Day four:

When I finally woke up, I was back in the cold, sterile, white room, completely alone. The events from before—the magic contract, the horrific scene beyond the iron door—rushed back into my mind like a nightmare.

Two young boys around my age had a magic duel. This was a brutal, merciless fight to the death. Unlike at the magic academy, where protective wards kept students safe, here there was nothing—no shield to soften the blow of spells, no instructors to step in when it became too dangerous. Just raw, unchecked violence.

I could still see it clearly in my mind. The blond boy’s wind-cut spell had severed his opponent’s arm in a spray of crimson, blood pouring out in a sickening stream. And yet, the dark-haired boy fought on, his eyes wild with pain and rage, casting a fireball that engulfed the blond boy in searing flames. The air had filled with the smell of burning flesh, and the boy’s screams echoed in my head, impossible to forget.

Tears began to spill down my cheeks. This place… it was nothing like the academy. There were no rules to protect us. Here, life and death were played out in real time, and everyone seemed willing to go to any lengths to survive, no matter the cost.

A quiet, desperate question bubbled up inside me. Am I going to die here?

My chest tightened, and I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to hold back the sobs. I was trapped in this hellish place, and I didn’t know if I’d be able to survive long enough to see my family again.

After a while, the walls around me shifted, the pristine white sliding away. Then, without warning, a tall, stern man stepped into view. He looked down at me with an icy gaze.

“Get up,” he commanded, his tone brooking no argument.

I didn’t move, still rolled in a tight ball, hugging myself for whatever small comfort it could give. My mind was too clouded with fear and despair, the images of that brutal duel replaying over and over. The blond boy’s screams, the smell of burning flesh… it all felt so real, so immediate, as if I were still standing there, helpless.

The man’s voice snapped like a whip, cutting through my haze. “I said, get up.” His tone was sharp, impatient, and the authority in it made me flinch.

I forced myself to uncurl, wiping the tears from my face with trembling hands. My legs felt weak, but I managed to push myself up to stand, because I feared what he might do if I disobeyed.

The man’s gaze never softened; it was as cold and unyielding as steel.

“Good. From now on, there will be no time for weakness. No second chances.“

“Why… why are you doing this?” I stammered. “Why are you making kids… fight like this?”

He tilted his head slightly, as if he were mildly amused by my question. “Because the real world isn’t kind, girl. Power is everything, and the weak are nothing more than fodder for the strong. Consider this place a… refining process. Those who make it out of here will be ready to face anything.”

His words made my stomach churn. I wanted to scream at him, to tell him that this wasn’t strength, that this was just cruelty disguised as some twisted form of training. But I knew better than to argue.

The man straightened and gestured toward the door. “Come. It’s time to introduce you to your first challenge.”

A chill swept through me, but I followed, my heart pounding. My mind screamed at me to resist, to fight back, but my body was already moving, compelled by fear and desperation.

We stepped out into a long hallway lined with iron doors, each marked with a different colored rune and number. Faint sounds leaked through them—murmurs, sobs, and in one instance, a chilling scream that made my blood run cold. I kept my gaze down, trying not to think about what horrors lay behind each door.

The man finally stopped in front of a door marked with a red rune, etched with intricate symbols. He opened it without a word, revealing a small, empty room with walls made of stone, far different from the sterile white of my holding cell.

I looked up at him, confused. “What… what am I supposed to do?”

He gave a mirthless smile. “You’re going to fight. Consider this your warm-up.”

I blinked, feeling my heart drop. “Fight… who?”

In answer, he snapped his fingers, and another door on the opposite side of the room opened. A girl, perhaps a year or two older than me, stepped through, her expression hard and wary. She looked me up and down, sizing me up.

Stolen story; please report.

The realization hit me like a punch to the gut. He expects me to fight her. To hurt her—or worse.

“No,” I breathed, taking a step back, shaking my head. “I-I can’t…”

The man’s eyes narrowed, his mouth twisting into a cruel sneer. “You don’t have a choice. It’s kill or be killed here. If you refuse, she won’t hesitate to finish you herself.”

The other girl’s gaze locked onto mine. I could see it in her eyes—she had already accepted the rules of this place and was ready to kill me to stay alive.

My body trembled, my breath coming in shallow gasps. I didn’t want this. I didn’t want to hurt anyone. But as I looked into the girl’s eyes, filled with fear and determination, I realized that I didn’t have a choice.

Slowly, I stammered, “I… I will fight.”

