The Pit. A cave near the Abyssal Wellspring, a natural fissure filled with abundant demonic energy that pulsed at the Infernal Bastion's core. The ground was cracked and uneven, warped by the constant flow of demonic power. The heat radiated from the depths of the Wellspring, making every breath feel like it was being drawn from a furnace.

Days passed. Saria and Lorian fought side by side. They were a perfect duo, each anticipating the other's actions as if they could read each other's minds. When one struck, the other covered their back, ensuring no attack went unanswered. Together, they dismantled their foes with efficiency.

The siblings were a force, and together, almost no one could stand against them. As they moved through the Pit, defeating one opponent after another.

After defeating a lot of opponents, the final stages of the deathmatch loomed as only seven participants remained. The cracked ground of the Pit bore the scars of countless battles. Saria and Lorian stood face-to-face with the four other survivors in a rare moment of truce.

“We end this by taking down Arayn,” one of the contestants declared. “With him gone, the ritual ends. It’s our chance.”

The others nodded, determination etched into their weary faces. Lorian agreed without hesitation. Assassinating Arayn was his mission to begin with.

As the alliance took shape, Saria couldn’t shake an uneasy feeling twisting in her chest. While the others spoke of ambushes and plans, she remained quiet, her gaze fixed on the ground. She had seen the way Arayn moved, the terrifying dexterity in his footwork.

Lorian noticed her silence and whispered, “What’s wrong?”

Her lips pressed into a thin line before she finally murmured, “It won’t be that simple. He’s... different. Stronger than all of us combined. He must have a secret.”

Lorian met her gaze, his resolve unshaken. “Whatever his secret is, we’ll adapt. Together, we can outsmart him. We have to. This is our chance to prove that we are not just a doll.”

Despite his confidence, Saria’s doubt lingered, gnawing at the edges of her mind as the group solidified their plan. In her heart, she knew the battle ahead would be nothing like they had faced before.

The ambush began with a burst of desperate resolve. The four participants launched themselves at Arayn in an attempt to overwhelm him. Blades flashed, spells unleashed, and battle cries echoed through the cavernous Pit.

Arayn was a phantom of death, moving faster than any of them could track. His figure blurred, slipping past strikes and spells. One participant lunged, only for Arayn to appear behind him, his hand glowing with dark energy. A single touch, and the man crumpled to the ground, lifeless.

Saria’s heart pounded as she watched in horror. Another fighter swung a massive hammer, roaring with fury, but Arayn sidestepped the attack and placed a hand on his chest. The fighter froze, eyes wide, before collapsing. The others fared no better—each dispatched with the same efficiency.

In mere moments, the Pit was silent. The four were gone, their bodies strewn across the ground like discarded toys.

Saria barely had time to react before Arayn turned his gaze toward her and Lorian. She felt the pressure radiating from his crimson eyes. Before she could even raise her wand, Arayn surged forward, too fast to follow.

The blow wasn’t meant for her—it was aimed at Lorian. He dove in front of her, taking the brunt of the attack. Blood sprayed as he hit the ground hard, groaning in pain.

“Lorian!” Saria cried, dropping to his side.

Arayn stood over them, his expression one of utter disdain. “This is what you call an alliance? Worms. Did you really think you could defeat me with such laughable tactics?”

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

Saria glared up at him, trembling with a mix of fear and fury. Arayn chuckled. "Futile. All of it. You should have accepted your place as my pawns and stayed out of my way."

Saria clutched Lorian's hand, her mind racing for a way out, but Arayn remained unmoving, his presence suffocating any hope she had left.

Lorian staggered to his feet, clutching his side where blood seeped through his torn clothing. His breaths were ragged, his face pale, but his resolve burned brighter than ever. He turned to Saria, his voice strained but determined.

“Saria,” he said, his gaze locking with hers. “I figured out his secret skill. His ability—it’s tied to his dexterity. He’s burning through his dexterity stat to stay ahead of us.”

Saria’s eyes widened, her hands trembling around her wand. “You’re in no shape to fight him, Lorian. Stop—”

“No!” he cut her off, his voice a desperate growl. “If we wait, we’re dead. We have to press him now, together. His ability won’t last forever!”

