In the castle's back courtyard, night was beginning to fall, as if to close the curtain on the dreadful events of the day.
Maïli, her face pale and slick with sweat, vomited convulsively against an old wall. Each retch forced her to relive the image of her blade sinking into the little girl's chest: the shock of metal, the warmth of blood, the silent terror, and then the fading light of life in her eyes. The dull sound of the body collapsing to the ground replayed in her mind endlessly, haunting her like a curse.
A few meters away, Zem kept his head lowered. He knew that some scars never truly healed.
When Maïli finally stopped retching, gasping for breath, she turned to him, her eyes feverish and red:
"How… how did you get used to doing things like this?" she asked in a broken voice.
Zem slowly shook his head, his voice deep, unwavering:
"You never really get used to it, Maïli."
A terrible silence fell, broken only by the wind and the young woman's muffled sobs. Maïli furiously wiped away her tears, her fists trembling with rage.
"When you told me I'd have to do horrible things, I thought I was ready… I thought I could endure it. But this… this is beyond anything I imagined. Tell me… will I have to do even worse?" she pleaded, her voice raw and desperate.
Zem met her gaze, his own hard but full of compassion.
"Yes. You will. In this world, there's always worse… and you'll have to live with it."
"Zem, I just killed a child… a little girl! What could possibly be worse than that? And them… up there, on their dais, they laughed, they applauded like it was all some game! I'll burn their castle to ashes!" she roared, torrents of mana erupting from her in a storm of green and dark crimson.
The ground cracked beneath her feet, gusts scattering dust and dead leaves.
Her grief had turned into raw, visceral hatred, wild and uncontrollable. Her aura swelled, vibrating with pain and rage, ready to explode.
But before she could move, Zem's mana crashed down on her like an ancient tempest: colossal, cold, merciless. In an instant, the pressure crushed all resistance. Her power was stifled, suppressed, mastered like that of a child. Maïli collapsed to her knees, gasping, paralyzed by the overwhelming force bearing down on her.
Zem spoke again, his voice graver still, kneeling beside her so their eyes met at soul level:
"You want to know what's worse than killing one little girl, Maïli? It's killing hundreds… hundreds of innocents, over and over, because here, there's no end to the suffering you're forced to endure. The only difference is what you choose to do with it: give up… or fight in the shadows so that one day, this nightmare ends."
Maïli's eyes widened. She had read about such horrors in books, but the reality was a thousand times heavier than words could ever convey. And Zem did not stop.
"I've seen whole villages burned. Girls and women raped. Babies slaughtered in their cradles. Children and men tortured in sordid experiments, leaving nothing but piles of rotting corpses."
Each word was another hammer blow. The horrors Zem described stripped away what was left of Maïli's fragile armor. Villages in flames. Children butchered. Innocents crushed by cruelty. Her face froze in despair as the crushing weight of this world's reality pressed down on her chest.
Zem sighed deeply, then placed his hands on her shoulders, his grave gaze softened with genuine sincerity.
"I was like you once… full of ideals, wanting to change the world, to do what was right."
Maïli raised her reddened eyes toward him, her voice fractured between plea and doubt:
"And… are you no longer that man?"
A sad smile crossed Zem's face.
"I still am. But I've learned that my power, as great as it is, is nothing more than a drop of water in an ocean. Now, I do only what is within my reach nothing more."
"You? A drop of water in an ocean?" Maïli whispered, stunned. To her, Zem was invincible.
"Believe me, Maïli. There are beings in this world far stronger than me. Some of them… are simply terrifying. You can't face everything, can't change everything… not alone."
That was the final blow. Maïli's defenses shattered. She broke down, sobbing, drowning in despair. If even Zem, this pillar, admitted to helplessness… who could stand against such darkness? She felt herself sinking, small and powerless before the enormity of evil.
But Zem pulled her into his arms, like a protective older brother, letting her cry freely without shame. His embrace carried warmth, strength, and a silent promise.
"You know, I've vomited too. I've cried. I almost gave in… But even so, I still managed to save lives, sometimes in secret. Letting children escape, diverting an order, warning a village in advance… It's not a grand revolution, no. But every small victory counts, even if the world doesn't change right away."
"I don't want to settle for that… I don't want to just survive in this nightmare," Maïli stammered, clinging to him.
Zem let the silence stretch before answering, his conviction burning steady:
"Then you need to become stronger far stronger than you are now. And I know you can. You could even surpass me one day. It all depends on you."
She wiped her tears with the back of her hand, her gaze shining with new, almost feral determination.
