A wave of fear swept through the disciples as they witnessed the Mahavadha's violent display.

In the blink of an eye, a thousand disciples fled the trial.

The Mahavadha gestured to the six others on stage and, in a guttural, ancient language, commanded them to take their positions. They moved with precision, forming a seven-pointed star around the crowd.

In response to these preparations by the executioners, another thousand disciples fled. Scrambling in confusion, they quickly recited the mnemonic to open a portal to the safety of the church's entrance, unable to endure the Mahavadha. The air buzzed with tension as many disciples whispered among themselves.

Those who remained behind either had blind confidence in their ability to survive, doubted the Mahavadha's intentions—convinced his threat was merely a scare tactic—or were simply indecisive. Among them stood Ged, who didn't fit into any of these categories. In response to the Mahavadha's terrifying display, he closed his eyes, retreating inward as panic erupted around him.

As Ged's mind withdrew, the familiar image of a serene grassy hill emerged. He focused on it, and when he opened his eyes, the world around him had changed. The room no longer felt hostile. The frantic screams of the fleeing disciples had become muted. A calm, steady breeze brushed past him, and the scent of fresh grass filled his lungs. His vision took on a soft green hue, as though the world around him had merged with the peaceful hill in his mind. Fear melted away, replaced by a deep sense of peace. A casual smile curved his lips as he stood still, oblivious to the chaos around him and unconcerned about the dangerous trial ahead.

Nearby, Pim and Polka stood in a state of panic. Fear weighed heavily on them as they watched the chaos grow. They exchanged anxious glances, torn between following the crowd or staying. Just as they were about to leave, their eyes caught sight of Ged. He stood alone, calm and relaxed amidst the turmoil, smiling as though none of it mattered. He even gave them a reassuring thumbs-up, his face serene.

Something about Ged's calmness changed their minds. Seeing him so at peace gave them a sliver of courage. Pim and Polka's fears began to dissolve, and they decided to stay. Silently, they thanked Ged, whose peaceful demeanor had given them the strength to face whatever came next.

The room gradually stilled as the last few fleeing disciples exitted the trial. Noticing the reduction in those escaping, the Mahavadha resumed speaking.

"To those who remain, I am pleased to see your unyielding courage and bravery," his voice carried effortlessly, as though whispering directly into the ears of everyone present.

"I pray for each of you to have a smooth transition into the next phase of your lives."

Finishing his words, he knelt, tightly grasping the ritual beads wrapped around his wrist, and closed his eyes in prayer.

The room fell into a whispering silence. No one dared make a sound. Though the Mahavadha's prayer lasted only a minute, to the disciples it felt like an eternity as they anxiously awaited what would come next.

Rising slowly from the floor, the Mahavadha clapped his hands sharply, the sound reverberating through the room. The escape mnemonic vanished from the remaining disciples' minds—there was nowhere left to run.

Instantly, an overwhelming force surged through the air, pulling the disciples to their knees. Though they strained against it, their heads were held down by an invisible power, leaving them largely immobile. With great effort, they could only manage brief glimpses of their surroundings.

The Mahavadha's expression hardened as he opened his eyes with solemn intensity. With a simple gesture, he signaled the six executioners to unsheathe their swords.

"Begin the slaughter!"

With a thunderous roar, the Mahavadha lunged into the crowd, sword in hand, slicing through the disciples, severing two heads with each flick of his wrist.

The six executioners followed swiftly, cutting down disciples with ruthless precision, leaving a trail of destruction in their wake.

A terrifying uneasiness could be felt throughout the room, as the sounds of slaughter traveled throughout. Unable to see their executioners coming, an intense feeling of helplessness washed over them, their possible death coming at any moment.

The once confident and fearless disciples were now in a frenzy, many begging for mercy as they regretted their decision to stay.

But it was too late. The executioners were deaf to their pleas, and their desperate words did nothing to stop the blades from sealing their fate.

Ten minutes passed.

One thousand bodies lay on the floor. The cries of emotional disciples only grew louder as more of their neighbors met their untimely end.

