The air in the cavern grew heavy, as everyone immediately grabbed the black daggers, all except for Dera who stood there, shocked.
A chilling tension rippled through the group as they stared at the black daggers in their arms, glinting ominously under the dim light. Each of them stood there, hesitating but ready to attack each other.
The silence was suffocating until Kaleb's voice pierced through.
"Everyone Stop!" he commanded, his tone sharp, yet his eyes remained fixed on the coffin at the center of the altar, his knuckles whitening around the hilt of his dagger.
"We don't need to kill each other for this trial!"
His words hung in the air like a fragile promise, but his expression told another story.
"There are only four daggers... but five of us. Do you know what that means?" Slowly, he turned to face Dera.
Realization dawned on Sir Ike, his voice trembling.
"Wait... are you saying—?"
"Yes," Kaleb interrupted coldly. "One of us must be the sacrifice. In other words... one of us has to die for the rest of us to live." He raised his dagger, pointing it directly at Dera.
"You knew, didn't you? That's why you didn't grab a dagger. You wanted us to kill each other so you could be the one to escape. Isn't that right, Dera?"
Dera's head dropped, his gaze fixed on the floor as his hands trembled.
"Is..... that true?" Sir Ike asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.
The color drained from Dera's face. His lips parted, but no words came out. Deep down, he had known. He had always known what the true meaning of this trial held, and that one of them had to be the sacrifice for the others to live.
And in the world where the strong tramples on the weak, a merciless world where the weak are just a fodder for the strong to get stronger, he knew deep down that he was gonna be the sacrifice, the weak.
"I'm sorry, Dera," Kaleb said, his voice devoid of pity. "I don't hate you. But your problem is simple—you were born weak."
The word "weak" echoed in Dera's mind, each syllable striking like a hammer on an anvil. He hated the word weak, loathe being called weak. His teeth clenched, his fists tightening until his knuckles ached, as he steadied his position, ready for combat. If he was going to die, at least he would take the bastard Kaleb down with him.
"Wait, Kaleb," Sir Ike began, stepping forward. "We don't know—"
"We don't have time!" Kaleb roared, his eyes wild. "Look behind you!"
The group turned in unison, and what they saw froze their blood. Emerging from the shadows guarding the gate was a monstrous figure, an abomination stitched together from their worst nightmares. Its grotesque form twisted unnaturally, its eyes glowing like embers from the abyss.
A wave of terror swept through them. Kaleb gritted his teeth.
"It's either him or all of us."
He started walking towards Dera, his blade coated in the shimmering glow of blue Aura.
Before Dera could react—
SWOOSH!
A dagger pierced his back.
KEOKS!
Blood spilled from his lips as he staggered, turning to see Mara standing behind him, her face streaked with tears.
"I'm sorry!" she wailed, stumbling backward. "I can't let that… thing… get me."
Before anyone could react, the ground rumbled violently.
BOOM!
The massive gate creaked open, its iron hinges screaming like tortured souls. Mara, consumed by panic, bolted through the gate. To everyone's shock, she passed unharmed.
"She made it!" sir ike gasped, hope flickering in his voice.
But that hope turned into desperation. The shadows were closing in, their grotesque forms slithering ever closer.
Kaleb immediately stabbed Dera in his stomach, his blade sinking deep. Blood splattered across the altar. With every stabs, the dagger would mysteriously disappear into thin air and a flame would ignite at each side of the altar. Kaleb strode past without a second glance, disappearing into the darkness beyond the gate.
Dera collapsed to his knees, blood pooling around him. He stared at Sir Ike and Arya, their faces etched with despair.
"Dera....I know that I should've been the one to stay behind," Sir Ike admitted, his voice cracking. "I also led us here. But you see....I have a pregnant wife and two kids waiting for...."
"Spare me your useless excuses," Dera rasped, his voice barely audible as his bloodied lips curled into a bitter smile. His vision blurred and he felt his consciousness slipping away "If you're going to do it... then just do it."
Tears welled in Sir Ike's eyes as he gritted his teeth. He stepped forward, his dagger trembling in his hand.
"I'm sorry," he whispered before plunging the blade into Dera's chest.
Pain tore through Dera like a lightning strike. His breathing faltered, each gasp ragged and shallow. Sir Ike turned away, unable to face him as he bowed.
"Thank you... for saving me," he choked, his voice breaking as he looked away. He couldn't bear the shame of sacrificing a youngster just to save his own skin. As he turned to leave...
"Wait," Dera croaked, his hand reaching weakly. "Help her... do it."
Ike turned to Arya, who sat curled in a corner, clutching her knees, paralyzed. Tears streaming down her face as she shook her head violently. "No! I won't!"
"You must!" Sir Ike urged, placing the final dagger in her trembling hands.
"No! Please!" she sobbed, clutching the blade but refusing to move.
"Arya....." Dera's fading voice called out, soft and strained.
"No!" she yelled out, hesitant. But the shadows were closing in.
"Arya.... it's alright.... I'll... be okay" his fading voice called out as he tried to give his very last smile. Both Arya and Sir ike, seeing dera's last smile, a smile of someone who haven't given up on life yet, couldn't help but burst out in tears.
"No!...I.... don't want to" Her sobs echoed in the cavern. But this time, sir ike and Dera looked at each other. Dera nodded at him and before she could act, Sir Ike struck her neck, rendering her unconscious.
He carried her to Dera, hesitating only for a moment before driving the dagger into his stomach. The blade burned like fire as Dera's body convulsed.
Sir Ike turned, carrying Arya through the gate, his tears falling freely.
KEOKS!
Dera coughed up blood, his gaze lifting to meet the shadow seated on the throne. Its grin widened, its eyes gleaming with cruel delight.
Suddenly, the coffin creaked open with an earsplitting BOOM as an invisible force lifted Dera's broken body. He floated toward the opened coffin.
'Telekinesis...' his mind raced.
The coffin's maw stretched wide, an endless void of darkness waiting to consume him.
Dera's lips moved one final time, though no words escaped. As the coffin shut with a deafening boom, all light vanished.
And then, silence.
CLING!
[Congratulations. You Have Passed the Final Trial: Sacrifice of the Weak.]