Without waiting for her reply, Lorian surged forward, his ability activating. His movements became sharper, faster, his injured body ignoring its limitations. His steps left cracks in the stone as he closed the distance to Arayn with blinding speed.

Saria gritted her teeth, her heart pounding as she followed his charge, her wand ready. They attacked in unison, Lorian’s enhanced physiology creating openings while Saria left a few shallow wounds.

For a moment, it seemed as though they were making progress. Lorian’s strikes forced Arayn to defend, his once-flawless movements becoming just slightly less fluid. Saria launched a glancing blow, cutting a shallow wound along his arm.

Arayn sidestepped Lorian’s triple slashes, twisted past Saria’s projectile, and moved with a force that left them reeling.

“Now, it's slightly entertaining,” Arayn remarked. “But it's not enough.”

Lorian lunged again, his strikes growing wild as his body began to falter. Arayn seized the opening, his hand glowing with dark energy.

“No!” Saria screamed, but she was too late.

Arayn’s [Soul Rend] activated, black tendrils erupting from his hand and piercing through Lorian’s chest. The energy coiled and twisted, draining the very essence of his life. Lorian gasped, his knees buckling as his sword clattered to the ground.

“Saria…” he rasped, his voice weak yet unwavering. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth as he fell to his knees, his trembling hand reaching for her. “Survive. Live… for both of us.”

Arayn retracted the tendrils, and Lorian collapsed, lifeless, his eyes still open as if pleading for her to do well.

Saria’s world shattered. Her knees hit the ground beside his body, her chest heaving as a wave of grief and fury overtook her. Arayn stood over her, his expression indifferent.

“Another failure. How predictable.”

Saria’s hands clenched into fists, her mind a storm of despair and rage as she prepared for what felt like the end. "I will have my revenge. I will kill you and look down on you like a worm!"

Arayn stood over Saria, his presence looming like a shadow of death. Black tendrils of energy coiled around his hand, crackling and writhing with an almost sentient hunger. He stared down at her, his lips curling into a faint, disdainful smile as he raised his hand, the dark energy building into a concentrated point.

“Die shamefully, Worm,” Arayn said.

Saria couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. Her body refused to obey her, paralyzed by fear and grief as she clutched Lorian’s corpse tighter. Her mind screamed at her to do something, anything, but she could only watch as Arayn’s hand descended, the dark energy surging toward her like a tidal wave of death.

Before the blow could land, the chilling sound of the alarm echoed through the Pit, its relentless toll marking 2:00 AM. The signal stopped Arayn’s strike mere inches from her face.

He paused, the dark energy dissipating from his hand as his head turned toward the sound. The faint smirk returned to his lips.

“How ironic,” he said, his voice dripping with disdain. “You, of all people, survive. Not through strength, not through cunning, merely by the clock’s mercy.”

Saria couldn’t muster a response. Her throat felt raw, her chest heaving as sobs threatened to break free. Arayn tilted his head, observing her with a curiosity, as though weighing whether she was even worth the effort to finish off.

“I suppose leaving you alive is punishment enough,” he remarked, turning away. “Face the consequences of your failure, little worm. Perhaps they’ll teach you something your pathetic brother couldn’t.”

His figure faded into the darkness of the cavern, his steps eerily quiet against the cracked ground. Saria didn’t watch him leave. Her focus remained on Lorian’s face, her shaking fingers brushing the blood-streaked strands of his hair away from his pale features.

Tears spilled down her cheeks as she clung to Lorian’s still form, her voice breaking as she whispered, “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry.”

Sorrow wasn’t the only thing that filled her. A burning ember began to take root within her heart, feeding on the ashes of her grief. She placed a trembling hand over her brother’s chest, her nails digging into her palm.

“I swear, Lorian,” she whispered, her voice trembling but fierce. “I’ll make him pay. I’ll make them all pay.”

In the heart of the desolate Pit, Saria’s grief solidified into a vow. Alone and broken, she stared into the void left behind by her brother’s death, her tears drying as the weight of her promise anchored her to the path ahead.