“Good,” the man said with indifference. “Now, show me that you deserve to be here. Show me you’re not just another weakling. If you win five fights to the death, I will assign you a magical teacher.”

The girl took a step toward me, her stance tense. I swallowed hard, I was quite good at magical duels, but this was different. There was no magic ward to protect us here.

The girl raised her right hand, a flicker of red light gathering in her palm. She’s casting fire. I barely had a moment to react, diving to the side as a bolt of flame shot toward me, scorching the place where I’d been standing only a second ago. The fireball hit the wall, leaving a smoldering black mark.

Adrenaline surged through me. I gathered mana faster than ever before, shaping it into an ice spell. I thrust my own hand forward, conjuring a stream of icy shards that burst from my palm. The shards flew at her in a deadly arc. She twisted away, dodging most of them, but one grazed her cheek, leaving a thin trail of blood.

Straightforward attacks won’t work. I need to stop her movements.

I gathered mana from the ground, shaping it into swamp-spell. Before the girl could react, her lower body was trapped into the ground, rooting her in place.

She looked down in shock as the swamp spell solidified, turning the floor beneath her feet into a sticky mire. She struggled, to no avail, remaining stuck into the ground.

For a moment, a flicker of desperation crossed her face. But just as quickly, it turned to fury. She clenched her fists, and sent a ring of flames toward me.

This time, dodging was impossible. I quickly gathered ambient mana to shape it into an ice shield. The ring of flames crashed against it, sending sparks flying as fire met ice in a chaotic blaze. The heat seeped through the barrier, making me sweat, but I held my ground, focusing all my energy on reinforcing the ice wall.

I had to think fast. Seeing her distracted with breaking down my shield, I conjured my strongest ice spell to root her whole body in place. Unable to dodge, ice covered her body, making her look like an ice statue. I purposely didn’t cover her face to ensure she wouldn’t die from suffocation.

The girl looked at me with despair, “I… I give up… please don’t kill me!”

As soon as she muttered these words, the man supervising our fight sent a wind-cut spell toward her, cleanly severing her head off from the rest of her body.

Silence fell over the arena as her severed head hit the ground, her wide, terrified eyes still fixed on me. I stumbled back, horrified, barely able to process what had just happened. She had surrendered, pleaded for her life—yet the moment she uttered the words, the supervising magician had executed her without hesitation.

I felt the bile rising in my throat, and my legs buckled beneath me as I dropped to my knees.

I was transfixed by the surreal sight.

All I could see was a rolling head and headless body with a sickening spray of crimson gushing out. When the metallic scent of blood got into my nose, I vomited everything I ate on the ground.

The supervising magician watched me with a disgusted expression, as though my reaction was an inconvenience, a mark of weakness.

“Pathetic,” he muttered with contempt. “You’d better get used to this, or you won’t last long.”

I wanted to scream, to ask him why he killed her, but I could barely breathe. Instead, I sat there, my mind spinning.

This was real. He really killed her. She died just like that.

I looked up at him, bile still burning in my throat, and saw no remorse in his cold eyes.

This was too cruel. How could he kill someone who had already surrendered ? Was he even human?

He turned his head toward another man, “Eric, dispose of the failed experiment for me please.”

“Right away, boss.”

Eric, a tall man, strode forward with indifferent gait. He barely glanced at the girl’s lifeless form on the ground, as if handling corpses was as routine as filing paperwork. With a flick of his hand, he summoned a dark, swirling magic—a black shadow coiled around her body like a shroud.

Within seconds, her body began to dissolve, vanishing into thin air. The ground was left spotless, as if she had never existed at all.

I watched, horrified. Every trace of her –was gone. The floor was empty, erasing all evidence of what had just happened.

"Clean and efficient as always," the magician said approvingly, nodding to Eric.

Eric gave a small, respectful bow. "Of course, boss."

"Tell Maggie to inform number 361 parents about her unfortunate, accident."

Eric bowed and left. "Right away, sir."

The magician turned back to me. "Consider this your first lesson. If you want to survive, you need to become merciless toward your enemies. In a fight, a moment of hesitation will get you killed. He looked me up and down with a faint smirk, as if doubting I had what it took.

Number 361, failed experiment… They didn’t even see us as humans.

My hands clenched into fists as he spoke. But I forced myself to stand still, to swallow back my emotions. I couldn’t lash out at him, I needed to survive.

“For the next four days, you will have a fight to the death every day. Prepare yourself.”

The magician’s words struck me like a punch to the gut. Fight to the death… every day… My mouth went dry, and my pulse pounded in my ears. I might die for real this time.