As the flames hungrily consumed the room, Cedric's situation grew increasingly dire. The heavy, smoke-filled air made it difficult to breathe, and visibility was reduced to a mere few feet. His lungs burned with each inhalation of the hot, soot-laden air, and his eyes watered painfully. The room felt like it was closing in on him, the heat intensifying as the fire spread unchecked.
The room filled with choking smoke and the heat from the flames intensified, Cedric knew he had to act fast. He rushed to the door he had entered through, throwing his body against it in a desperate attempt to force it open. Despite his strength and determination, the door remained stubbornly in place, unyielding. The thick, heavy wood, designed to be both ornate and secure, proved too robust for one person to break through alone.
Cedric closed his eyes, focusing intently, channeling every ounce of his energy and willpower into activating his ability. He envisioned the space outside the room, the cool, smoke-free corridor that represented safety. With a forceful mental push, he attempted to initiate the teleportation.
But the expected sensation of space warping around him, the familiar feel of molecules rearranging to transport him to safety, did not occur. Instead, there was a jarring absence of movement, a stark nothingness. His powers, inexplicably and frustratingly, failed to respond.
Realizing that he can not rely on his supernatural power, Cedric scanned the room for any other possible exits. His eyes, watering from the smoke, searched through the thickening haze for a window, a secondary door, anything that might offer a route to safety. But the room offered no respite; it was designed as a sealed chamber, with thick walls and only one way in or out—the door he had entered through, now a barrier between him and survival.
The fire continued to ravage the room, it consumed everything in its path. Furniture crackled and split, and the structure itself began to groan under the stress of the intense heat. Cedric eyed the door he had entered through; despite the chaos around him, it remained dauntingly intact. He knew that waiting for the door to weaken from the fire was not an option. The thick smoke was already making it difficult to breathe, and he realized that he would likely succumb to suffocation long before the door's integrity was compromised enough to break through.
Seeing no other way out, Cedric quickly scanned the smoky room for anything else that might aid his escape. His gaze fell on two half-empty bottles of alcohol—the same bottles that had been used to douse the room and accelerate the fire. At first, the idea of using the alcohol to create an explosive force crossed his mind, hoping to blow the door open. He frantically searched the room for additional materials that could help him rig a larger, controlled explosion. However, apart from the alcohol, the room offered nothing but charred furniture and thickening smoke, leaving him with no components to execute such a plan.
With time running critically short and his options narrowing, Cedric's thoughts raced through other potential escape methods, each dismissed as quickly as they came due to lack of resources or time. Finally, driven by desperation, he settled on his last resort—to use the fire itself as his tool. The plan was to weaken the door’s structure by concentrating the fire at its weakest points, enabling him to break through. Knowing the inherent risks of this approach, including the possibility of exacerbating the fire, Cedric understood that this was his only feasible chance at survival.
Cedric swiftly cut a large strip from his cloak, preparing to turn the bottles into makeshift Molotov cocktails. He stuffed the torn fabric into the mouths of the bottles, ensuring a good portion hung out like a wick to catch the flames effectively. As he prepared the bottles, he noticed the strings from the disabled contraption lying discarded on the floor. Quickly seizing upon this additional resource, he grabbed the strings and used them to bind the alcohol bottles tightly together. This setup would not only stabilize the bottles but also a focus point of the fire, ensuring that the fire would be directed precisely at the door’s weakest structural points when the bottles shattered.
The smoke was becoming thicker, a deadly shroud that threatened to choke him. He coughed violently, his throat raw as he positioned the furniture—a heavy chair and a small table—to create a makeshift shield.
Cedric quickly dipped the fabric wicks of the bottles into the flames already licking up the walls nearby. The wicks caught fire instantly, the hungry flames beginning to consume the alcohol inside. With no time to waste, Cedric placed the fiery bottles strategically at the base of the door, where the fire could weaken the wood and metal most effectively.
As the bottles began to heat up dangerously, Cedric retreated behind his makeshift barricade, shielding himself as best as he could.
