The screen went black. If I hadn't chugged that health potion at the last second, I wouldn't even have ten percent of my HP left when I opened my eyes. I'm pushing myself up with my hands.
The coldness of rubble and blood-red ice presses against my palms. Sitting hunched over at the end of the path I carved on the ice-covered ground, I realize I've been sent straight back into the Arena.
"Are you the ones appointed as regents to rule the Earth in our stead? Are you, so fragile, incompetent, and immoral, truly worthy of being the Creator's shadow?"
He has a smile on his face, while his tongue repeatedly plunges a venomous stinger into my body. I'm out of health potions. I never really carried them anyway; thanks to Rimel's presence, that need was practically non-existent. Now that the teenage girl of our party isn't with me, running out of potions means my death warrant is signed.
