Grace nearly stumbled forward when she saw Elior drenched in blood, but Tom stretched out his arm, stopping her in place. His eyes, sharper than steel, never left the center of the arena.
"Stay with Vera," Tom said firmly, low but heavy. "If you go now, you'll just get hurt."
Grace's lips trembled, but she nodded. Vera's hand rested lightly on her shoulder, steadying her.
Tom stepped down into the arena, his boots pressing into the cracked floor. He didn't raise his daggers, not yet. His voice carried through the silence, calm but edged with unease.
"Elior… what happened?"
Elior's chest rose and fell as though he had been running for hours. His good hand trembled slightly, not from weakness but from pressure boiling within. His eyes didn't leave Azmaik, who was still standing a few steps back, his glaive dripping shadow.
"Later," Elior answered, his voice flat, almost hollow.
Sassy was half-collapsed against the wall, blood trailing down her green dress.
Vincent lay writhing on the ground, sword fallen, chest stained dark where his own blade had betrayed him. The crowd was silent, terror sealing their lips.
Elior finally lifted his head, and when he did, his gaze locked onto Azmaik.
That look alone was enough to make even Azmaik take a step back. There was no hesitation in it, no conflict, only a pure, raw intention.
Elior raised his hand.
The sand at his feet stirred. At first, it swirled harmlessly, then rose higher, whirling like a storm given flesh. In an instant, it surged toward Azmaik, wrapping around him in jagged torrents. He snarled, trying to cut through with his glaive, but the sand swallowed it whole.
Then it forced itself inside him.
Grains poured into his eyes, grinding against the orbs until blood streamed out. They shoved into his ears, filling every canal with suffocating grit.
His mouth opened to scream, but sand flooded down his throat, choking the sound into muffled gargles.
Azmaik thrashed, glaive swinging wildly, but Elior clenched his fingers tighter.
The current grew harsher, entering his nostrils, his veins, every opening of his body. His skin bulged unnaturally as the storm invaded him from within.
Crack.Crack.CRACK!
His body split apart, first at the seams of his mouth, then across his chest. Blood sprayed as sand burst outward from inside him, shredding muscle and bone.
A final muffled scream ripped through the arena before his entire frame ruptured, exploding in a rain of crimson and grains.
The crowd shrieked in horror. Sassy's eyes widened, trembling in disbelief. Vincent coughed, spitting blood, unable to look away.
Tom stopped walking, his eyes carried a fear. Grace's hands clutched her chest tighter, tears finally slipping free.
Elior's steps were heavy, dragging through blood and broken sand as he walked toward the corner where Sassy and Vincent lay half-conscious.
His broken arm hung limp, his other hand still faintly trembling.
Tom quickly followed, worried, watching Elior's stiff movements. To Sassy and Vincent, it looked like the end.... his figure in the shadows, the sharp calmness on his face. They struggled to move, fear flooding their expressions.
"He's… he's coming to finish us," Sassy whispered hoarsely, pulling herself back against the wall, shuriken slipping from her hand.
Vincent, too weak to stand, gripped his bleeding side, his sword useless at his feet. His eyes sharpened with a last trace of pride, but even he thought it was their last moment.
Tom frowned, ready to stop Elior if he truly intended to strike them down. But then—
A small sound.
Click.
The branch jutting from Elior's left shoulder split once more, his flesh tearing slightly.
A white lily dangled from its thin limb, trembling as though alive. Elior plucked it, blood trailing from his fingertips. As he plucked it, it became visible to non Facebearers.
Tom froze when it happened. For the first time, he saw it—Elior's Face.
It appeared behind him, a figure woven from branches and scars, wings like cuts against reality itself. Its very presence bent the air. Tom's breath caught in his throat, his vision spinning at the sheer strangeness of it.
Elior crouched before the injured two. His face softened, losing that monstrous coldness.
He took another lily from his branch, holding both flowers in his hand. His voice was steady but faint, like a whisper against the chaos.
"Eat."
Neither Vincent nor Sassy moved, confusion on their pale faces. Tom lowered himself beside Elior, urging them softly. "Do it. Just take it."
With trembling hands, Vincent obeyed first, then Sassy.
The lilies dissolved the moment they touched their lips, green light seeping into their broken bodies. Wounds closed, skin stitched, and the blood faded from their forms as if rewound by time.
Gasps broke out from the arena crowd. No one had expected healing, especially not after the violence they had just witnessed.
Elior turned, his gaze wandering until it stopped on a small family sitting in the audience. Many faces pale, children clinging to their mother.
The same family who had hope to survive because of him, once thrown stones at him.
And then, after a long time in what felt like centuries, Elior smiled, not forcing himself.
