"These warriors..." Damien muttered, a chill of realization sliding down his spine. "They're alive, yet their eyes..."
"They're mind-controlled," Lyrisa explained quietly, her voice tight but composed, drawing her scimitars with practiced ease. The weapons gleamed sharply, whispering gently as they cut through the air.
"Everyone who fails the trial becomes part of it. This ensures an endless supply of warriors for the inheritance site."
Damien narrowed his eyes slightly, fists clenching and unclenching as he studied the warriors stepping forward mechanically. "How many have fallen here, then? Over all these years..."
Lyrisa shrugged lightly, though her voice carried an undertone of seriousness. "More than we could count. That's why failure isn't an option."
The gate clanged shut, and five warriors stepped forward, forming a disciplined, menacing line. Their movements synchronized with eerie perfection, their armor clanking softly as they shifted position.