Seconds felt like hours as the bottles heated up and finally shattered with a loud pop, sending a violent wave of flames crashing against the door. The intense heat was palpable even from behind his cover, and Cedric could hear the wood beginning to crack and warp from the force of the fire.
Using the last of his strength and driven by a surge of adrenaline, Cedric waited for the flames to do their work. Once he felt the door weaken, he braced himself against the solid floor, pushed off with his legs, and charged at the door. His shoulder slammed into the wood with the full force of his body weight behind it. The weakened door gave way with a groan, its charred remains crumbling as Cedric burst through into the relatively cooler corridor outside.
Gasping for clean air, Cedric stumbled into the hallway, his body covered in soot and sweat. Exhausted and burned, Cedric limped his way to the balcony to seek relief from the stifling smoke and heat. His body ached from the intense effort of escaping the fiery room, and every step was a battle against the pain that throbbed through his limbs. As he reached the balcony, he leaned heavily against the railing, the cool night air a balm to his scorched lungs. He coughed violently, expelling the remnants of smoke that clung to his breath.
Below, the front yard was a tableau of chaos, illuminated by the flickering flames that licked the upper stories of the palace.
In the midst of his heavy breathing, Cedric barely registered the approach of another figure on the balcony. Suddenly, he felt a forceful shove against his back. Instinctively, he swung his elbow back, striking his unseen assailant. The impact threw both men off balance, and they stumbled backward, grappling as they fell onto the balcony floor
As both men scrambled to regain their footing, the assailant was quicker. He rose to his full height and swung his sword at Cedric, who was still struggling on the ground. Cedric, with a burst of adrenaline, managed to draw his own sword just in time to block the attack. The clash of their blades rang out sharply in the night air.
Pinned on his back, Cedric managed to deflect the continuous onslaught of swings from the man. Each block was harder than the last as he tried to crawl backward, seeking a position that would allow him to stand. The man's frustration was palpable in his aggressive attacks and heavy breaths.
"Why won't you just die already!" the man yelled, his voice echoing with rage as he intensified his strikes, each one aimed with lethal intent. Cedric, drawing on every reserve of strength, kept his blade up, parrying each blow while looking for an opening to turn the tide of this desperate fight.
Amid the chaos and the crashing of swords, Cedric spotted a fleeting chance to regain his footing. As his assailant yelled in frustration, Cedric delivered a swift kick, pushing the man back. The move gave him just enough space to scramble to his feet, though he remained unsteady, gasping for air.
"You're Damian, right?" Cedric asked, his voice hoarse from the smoke and exertion. "Why are you doing this?" He managed to get the words out between coughs, watching Damian carefully for any sudden moves.
Damian's response with a cold voice. "You wouldn't understand!" he shouted, his hand slipping into his pocket in a swift, practiced motion.
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[SYSTEM]: Card activated.
[SYSTEM]: Using : Chef's knife.
[SYSTEM]: Common tier item detected.
[SYSTEM]: Chef's knife : A sharp knife designed for cutting meat to perfect bite-sized pieces.
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Without warning, Damian flung a knife towards Cedric. With reflexes honed by countless battles, Cedric deflected the knife with a flick of his sword. However, the throw was merely a distraction—a precursor to Damian's real attack. As the knife clattered harmlessly to the side, Damian charged, his sword raised for a decisive strike.
The sound of their swords clashing rang out, metallic and sharp, slicing through the night air. Cedric countered Damian's ferocious attacks with equal vigor, their blades meeting in a flurry of sparks and steel.
As the clash of steel continued, Cedric, weary and weakened from his ordeal with the fire, began to falter under Damian's relentless assault. With a forceful swing, their swords locked together, metal grinding against metal in a tense standoff.
Gasping for breath, Cedric seized the moment to press for answers, his voice hoarse from the smoke and exertion. "What do you gain from this? Why are you trying to kill your own sister?" he demanded, struggling to maintain his grip on his sword.
