Just kill me, dammit!"
"Why?"
William's eyes widened. "What do you mean, 'why'?! Weren't you about to kill me?"
"I was."
"Then what the hell?!"
"Why are you so mad about it? You're acting as if you want to die."
"I wasn't..." William gritted his teeth.
"I was planning to take you out the moment you stepped inside, but that was before I realized you possessed an extraordinary gift."
"What are you talking about?"
The man lowered his weapon. "Why do you act like you don't know? Ever since you arrived, my pets have craved the power you hold. I didn't understand it at first, but now that I see it—now that I feel its presence within you—I understand."
A cold sweat rolled down William's face. "I... don't know what you mean."
"Don't play coy. You have a remarkable gift. It could only have been granted by that being. You were chosen."
The tattooed man raised his hands, forming a triangle with his index fingers and thumbs. He began to murmur some kind of prayer.
"This is messed up," William muttered.
Slowly, he dragged himself backward, away from the man, until his hand touched a puddle. When he looked down, he realized it was blood—Olivia's blood.
There was no corpse. The impact had been so powerful that her body had been torn apart into chunks of flesh. The wall behind him was smeared with blood, fragments of organs clinging to its surface. The sight was too much. William turned away and vomited.
—I'm so sorry, Olivia. I'm such an incompetent fool. This is all my fault.
His strength to push forward vanished the moment Olivia had left this world. Watching yet another person die because of him crushed him completely.
"Do you want to know where the boy is?"
Without noticing, the tattooed man had closed the distance between them.
The question caught William's breath. "Are you talking about Nicolas?"
"He's a powerful being, though still underdeveloped. He could serve as a great appetizer if negotiations go south."
William gritted his teeth. "Like hell you will! Tell me where he is—!"
The spear dug deep into his remaining arm.
"Careful. You don't want to lose the only arm you have left. Impatience can get you killed, you know?"
William screamed in agony. "Who the hell are you?!"
The man extended his arms wide. "I am the keeper of this place. If someone dares to enter, I must kill them on sight. Though, I might make an exception for you—but only if you join me."
"What could possibly make you think I'd join you?"
"You've sensed it too, haven't you? The presence that greeted you when you stepped in. Didn't you hear the voice in the garden?"
William's eyes widened. "I—what are you talking about?! Nothing you say makes any sense!"
"I see... you're still pretending."
The tattooed man circled him. "Just like you, I was chosen. I was granted newfound strength. It even helped me find my pets... Come out."
With a snap of his fingers, the earth trembled. The walls and ceiling seemed to close in, and then—they emerged.
"What the hell..."
Six serpents slithered in from all directions, positioning themselves behind the tattooed man.
"I assume you've seen them before. These are my pets. They obey my every command. With them, I have eyes everywhere. I've been watching your every move. Whether you like it or not, you don't have much of a choice—unless you want to die."
"—All this time... it was you."
The deaths William had witnessed—even his own suffering—had all been orchestrated by this man. Every plan that had failed, every doubt that had crept into his mind about his ability to save anyone, all stemmed from him.
"All the cuts and bruises I've endured, all the comrades I left behind, the ones I saw die... I even manipulated people for my own gain. You brought out the worst in me. Every hardship I've faced these past hours has been because of you. I've never wished this upon anyone, but you... you deserve to die!"
"Hm? Do you really mean that? Even with all the disadvantages, you still want to face me? Isn't that a death wish?"
"I'm not afraid of death." William stood up. "I deserve it. I've become trash—just like you. But the difference is, you're the worst kind of all. You need to meet your end."
The pain from his injuries vanished. His skin turned a sickly gray. His right eye's iris burned red, its sclera black. His hair darkened into the deepest black, and bloody crimson lines streaked across his body. His remaining hand transformed into sharp claws. He no longer resembled a man, but a demon.
"The power within you... it surpasses my expectations. There's no doubt—it could only have been gifted by the Divine One."
"Die, die, die!" William screamed.
The man in front of him was gone. In his place stood an empty shell, consumed by bloodlust. It lunged toward the tattooed man, claws poised to strike, but each attack was intercepted by the spear, forcing William back. Despite his speed and raw power, his attacks were wild, uncoordinated. It was too easy to dodge.
He ran along the walls, trying to build momentum, but his foot slipped on Olivia's blood and entrails.
"Hm? What's this?" The tattooed man chuckled. "I see... All that power, yet you can't even control it."
"Die, die, die!"
"Very well. I suppose this will be your end."
The tattooed man spun his spear and hurled it. William raised his arms to block it, but before he could react, a powerful fist slammed into his face, sending him crashing into the wall, leaving a deep crack upon impact.
"What a waste."
William lay on the floor, unresponsive. His monstrous form slowly receded, returning him to his human self. The tattooed man took this opportunity to finish the job. Calling back his spear, he aimed for William's heart.
"Goodbye, blessed one—hm? You're still lingering around these parts?"
A figure approached. A man with red hair, adjusting his glasses, smirked.
"So this is where you were. It was really troublesome tracking you down, Sir William."