Ged was quietly observing the brutal atmosphere around him.

Nearby, one of the six executioners hopped from disciple to disciple, his feet so light he seemed to hover above the ground. Each time he landed, he struck swiftly with his sword, moving without wasted effort as he navigated the sprawl of disciples.

As the executioner drew closer, Ged could feel the wind stir as the figure hovered overhead. With bated breath, he watched the executioner land right in front of one of his neighbors.

He witnessed everything: he saw his neighbor as a wreck, crying and begging for mercy, but he received none. As soon as he landed, he had already moved onto the next, his sword so fast it appeared motionless in his hands.

What remained was the boy's lifeless head rolling along on the golden floor of the church.

It was all too cruel.

Seeing the horrifying sight, the calming effects of the green grassy hill could no longer keep Ged afloat. Terrified by the sights and smells around him, he withdrew further into his mind, calling for the hill to appear more vividly. Its calming influence intensified, further transforming the room around him.

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However, using the green grassy hill so recklessly had consequences.

Like light reflecting off water, the hill mirrored Ged's negative emotions, projecting them onto its surface and returning calm to him. But just as not all light reflects perfectly off water, not all of his negative emotions returned as calm. Some sank beneath the surface, illuminating deeper, darker places where light rarely reaches.

Normally, this illumination was faint, like a small flashlight in the ocean, causing little disturbance. But as the trial intensified, Ged drew more calm from the hill, brightening the light and pushing it deeper into the waters below. The farther this light reached, the greater the risk of attracting attention, for in these dangerous depths, no harmless creatures dwelled—only one ancient, unfathomable entity lurked.

If Ged continued to keep this beacon alight, it would only lead to certain disaster.

Thirty minutes had now gone by in the trial.

The Mahavadha moved through the disciples, his form shifting strangely, like a phantom, flickering in and out of sight as he walked. His ghost-like movements were reminiscent of a surging river; anyone standing near him could feel the rising tide of his presence, as though it were traveling up their ankles.

His movements were fluid, like water navigating a maze. Each time he appeared, his presence spread out like water released from a dam, flowing in all directions with impeccable force. It was impossible to pinpoint where he truly was—only the grisly aftermath of headless disciples marked where he had been.

With this eerie pattern of movement, the Mahavadha worked at twice the speed of the other executioners, soundlessly wandering the room, slaughtering whomever he pleased.

Much time had passed since the last executioner swept through Ged's area, granting him and those around him a brief, fragile respite. But that momentary calm soon shattered.

The sensation of water spread across the floor. Ged felt its cool touch creeping up his hands and feet, and despite the calming effects of the green grassy hill, a cold shiver ran down his spine.

This was now the third time the Mahavadha had passed through this area, and Ged knew too well what the water-like sensation signified.

The water rose higher, until it completely submerged his body. Ged instinctively held his breath, dread tightening in his chest as he waited to see who the Mahavadha might claim next.

Fifty meters away, the Mahavadha reappeared, and with him, the water slowly retreated until it vanished entirely. Ged gasped for air, relief washing over him as he realized he had survived yet again.

He quickly assessed those closest to him. To his right, the bald boy, who had once carried himself with arrogant pride, now sat trembling, his bravado long gone. Seeing the boy was still alive, Ged felt an odd pang of disappointment.

Remarkably, the Mahavadha had left all around him in his immediate area untouched.

Fighting against the unseen force that kept him pressed to the floor, Ged slowly lifted his head, his eyes scanning the crowd for his friends. He spotted Pim first, his large frame easily recognizable among the other disciples. Relief washed over Ged seeing that Pim was unharmed, but that relief turned to dread when he noticed the tears streaming down Pim's face, his expression twisted in shock and grief.

Ged's heart sank.

Following Pim's gaze, Ged's eyes fell upon a devastating sight.

Polka lay lifeless on the ground, her body limp. The oversized green bracelet Ged had given her had slipped off her wrist and now lay abandoned on the golden floor.