Damian's eyes flashed with anger as he sneered, "I have no such sister!" With a powerful shove, he pushed Cedric backwards. Cedric stumbled from the balcony back into the hall, barely catching himself before falling.
Without pause, Damian reached into his pocket again.
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[SYSTEM]: Card activated.
[SYSTEM]: Using: Flour bag.
[SYSTEM]: Common tier item detected.
[SYSTEM]: Flour bag: A bag full of flour, typically used in baking or can be thrown to temporarily blind someone.
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With a swift motion, Damian hurled the bag of flour at Cedric. The bag burst upon impact, enveloping Cedric in a cloud of white powder, momentarily blinding him. Seizing the advantage, Damian delivered a sharp kick that sent Cedric reeling backward.
Cedric stumbled into the banquet hall's catwalk, his back slamming against the railing. He clutched at his eyes, trying to clear the stinging flour.
Damian advanced towards Cedric, sword poised to strike, silhouetted against the backdrop of the burning room from which Cedric had narrowly escaped. His expression was one of determined malice, his movements calculated and deadly.
Cedric, having wiped the flour from his eyes, spotted the downward arc of Damian's blade at the last second. With a swift side-step, he dodged the lethal swing, the sword slicing through the air where he had just been. Quickly adapting to the environment, Cedric kicked a nearby chair towards Damian, using the furniture as an impromptu weapon.
However, Damian was quick to react. He blocked the chair with his sword, then, with a fluid motion, reached into his pocket again. Anticipating another unconventional attack, Cedric leaped to the side, trying to predict Damian's next move.
This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
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[SYSTEM]: Card activated.
[SYSTEM]: Using: Black Powder Keg.
[SYSTEM]: Epic tier item detected.
[SYSTEM]: Black Powder Keg: A keg full of gunpowder that can be used as a trap, counts as explosion kill instead of accident kill.
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Damian hurled a small, seemingly innocuous object towards Cedric, realizing the imminent danger, quickly looked around for anything that could serve as a shield against the blast. His only option was a decorative curtain pulled back from one of the nearby windows. He ripped it down and wrapped it around himself just as the keg exploded.
The force of the blast was monumental, the deafening boom echoing through the banquet hall. While the curtain couldn't stop the shockwave, it managed to catch some of the shrapnel and fiery debris, offering Cedric slight protection from the worst of the explosion.
But the blast sent Cedric flying back, his body slamming against the banquet hall's catwalk railing with brutal force. The shock of the impact reverberated through his bones as he struggled to regain his composure and to maintain his balance on the weakened structure of the catwalk. His ears rang, and his vision blurred as he tried to orient himself amidst the chaos.
Damian, seizing the moment of Cedric's disorientation, advanced menacingly. Cedric, gasping for breath and battling the pain that coursed through his body, barely noticed Damian's approach until it was almost too late. As Damian raised his sword for a decisive strike, Cedric, driven by survival instinct, made a desperate move.
With his remaining strength, Cedric lunged to the side, dodging Damian's lethal swing. The momentum, however, proved too much for his battered body and the damaged railing of the catwalk. With a loud crack, the railing gave way under Cedric's weight. His eyes widened in alarm as he felt the ground disappear beneath him.
Cedric's body tumbled through the air, crashing down onto the banquet hall's main floor below. He landed with a heavy grunt, pain exploding through every nerve as the impact jolted his entire frame. Groaning, Cedric tried to gather his senses, his body sprawled amidst the debris of the broken catwalk and the lingering smoke from the explosion.
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[SYSTEM]: Card activated.
[SYSTEM]: Using: Rope.
[SYSTEM]: Rare tier item detected.
[SYSTEM]: Rope: Useful in most situations to tie something, or someone.
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Damian gracefully descended from the third floor, utilizing a rope that he had secured to a sturdy fixture above. He landed with a soft thud, just a few feet away from where Cedric lay crumpled on the ground. Without a moment's hesitation, Damian strode towards Cedric, his expression twisted with fury and pain.