"You'll stand by me?" she whispered, trembling but hopeful.
"Always. You and your friends I'll keep you under my wing as long as it takes."
Maïli clenched her fists, gathering the shards of her inner strength.
"Then… I'll become stronger. I promise. I'll do it for me, for you… so that one day, no one else will ever have to endure this."
Zem felt the fire reignite within her, fiercer than before. In the silence of his thoughts, he made his own vow:
"I will protect these children, no matter what… until they are strong enough to face this world on their own."
"I'd like… to do something, please," Maïli asked as the rain began to fall.
"Of course."
Together, they went to recover the children's bodies, to give them a proper burial. It was done in heavy, painful silence, broken only by the patter of rain. But they wanted to offer the children in death a kindness they had never known in life.
Maïli knelt before each grave, gently placing a red rose on every mound of earth. Her hands trembled as she whispered with fierce determination:
"One day, I will avenge you."
Inside the castle, silence reigned supreme. Many had locked themselves away in their chambers, unable to face the horror of the day's ordeal. Some lay curled up on their beds, shaken by uncontrollable sobs, their eyes hollow, reliving again and again the nightmare they had been forced to endure. The most fragile had vomited repeatedly, their bodies trembling, unable to calm down. Guilt and trauma seeped into every corner of their beings.
But for others, the feeling was entirely different. Behind a door, in a livelier chamber, a group was congratulating themselves on their triumph.
"Man, if you had seen Maïli's face it was hilarious!" Maverick laughed.
"Not just her! Almost her whole group broke down. But thanks to this trial, I finally got ahead of Eléonore and became a hero in her place," Maël boasted, a smug smile curling his lips.
"Looks like everyone's happy," remarked Jay quietly from the corner, his tone calmer than the others.
Maverick shook his head, still laughing:
"Not you, Jay? Come on we'll be rich, live the good life, and everything that comes with it!"
Jay looked away, a shadow of unease on his face.
"I still killed a child. That's nothing to celebrate."
Maël shrugged, a note of contempt in his voice:
"A child? That's a big word. It wasn't even human. It's like a dog getting run over by a carriage, honestly."
Jay held his gaze, saying nothing, before asking tiredly:
"Where's Emma?"
"Off puking somewhere, like a little weakling," Maël mocked with a grin.
Maverick paused, struck by a thought:
"You guys are forgetting something Maïli will be part of the group too…"
Shawn's face tightened briefly, frustration flashing in his eyes.
"That's true. But why was she chosen, when she didn't kill anyone of her own will?" he grumbled.
"They couldn't do otherwise," Jay explained matter-of-factly. "She's still the strongest here. Impossible to leave her out, no matter how much it bothers some of us."
Maverick threw up his hands:
"But how can her class be stronger than Shawn's, who's the hero? It makes no sense!"
Jay smirked faintly:
"Same as you and Eléonore, isn't it? Sometimes it's not the class that makes the difference."
Maël clenched his teeth, irritated:
"Shut it. I just lack experience, and I've got more elements to juggle, that's all."
Jay cut the tension short:
"Whatever. It doesn't change the fact we'll have to work with her."
Shawn, his expression cold, let a satisfied smile return:
"Either way, she's bound hand and foot. She can't leave, and she can't oppose us openly. She's stuck with us, whether she likes it or not."
"And the others, the ones who failed?"
Shawn answered without a shred of hesitation:
"They're not our problem."
Later that night, in the royal hall, the atmosphere was entirely different. On the silk carpets, under glittering chandeliers, the kingdom's elite had gathered. Raphael, seated near his father, wore a predatory smile.
"That was a splendid show you gave us, Moïse," he declared, visibly delighted.
Moïse bowed with feigned respect, pride gleaming in his eyes:
"Thank you, my Prince."
The king, on his throne, surveyed his advisers and children with satisfaction. Tonight, the court celebrated the birth of its new heroes and the renewed docility of its future pawns.
"Well then, the hero selection is officially complete. I wish to thank all our esteemed instructors for answering the call," he proclaimed solemnly.
"It was an honor, Your Majesty," Peney replied with theatrical elegance, bowing low.
The others followed suit, all saluting respectfully before leaving the chamber except for Zem, still standing firm in his role as royal knight.
Moïse spoke again, his voice steady:
"The new heroes will soon be inaugurated in a grand public ceremony. After their consecration, they'll set out to accomplish various quests, gaining power and experience before facing their first dungeons."
