Heavy steps echoed through the slaughtered cave, sounding like the blow of a hammer on the walls of the soul. Ashn stood in the middle of the altar, the blood dagger in his hand trembling between his fingers. He had not decided yet, but fate had not given him the luxury of choice.
Shadows appeared first, then strange human-shaped bodies materialized. There were five of them, led by a boy with cold eyes that did not fit his childish face. Behind him stood older men, but they all carried the same aura: a mix of thirst for blood and undisguised greed.
One of them stepped forward with arrogant steps, his voice cutting the silence like a whip:
"You stranger… that dagger is not yours. Hand it over at once."
But the boy, the clear leader, raised his hand coldly without changing his expression. He spoke in a low voice that carried an order with no room for argument:
"Kill him… and take back the dagger."
They gave him no chance to answer. One man spat on the ground, raised his hand, and a red spell wrapped his fingers like a snake. In a flash, a dark flame shot from his hand like a spear and pierced Ashn's chest.
Ashn's body convulsed, his breath faltered, and his knees almost gave out. He tasted blood in his mouth, and when he looked down he saw his chest opened with a wound that burned like embers. He fell to his knees, his vision fading, their voices mixing with his weak heartbeats.
But inside that tearing pain, another voice was born… his voice, warped by madness and hatred:
"If I survive… I will not forget. This debt of shame… I will take revenge on all of you."
He felt his heart was no longer a heart but an explosive mass of hatred. He saw nothing before him but the calm smile of that boy, as if it were an eternal insult carved into his being.
The dagger in his hand began to twitch, glowing with a bloody light as if it heard a mysterious call.
He hesitated for a moment. Then he laughed, a laugh full of despair and savagery:
"If you want my blood… take it. But know this… I will not leave."
He raised the dagger and drove it with all his strength into his own heart.
It was not an ordinary stab. The instant the blade pierced his chest, a dense bloody light exploded and swept the cave with its echoes. His screams mixed with a cosmic roar unlike any human sound. The ground shook, the corpses that filled the cave opened their eyes for a moment, and their auras trembled as if they welcomed a new arrival.
Ashn fell to his knees, the dagger buried in his heart, his veins glowing with glowing blood lines that split his skin like living red tattoos. He was between life and death, but his wide eyes showed only one thing: unyielding brutal determination.
The last thing he heard before losing consciousness was a deep voice filling the void, coming from the heart of the altar itself:
"Welcome to the Court of Blood. Either you rise
, or you are buried here forever."