Damian's boot came crashing down on him. With each savage stomp, Damian vented his rage and frustration, his voice crescendoing with emotion. "Do you have any idea what it feels like to exist just for the sake of being an obstacle for others? Do you think being just a piece of the game feels good?" Each word punctuated by another punishing blow.
Cedric coughed up blood as Damian's words sank in, his mind trying to piece together the cryptic message. Gasping, he managed to articulate his confusion. "What are you talking about" His voice was hoarse, strained from pain and the effort to speak.
Damian paused his assault, though his boot remained firmly pressed against Cedric's head, pinning him to the ground with a chilling calmness. "It started with that pendulum clock" he began, his eyes distant as if recalling a pivotal moment in his life. "I was admiring it, even touching it, fascinated by its intricacies. Right then, Isaac subdued me, and when I woke up, everything had reset. Again and again”
Damian's gaze to Cedric "During one of those resets, I touched the clock again, But this time, I saw glimpses of the real world—the world beyond this game.I saw Emily, surrounded by a family that loves her, living a life full of love and care, a life I’ve never known. That's when I understood. I'm not meant to just be part of the background here; I'm meant for more."
He shifted his weight, pressing down harder, a cruel reminder of his control. "So I watched Isaac. I studied every move he made, every tactic, through countless resets."
His voice grew bitter with each word, "Then, with the clock I was able to access the glitch in the system. Just by exploiting it, I was able to bring a girl into this world, a girl named Emily." Damian's gaze hardened, his eyes reflecting a mix of hatred and determination. "Once I eliminate Emily, I'll finally be free. I'll escape this place, and I'll do whatever I want, out there, in the real world."
While Damian expounded on his twisted revelations, the banquet hall entrance door swung wide open. Emily, Thaddeus, and a contingent of guards hurried in, their intent to search for Cedric on the third floor interrupted by the grim scene before them on the first floor.
The sight of Cedric, bloodied and pinned under Damian's boot, drew a sharp gasp from Emily. Her voice, filled with shock and fear, cut through the tension of the room. "Cedric!" she screamed, her concern echoing off the grand walls of the banquet hall.
Damian turned slowly, his face contorting into a sinister smile as his eyes locked onto Emily. His voice, icy and filled with venom, carried a twisted satisfaction. "Ah, if it isn't the beloved child, wearing the body of the woman everyone adores—a perfect puppet placed in the center of attention" he sneered, his tone dripping with spite.
Delilah's voice, though it was Emily's lips that moved, echoed across the tense atmosphere of the banquet hall. "Why are you doing this, Damian?" she implored, her tone a mixture of confusion and sorrow.
Damian's face twisted into a sneer as he turned toward the sound of his sister's voice, his anger palpable. "You should know better than anyone, 'Delilah.' Or is it just Emily asking, huh?" he spat disdainfully. "It doesn't matter. Once I'm done with Emily, I'll finally be free."
As Damian spoke, Cedric made a weak attempt to reach for his sword, sprawled on the ground nearby. But Damian was quick to notice, brutally stomping down on Cedric's hand to halt his efforts. "No, you don't" he growled, his eyes flashing with cruelty.
Emily, her voice steady despite the chaos, challenged him. "What makes you think that killing me will grant you freedom?" she asked, seeking to understand his twisted logic.
Damian's expression darkened as he began to ramble, his words laced with years of pent-up resentment. "The system... I saw it glitch! I saw your world, Emily. A world where you are loved, not just seen as a burden or a tool. I've always wanted that—to be part of a family that actually cares, not the Fernways who viewed me as nothing more than an object"
Delilah's spirit, channeling through Emily, responded with heartache in her voice. "Damian, I'm so sorry... I never meant for you to feel that way. I should have been there for you" she pleaded, her regret genuine as she tried to reach out to her brother's dwindling humanity.
Damian's voice rose, filled with a volatile mix of scorn and bitterness. "Don't act like you care now, Delilah!" he yelled, his tone piercing the murmur of the gathered crowd. "If you really cared, you would’ve noticed that I was working right under your nose—how funny is that? The son of a duke reduced to laboring in another duke's palace!"