He paused briefly, then added darkly:
"As for those who failed, some still displayed a certain potential. It would be a waste to discard them entirely."
The king stroked his beard thoughtfully. Zem seized the moment, his voice calm but resolute:
"Why not integrate some into our order of knights?"
The king's eyes narrowed with interest:
"Who do you suggest, Zem?"
"I propose Karine, Eva, and Eléonore. I vouch for their loyalty and potential."
A silence followed. Moïse gave a pragmatic nod:
"I see no issue, Your Majesty. They are candidates worth considering."
The king agreed:
"Very well… And the others?"
Moïse's tone turned glacial:
"Even if some lack talent, their professions could become dangerous if they grew in power. It would be reckless to risk them turning against us or joining an enemy faction. I recommend eliminating them outright. Better safe than sorry."
The king's reply was sharp, implacable:
"That seems reasonable."
"No wait! There must be another way!" Zem cut in.
Moïse looked at him, amused:
"Something to add, Zem?"
The knight folded his arms, weighing each word:
"Why kill them? It serves no purpose. You let Logan go without issue, after all."
Moïse raised a brow, smirking:
"That trash posed no threat. Killing him right away would've tarnished our image and sent the wrong message to the others."
"But these ones have neither the level nor the skills to be a threat," Zem pressed, his voice gaining strength. "How could they ever compete?"
"If they joined a rival nation, like Ria, they could pass along information or serve as a symbol of rebellion," Moïse countered.
The king nodded, the decision seemingly made. Zem scrambled for another argument, then resorted to cunning:
"Then why not keep them as leverage? Maïli remains difficult to control. You saw it she'd openly oppose Shawn, even the whole group, to stand by her convictions. Holding her friends could give us a handle on her."
The king considered this, trading glances with Moïse. But Moïse's smile was cold:
"Not a bad idea, Zem. But I've already thought of several ways to leash Maïli. And the king has agreed we'll use the most direct means if necessary."
His tone hardened:
"We don't need those failures. If Maïli becomes a problem, we'll brand her with a slave seal… or wipe her mind clean with tried-and-true methods. Quick. Effective."
A chill shot through Zem as he imagined the horrors they might inflict on her. Worse still, the others were condemned to death. He had only one option left. Dropping to one knee, he looked the king squarely in the eyes.
"My king, I beg you… They're just adolescents. Show mercy! It would not befit your greatness to take their lives, when they never had a choice in being summoned here. Grant them the right to live as they wish. And if they ever rise against us then, and only then, we will crush them, as you yourself say, like the insects they are."
The silence was heavy. The king stroked his beard slowly, holding Zem's gaze, weighing his loyal knight's sincerity. All awaited the verdict.
At last, the king leaned forward, his voice grave:
"You're right, Zem. It would not befit me. We've already taken their world, their families, their innocence… There is no need to add their deaths. And if any dare turn on us, it will be easy enough to silence them. I grant your request, solely because you are my strongest and most faithful knight. So be it they will be spared. More than that, we'll even give them some gold to start their new lives, far from this castle."
Zem bowed deeply, both knees on the floor, head lowered in absolute gratitude.
"Thank you, my king. I will never forget your mercy."
And so the meeting ended, the doomed youths saved at the last moment thanks to Zem's intervention.
The next morning, the scars of the ordeal were still raw, far too deep to fade overnight. At breakfast, Béa was absent. No one thought much of it at first, assuming she wished to be alone after yesterday's horror. But as the day wore on and she never appeared, not even at lunch, unease spread among Maïli's group.
By four o'clock, they decided to knock on her door, hoping she would answer.
"Béa, are you okay? You weren't there this morning or at lunch," Beth called, worry edging her voice.
No answer. They knocked again, harder this time, calling out but silence persisted, oppressive. A suffocating tension filled the corridor.
Gripped by dread, Karine forced the handle. The door burst open, revealing a scene of horror.
A chilling draft swept the room as their faces froze in shock.
Before their eyes, Béa hung from the ceiling beam, swaying gently. A blanket was knotted tightly around her neck, her face pale and tinged purple from strangulation. The curtains were open, letting in the fading evening light, casting the shadow of her body onto the floorboards.
A deafening silence smothered the group.
Beth clutched her mouth, a strangled cry caught in her throat. Éva staggered back, tears spilling down her face. Even Maïli, usually so strong, felt her knees buckle under the weight of the sight.
The reality of what they had all endured struck harder than ever. Béa had not been able to bear it. She had chosen death, leaving behind a macabre gift for her companions.