I opened my eyes. Immediately I was grabbed from behind and yanked up to a standing position. There was no trace of ice in the cave anymore. The flat of a knife pressed against my neck, the hilt handled by Red Hair guy. His two friends were up too. They had not perished in the pond.

The moment their friend had passed to the next level all the frigid water had evaporated in an instant. But the players looked miserable. They were sweating like they were in an oven. We were in the hottest level.

The monsters stood only a few meters away. But they were hesitating; afraid the players would kill me. I thought quickly. The loyal monsters would attempt to save me. But the players were desperate, and the unbearable heat was making them restless.

Even if I asked the monsters to back out of the cave, I couldn’t picture any scenario where the players would simply let me go without killing me after they had used me as a shield to safely exit the cave. They weren't aware the flaring sun and the sand demons awaited them outside.

I realized at that moment that Red Hair Guy had his arm wrapped around me such that his sacrifice stone was in contact with the skin of my hand. Could I talk to the stone simply using my mind? To my surprise the sacrifice stone immediately messaged me.

Yes you can. As long as I am in contact with your body you can make any sacrifice and reap the rewards.

That was definitely helpful. But what could I sacrifice to get out of my present predicament?

“Make the players go out of this cave without hurting me,” I thought, “In return I will… I will sacrifice my ability to mentally communicate with my followers.”

That is too small a sacrifice for a reward too big. If you want to be saved, you can sacrifice your authority over the eviluns. Renounce your title of the evil king.

Dang. That would rob any chance I ever had of stopping the players. I felt wretched. But if I didn’t make the sacrifice, any moment now the player was going to slit my throat; the thin edge of his knife was already pricking my skin.

Stolen story; please report.

“Then I sacrifice it,” I thought, “Just save me.”

Your sacrifice has been accepted.

Instantly, I found myself alone. The three players were teleported to the mouth of the cave. The monsters were gaping, their wiry brows drawn together in puzzlement. They had no obligations to me anymore.

The trio disappeared into the daylight. The monsters too lumbered out, scratching their heads. I strode to the mouth of the cave. One of the advantages of dying and taking rebirth was that I no longer had the pains or the bad shoulder and waist from my last life.

Outside, the environment was hellish. The sky was a reddish hue. In the distance I could see the small green patch. The demons and the solar flares were wrecking havoc on the players. Bodies of players were strewn about the brown sand. The monsters that were in this level were mostly just sauntering about, not partaking in anything. Some of them were occasionally cheering the demons beating up the players.

A player had reached close to the green patch of land. Somehow he had managed to keep his distance from the demons, carrying an umbrella with him (acquired perhaps through a sacrifice) that seemed to be protecting him from the angry solar flares.

I sprang for the player as fast as I could. He had to be stopped. I was done losing one level after another. Thankfully, a demon halted the player, and engaged him in a sandy fight.

I reached the green patch moments after Mr. Umbrella was killed by the sand demon. Many sacrifice stones lay partially buried in the sand. I wished if I could sacrifice something to better protect the door. But there was nothing left with me worthy of sacrificing.

A barbarian stomped into the scene. He had a population of small itchy bumps all over his body, leaking green pus, aside from sunburns, thanks to the heat. His resolve however was as fat as his sword. One blow with that serrated piece of iron and I was done.

He glared murderously at me, withdrawing a health vial from a leather pouch. He drank it, and threw away the pouch. It was his last health vial.

He charged, swinging his weapon. I crouched to dodge him. He missed me, but his sword hit mine, shattering it to pieces. The impact threw me to the sand.

The barbarian approached me with a relaxed gait, a grin of malice on his face. So this was going to be my fate? Death in a game world?

The barbarian lifted his sword for the kill. I raised my hands to cover my face. All was lost.

A guttural grunt of pain.

I expected instant death. But nothing happened. No fat sword sent my skull flying in a home run.

The grunt turned into a nightmarish howl.

I removed my hands from over my face. A long sword had penetrated the barbarian from the back and come out his front stomach, exactly tearing through his navel, which spurted torrents, soaking the sand in red. The steel was withdrawn. The barbarian collapsed with the intensity of a felled redwood. Dead.