Delilah, her voice trembling with emotion through Emily, tried once more to breach the walls of resentment that Damian had built around himself. "I'm so sorry, Damian" she pleaded earnestly, her words heavy with regret. "We can fix this, we can fix everything. Together, we can make things right. Please, let's end this madness."
Delilah's voice softened, laden with the weight of unshared burdens, as she spoke through Emily. "Damian, I was under so much pressure as the heir. I had to meet expectations that were set long before I even understood them" she explained, her words flowing with a mix of sincerity and desperation. "It's not your fault, Damian. We were both caught in the same trap set by our family's legacy."
Damian's expression twisted with conflict, his eyes flickering with a mix of anger and confusion. "Stop lying to me!" he shouted back, the accusation sharp and pained. "You had everything! You were the cherished one, the heir! What did I have?"
Despite the tension, Delilah, through Emily, took a cautious step closer to Damian, her posture open and non-threatening. "I'm sorry that I didn’t see your pain, Damian. But I see it now" she said gently, reaching out as if she could bridge the physical and emotional distance between them with her empathy alone. "Let me help you. You are not alone anymore."
Damian's voice cracked under the weight of his conflicting emotions, his resistance faltering as tears began to well in his eyes. "No, no, no, you're lying, Delilah! I know you are!" he cried out, his desperation palpable. Despite his anger and resentment, the pain of his perceived betrayal bled through, revealing his deep-seated vulnerability.
With a trembling hand, Damian reached into his pocket and threw a card onto the floor, his actions almost mechanical in his distress.
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[SYSTEM]: Card activated.
[SYSTEM]: Using: Limbo.
[SYSTEM]: Iconic tier item detected.
[SYSTEM]: Limbo: Do you have trust issues? Give up your life to learn their true personality and reveal their hidden side!
[SYSTEM]: Iconic tier condition: ḃ̷e̶̍c̶̒ö̴̉m̵̕͘ȅ̴̇ ̶̏͠o̵̍n̸͑è̵͝.
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As the card's effects began to manifest, Emily suddenly felt a strange sensation wash over her, as if she were being pulled away from the controls of Delilah's body. Her grip on reality weakened, but instead of exposing her darkest secrets, something unexpected occurred.
Delilah's spirit, which had been a passenger in her own body, seized control. It was her body, after all, and the card's magic allowed her to manifest the body fully.
Delilah, now in full control, steadied herself and looked directly at Damian with eyes filled with compassion and understanding. "Damian, look at me. I am here, really here" she said, her voice clearer and more present than it had been in a long time. "I'm not lying to you. We are family, and I want to help you, to understand you, not as a duke or a duchess, but as your sister.”
Delilah slowly approached Damian, who knelt in despair, his mind a turmoil of denial and self-deception. He murmured incoherently to himself, "It's not true... she's lying... it can't be..." His voice trailed off into sobs as he grappled with the conflicting emotions tearing at his soul.
With each step closer, Delilah's presence became more reassuring, her spirit fully inhabiting her own body now, lending her the strength to face her troubled brother. Gently, she reached out and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, pulling him into an embrace. "Everything will be alright now, Damian. I'm here for you" she whispered, her voice a soothing balm meant to heal the years of isolation and misunderstanding between them.
Damian's resistance crumbled under her touch, and he broke down completely, his body shaking with sobs as he leaned into her embrace. Tears streamed down his face as he finally allowed himself to be vulnerable, to be comforted by the sister he thought he had lost to the machinations of their cruel world.
The guards and Thaddeus, observing the tender moment, began to carefully pull Cedric away, giving the siblings the space to reconcile. With a feeble gesture, his arm trembling, Cedric pointed towards the grand pendulum clock standing ominously at the end of the hall. "The clock... it’s the key" he gasped weakly, his voice barely a whisper as he was heavily injured from the fight.
It seemed that peace might finally restore the fractured dynamics of the Fernway family.
