Hudson POV:
I wondered how the king was going to push me. I knew it would be difficult, impossible even. It would be irrational for me to assume otherwise. So as I stepped into this new space, the first thing I noticed was the silence. It wasn't just quiet; it was eerily so, like the world had taken a deep breath and forgotten to exhale. The corridor stretched out before me, long and dim, its walls scrutinizing my every movement, every hesitation. I was being watched. Judged.
Then I saw it, something that stood out against the oppressive darkness. A light.
A light at the end of the tunnel. What a cliché. A final joke played at my expense. It beckoned me forward, pulling me towards it, towards my fate, towards my demise. And as much as I wished I could turn away, my feet had no choice but to move. I stepped forward, a prisoner of destiny, marching to the beat of an unseen drum.
With each step, the light grew. So did the noise.
A low hum at first, like an irritating whisper in my ear. But then it grew, an incessant, buzzing cacophony. It felt as if the universe itself was mocking me. Each step I took made it louder, a jeering chorus that grated against my bones. But despite the aggravation, despite the insult to my circumstance, I didn't stop. I couldn't. The moment I hesitated, I was dead.
Then the buzzing changed. No longer a jeer, but something else. Louder. Rhythmic.
Cheers.
That's when I understood. That's when I realized the true setting of this trial. This was an arena. The light wasn't just an exit, it was a doorway. A doorway to my battle. To my opponents. To my prey.
And of course, they thought the same of me.
The moment I stepped into the blinding brightness, the crowd erupted, screaming my name louder than any bloodthirsty deity. Why? I didn't know. I didn't care. My body trembled with anticipation, not from fear, but from something far greater. Was this it? Was this my grand recognition? Were all my misfortunes finally worth something?
I stepped further, my eyes adjusting, and there they were. My adversaries. My executioners.
Three of them stood at the opposite end of the arena, their forms dripping with seductiveness. Beautiful in a way that felt artificial, like a perfectly sculpted painting hiding something grotesque beneath its surface. Their lips curled into smiles, but their eyes… their eyes betrayed them. Slitted pupils like those of reptiles, claws twitching with hunger, wings drawn back, poised for battle.
They didn't try to hide their bloodlust. No pretense. No illusions.
This would be a fight to the death.
I activated my Identify skill, bracing myself for the reality of my situation. The information flashed before me.
3x Empousa(D)
HP: 25000 x 3
And then another notification. A message.
Your potential patron warns you of danger.
A warning? A futile gesture. I already knew. This is the wall that was impossible for any mortal to surpass in the tutorial. The king had sent me here to die. The cheers were not a celebration, but a farewell hymn. The final song before my death.
I was nothing but a feast served on a silver platter.
But I wasn't going to let them eat.
I gritted my teeth and focused. I couldn't lose myself in my own madness,not again. The last time I let go, I had nearly crossed a point of no return. If I lost myself here, it was over.
My instincts sharpened. My eyes locked onto the Empousai. My prey.
The first attacked without hesitation, wings flaring as she propelled forward, releasing a gust of wind. Sand flew into my eyes, burning, stinging, forcing me to drop to one knee. A perfect opening. She lunged for my neck.
But my eyes never closed.
With sheer will, I raised my sword, steel meeting talons in a screeching clash. The force of the blow sent her skidding back. Her arrogance had cost her. I surged forward, blade seeking flesh, aiming for a killing strike.
Then the second struck.
Pain.
A deep gash tore across my side. Hot blood spilled, staining the sand beneath me. I swung wildly, desperate to retaliate, to take a head, to claim a victory.
But my arms. They were weak. My strength was leaving me. My vision blurred. My body begged for surrender.
And yet. They were getting slower. My instincts weren't wrong. My logic was sound. If I kept calm, I could survive. If I let go, if I succumbed to the rage clawing at my mind, I would lose. My mind had to be sharper than my blade.
The battle devolved into a storm of steel and talons. Every strike drew blood,mine and theirs. Every breath came with fire, with agony. But I was smiling. I was winning. I could feel it.
Then, they smiled too.
Why? Were they enjoying this as much as I was? It didn't matter. All that meant was that we were both the same. We both loved the smell of blood. Loved the act of violence. That is what is important to us. And unfortunately for them only one of us would continue this.
I tried to lift my sword for one final strike. To finish it now. After all, all good things must come to an end.
But my sword didn't rise. Why? There was no poison. I would have been notified. This is something else. What did I miss? My patron warned me but why? The Empousa had another ability didn't they? What was it? I didn't have the time to read about it. What can I possibly do?
Then the cheers of the crowd blurred into white noise. The faces of the Empousai twisted into grins,mocking, triumphant. I had played their game, danced to their rhythm. And now, I was theirs.
I had thought I was the predator.
But I was always the prey.