"I forgive you," he said, not to them alone but to everyone watching, his words carrying across the ruined arena.
His voice slowly weakening, but it was steady. "I forgive all of you."
Vincent sat up slowly, hands trembling against the ground. His chest felt light, his wound gone, yet the shame inside him was unbearable.
He had raised his blade against the man who now saved him. The man he had tried to kill.
Beside him, Sassy pressed her hand against her shoulder, the place where Elior's unseen force had once ripped her apart. It was whole again, smooth skin where death had nearly claimed her.
Tears slipped down her face, though she bit her lip, trying not to let them fall. She had mocked him, laughed at him yet he had given her life when he could have just watched her bleed out.
Around the arena, whispers rose like waves.
"An angel…" someone chanted.
"He's… he's like an angel descended…"
"No… he's not a human. Something higher…"
" God sent help to us! Gracious! "
The same mouths that once cursed him, the same hands that hurled stones at his broken body, now trembled with reverence.
Elior stood silently in the center, broken arm still bandaged, his body faintly swaying from exhaustion.
The branches from his back dripped faint drops of blood onto the sand. His gaze turned cold at the word angel.
He chuckled, low and bitter. Then, lifting his head so all could hear, his voice cut through the murmurs.
"An angel?"
His eyes swept over them. The very people who once spat hatred, now worshiping him because he bled for them. His lips curled into a sharp smile, both painful and mocking.
"Angel doesn't bleed, you stack of fools."
The words resounded heavy in the midnight air, and silence swallowed the crowd whole.
Vincent lowered his head, unable to meet his eyes. Sassy clenched her fists until her nails drew blood.
Both of them had fought him, doubted him, tried to destroy him and yet here he was, carrying scars for them, still forgiving.
Grace covered her mouth, her shoulders trembling. She couldn't look away from Elior. His blood-soaked bandages, his tired stance, that haunting smile that looked more like joy than pain.
The people who once stoned him bowed their heads, some already crying, others whispering empty apologies that would never reach his heart.
Vincent and Sassy sat with their eyes lowered, unable to lift their gaze, as though they were children who had broken something priceless.
Tom scratched his head, blinking at the sudden shift.
What is even happening? He glanced at Vera, who only crossed his arms, his usual calm expression breaking with a faint frown, as though he too couldn't quite understand.
Tom finally spoke, breaking the silence:
"…Wait. Weren't we supposed to collect shards for the System?"
Elior turned his head toward him, a slow, tired laugh escaping his lips. Then another laugh, harsher, almost delirious. "Shards? Ha… ha-ha… I already finished that." His voice cracked, and he laughed again, too much and too long, like someone who had carried the truth alone for too long.
Everyone stared. Grace's eyes widened.
"I donated all of it," Elior said, tapping his chest with his broken arm, blood trickling anew. "All my blood. To the System. Piece by piece… so that damn task would stop."
The crowd gasped.
He tilted his head, smile twisted. "Wanted to give it all at once, you know? Be done with it. But… those three," his eyes flicked toward Vincent, Sassy, and where Azmaik once stood, "they would've gone wild again. So I told the System… take it slow. Little by little. While I… played teacher."
He chuckled again, but softer this time. "Didn't want to hurt anyone. Not even once. Azmaik… he was the first I ever killed. First blood on my hands… and it feels… wrong. Still feels wrong."
Grace shook her head, tears sliding down her cheeks. "You… you idiot…"
Elior looked over at Tom. "Hey… you're the one who finished that other quest, right? Ha… thought so. Good job." His eyes then fell on Vera, lingering longer, a faint warmth hidden beneath exhaustion. "And you…. Tom's… new friend, yeah? Don't look at me like that. You're worse at hiding your feelings than Tom is at scratching his head."
Even as his words came broken, uneven, his voice carried something heavy like a man trying to keep the world light while his own body crumbled.
" If my blood can buy even a little peace… then let it spill. Just… don't waste it. I never carried peace… only the ruins of it. Every step I walked was proof I wasn't enough. But look at you all… you're still here. That's more than I ever managed. Funny, isn't it? I was too scared to hurt anyone… but in the end, I hurt myself for everyone. Just tell them.... I wasn't kind. I was.... just afraid of being cruel. That's the kind of joke life likes telling. I never knew what winning felt like. Dying's the closest I got. So.... smile for me. It's the only thing I never could imagine to keep. "
[ Task Accomplished ]
[ The Night has been shortened ]
[ Due to it being the Trial/First Night ]
[ Remaining Survivors have passed the test to live in the Game ]
The Sun had rose over his head....
Finally, he closed his eyes, whispering something no one caught, a faint smile still on his face. Then, slowly, his sight fell on the earth, and the arena floor caught him in silence.