Closing his eyes, Ged struggled to hold back his tears. Desperate to control the storm of emotions brewing inside him, he retreated further into his mind, casting his line deeper into the waters below. The calming effect of the green grassy hill intensified dramatically, battling his sorrow and distress.

But this sorrow was difficult to overcome. The image of Polka's lifeless body weighed heavily on his heart, and her once-smiling face was hard to forget. Ged did not want to face any of it—the trial, or the loss of his newfound friend. All his life, he had been calm and steady, never allowed to feel sadness.

In the past, when his family dog, Loma, was run over by a reckless carriage driver, Ged gazed at Loma's lifeless body, filled with deep, painful sorrow. Yet not a single sound escaped his throat. For an entire day, he stared at the corpse of his lifelong friend, feeling tears well up in his eyes and a burning sensation in his throat. He wanted to scream, he wanted to cry, but the green grassy hill kept him silent. Frustrated by his inability to express his emotions, he fought against the hill's calming influence, but its grip was too strong. It always won, placating his disturbed mental state back to neutral. After some time, his parents discovered what had happened and quickly buried Loma in the backyard, shielding him from the finality of the event.

As these moments of emotional repression piled up, Ged stopped resisting the green grassy hill's control over his emotions and eventually came to fully embrace it.

It was like the story of a boy born with healthy legs, who had been using crutches for as long as he could remember. At first, he relied mostly on his legs, using the crutches only sparingly. But over time, the crutches became more necessary, and he leaned on them more and more. Gradually, his legs weakened, until the crutches were the only way he could walk, and he could no longer move without them.

This was Ged's life.

In the beginning, the green grassy hill appeared only in moments when he was at his most unstable. But after sixteen years, his reliance on the hill increased, and even small fluctuations in his mental state sent him retreating to its refuge.

Like the boy who had become dependent on crutches, Ged could no longer live his life without being completely calm.

Ged withdrew to the deepest part of his mind, projecting all his unwanted emotions onto the surface of the green grassy hill.

Ged withdrew into the deepest part of his mind, projecting his unwanted emotions onto the surface of the green grassy hill. As he cast his fears into the hill, it began to glow softly, like the sun's reflection off still water. The hill, like a mirror, reflected his emotions back to him, transforming them into calmness, gradually bringing him to a neutral state.

The glow intensified, growing brighter, as though Ged's emotions were rippling across the hill's surface. It shone like a sun now, piercing the surrounding waters and illuminating the depths. As the light reached further into the abyss, it eventually touched the ancient being lurking below.

Bathed in the hill's glowing green light, the creature's massive, unfathomable body stretched beneath the blue waters, its true form impossible to comprehend. Drawn irresistibly toward the strange glow now reflecting off its skin, it moved closer, mistaking the light for prey.

Thinking it had found an easy meal, the creature opened its maw, extending a thin, sinewy blue tongue to taste what it was about to consume.

But the green grassy hill was a strange and powerful entity. Aside from Ged, none could easily breach its walls. Inside, a defense mechanism lay in wait, ready to eliminate intruders. As soon as the creature's tongue pierced the surface and entered the hill, it was severed by a flashing green sword of light.

Recoiling in agony, the creature let out a guttural, echoing wail, its body convulsing as it twisted away from the hill. It thrashed violently, black outlines of strange shapes and symbols ejecting from its wound as it retreated into the depths, unwilling to challenge the green grassy hill any further.

In a far corner of the green grassy hill, the severed tongue wiggled frantically. Though cut off from its main body, it still retained some life. Its enormous blue form sizzled and burned under the hill's defensive effects. Dark blue smoke billowed from its scorched skin, spreading a foul essence across the land and corrupting its surroundings. The once vibrant grass withered as the hill's defenses began to weaken.

Unbeknownst to Ged, a battle had broken out between the invading tongue and the green grassy hill.

"Goodbye, Polka," he whispered softly.

Among the violent slaughter, Ged sat detached, his demeanor peaceful and serene. As the disciples begged for mercy and were decapitated, Ged smiled and stared blankly, as if the horrors around him didn't exist at all.