However, the hopeful atmosphere shattered abruptly. Damian's sobs ceased as if cut by a switch, and his body stiffened. His voice, when he spoke next, was cold and distorted, a chilling glitch marring his tone. "No, n̸o̸t̵h̴i̸n̴g̸ w̸̬̲̩͉͓̤i̡̭̳̳̩̯̱l̬̲̬͜l̵̙̲ be alright, not n̵o̵w̵ or ever" he said, his gaze locking with Delilah's in a hauntingly empty stare.
Before anyone could react, Damian's hand moved with a terrifying decisiveness. He pulled a hidden knife and drove it into Delilah's side. The sharp blade glinted ominously as it pierced her, the betrayal magnified by the intimacy of their embrace.
"DELILAH!" Thaddeus, who had been helping to support Cedric, reacted instantly, dropping Cedric down and surged forward with a roar of outrage. His hand went to his sword as he closed the distance between himself and Damian, driven by a fierce determination to protect Delilah and end the madness that had taken hold of her brother.
The guards, quickly rallying alongside Thaddeus, engaged Damian in a fraught battle. Despite their superior numbers, Damian's frenetic desperation and unpredictable movements made him a formidable opponent. Each strike and parry from him was fraught with a chaotic energy that seemed to be fueled by more than just physical prowess.
On the sidelines, Cedric, his body marred by wounds and exhaustion, dragged himself across the floor towards Delilah. His voice barely a raspy whisper as he reached her side. "Delilah...the clock, it's Emily's only way out" he managed to say, his breaths short and pained, urging her towards the pendulum clock with a desperate intensity.
Delilah, though wounded, nodded with a grim determination. She staggered toward the ornate clock, the pain from Damian’s betrayal sharp in her side. As she moved, Emily's voice resonated in her mind, tinged with panic, "What are you doing!" To which Delilah responded softly, yet firmly, "The right thing...This is my fault, I have to take responsibility."
Approaching the clock, Delilah's hands trembled as she reached out, touching the intricate carvings that framed its face.
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[SYSTEM]: Do you wish to exit the mission?
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Delilah, unaware of the system's prompt silently hanging in the air, continued her actions undeterred. However, Emily, seeing the message, shouted with urgency, "Stop, Delilah! Don’t do it—I can still fix this. We can help each other!"
Despite Emily's pleas, Delilah, driven by a mixture of guilt and resolve, whispered a faint but resolute "Yes."
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[SYSTEM]: Mission ended.
[SYSTEM]: Calculating...
[SYSTEM]: Calculating...
[SYSTEM]: Calculating...
[SYSTEM]: Mission Failed.
[SYSTEM]: Condition requirement not met : All key figures alive (Failed).
[SYSTEM]: Missing condition : Isaac Morrowby.
[SYSTEM]: Automatic restart in 10 seconds.
[SYSTEM]: Restarting…
[SYSTEM]: Restarting…
[SYSTEM]: Restarting…
[SYSTEM]: Starting 7th attempt.
[SYSTEM]: You now have 1 attempt left.
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As the world around her reset, Emily found herself thrust back to the start of the banquet. However, the scene she returned to was far from the usual festive beginning. Chaos erupted instantly around her. Screams filled the grand banquet hall, a sharp contrast to the celebratory cheers that usually marked the event's commencement.
Guests scattered in every direction, their expressions twisted in confusion and fear. The source of their panic was immediately apparent: a man lay in the center of the dance floor, his condition grave. It was Cedric, and shockingly, his injuries had carried over through the reset attempt.
Emily, now back in full control but overwhelmed by the sudden shift, rushed to Cedric's side. His breathing was labored, and blood stained the ornate tiles beneath him. The guests' panicked voices echoed around them, some calling for help, others demanding to know what had happened.
As Emily kneeled beside him, she could see the severity of his wounds—this was not how the reset was supposed to happen. Resets were clean, erasing all traces of prior misfortunes, but here Cedric lay, a stark reminder that the regular logic of time doesn't apply to him.