CHAPTER 6 ‒ The Reason

After the morning training, we all followed the soldiers to the barn from the day before to get something to eat. As always, the food consisted only of old leftovers.

But the food wasn’t the main topic of conversation.

"That really caught me off guard." I spoke to Kyodai while gulping down my meal.

"Not just you. Imagine how I felt when a black plate suddenly stuck to my skin?" Kyodai ran his hand over the wound on his neck.

"That was a good hit. If the blade had been sharp, I wouldn’t be sitting here so casually right now." His voice sounded amused, but his eyes told a different story.

We had fought hard and taken quite a few injuries. I had my fair share of bruises and sprains from Kyodai as well.

"Sorry." I paused and stared at my plate.

"No need to be. That was the deal ‒ and it was worth the effort." With a gesture, he pointed to the other table.
"Two more awakened their magic." He motioned toward a lanky, tall young man with short hair and a sturdy, middle-aged woman.

"It was a success ‒ and we have you to thank for that." He continued eating.
"I just want to survive ‒ like all of us. But I never expected everyone to go along with it." I let my gaze wander through the room. Many were rubbing their sore hands – the intense training had worn their skin raw. Some even struggled to hold their food.
Aikai dropped heavily into a seat beside us. After training, she had lain motionless on the training ground ‒ Kang had beaten her mercilessly. Even with her magic, she had been no match for him. When we tried to help her, Kang forbade it and left her there. Apparently, she had managed to make it here on her own.

"I hate that bastard!" She let out an angry sigh and glared at her food.

When she bit into the hard bread, she flinched ‒ a sharp pain shot through her jaw. She grimaced.

"I hope he goes after you next time." She looked at us.

"Not a chance. I haven’t awakened my magic yet ‒ that would kill me."

Guilt gnawed at me. Aikai and Kyodai had already awakened their magic ‒ though not perfectly. Others faced the same problem. And even though I wasn’t the only one, I kept wondering how much longer it would take until I finally awakened mine.

Why was that? I felt stronger. My wounds had disappeared. But the fight against Kyodai today… that wasn’t me. I can’t fight. Or… could I once? I don’t understand what’s happening to me, but my magic still hasn’t awakened. And I don’t have time… What if it never happens? Would I end up like them…?

Lost in thought, I barely noticed as other groups entered the old barn. The ones who had also taken part in the training had suffered losses. I knew Kang was a monster ‒ but the other instructors could be even crueler…

Shortly after, the two other groups that hadn’t returned fully yesterday arrived. Now, only fourteen remained. Whatever had happened to them ‒ their numbers were shrinking relentlessly. The soldier who had led them here marched toward us.

"You! Come with me!" He pointed at our group and ordered us to stand. Most obeyed and followed his command ‒ but some remained motionless, as if the ground had been ripped out from under them.

Soft, desperate whispers spread through the room. "No… no… What are you doing to us? Why do fewer and fewer come back?" Namida’s voice trembled with fear.

"That’s none of your concern! Get up and move!" The soldier gripped the hilt of his sword and stepped closer, his stance threatening. But Namida didn’t move.

She drew in a shaky breath, her eyes darting to the others in panic ‒ but no one moved. Her fingers dug into the wooden bench beneath her, as if clinging to it could save her, as if it were her last hope. "No…" Her voice was barely a whisper. "Please…"

The soldier took another step forward and drew his sword. The blade gleamed in the light. Someone held their breath. My own body tensed. Was he really going to do it? Would he just…?

Then, at the very last moment, Yogore unexpectedly stepped in between them.

"Hey, hey, what are you doing? Get up." His voice was unusually gentle ‒ a strong contrast to yesterday. Then, just a whisper. "You remember what we talked about, right? The greatest danger comes from them. Don’t resist ‒ then you’ll survive."

Yogore had clearly taken the plan to heart. Namida took a deep breath, then rose to her feet. Fear flickered in her eyes ‒ but her stance remained resolute.

The soldiers led us across the inner courtyard. Once again, our eyes fell on the garden we had glimpsed when leaving the cellar. We passed the entrance to that very same underground chamber. Memories of the previous day resurfaced. Some slowed their pace, afraid of being sent back down. But a soldier at the rear of our group urged them forward.

This time, we didn’t descend ‒ instead, they led us through the door on the right.

Inside, the older woman who had dissolved the barrier before was waiting for us.

She stood at the edge of the room, carefully letting strange, shimmering liquids drip from one vessel into another. She hadn’t even noticed us until the soldier addressed her.

"Lady Chiyo. The next group of heroes has arrived."The elderly woman, Chiyo, ignored him and continued her work.

"Uh… Lady Chi ‒ "

"I heard you!" Her voice suddenly thundered through the room. "Just wait until I’m finished." She sounded irritated. "It can’t begin without me anyway."

The soldier took a step back, looking slightly embarrassed.

We all stood there for a good fifteen minutes while Chiyo continued pouring strange liquids from one vessel to another. Occasionally, reactions occurred ‒ smoke rose from the containers, or odd noises filled the air.

Then, suddenly, everything went silent. She turned to face us, her gaze sweeping over the group.

"Good, let’s not waste any more time." There was an amused glint in her eyes as she spoke.

She walked over to a wall and pulled a lever. Suddenly, the wall shifted, revealing its grim secret.

It was a small chamber, no larger than three by three meters. In the center stood a single chair. Shackles were attached to its legs and armrests, and strange tubes extended from it in all directions throughout the room. Faintly visible beneath the chair was a magical sigil ‒ almost entirely obscured by blood, hair, and other filth.

A foul stench hit us like a wave, and a collective shudder ran through the group ‒ a nauseating blend of blood, burnt flesh, and something rotten that clung to the inside of my nose, refusing to leave. The floor crunched beneath my feet, as if I were stepping on bones. I dared to look down ‒ and froze.

Hair. Human hair, matted with dried blood.

Nausea surged up inside me. My fingers trembled as I clenched them into fists. I couldn't show weakness. Not here.

Many covered their noses, trying in vain to block out the stench that suddenly engulfed us ‒ it was impossible. Some pressed their hands over their mouths, struggling not to retch. Even the soldiers beside us had difficulty maintaining their composure. One by one, they pulled cloths from their pockets and held them over their noses.

Yesterday, we had been a hundred. The chosen hundred, the last hope. But today, only around seventy-one remained ‒ and now we finally knew where the others had gone. What we saw before us were their remains. The woman clearly hadn’t bothered to dispose of them, leaving them to rot at our feet.

As if on command, we all took a step back ‒ only to find that the soldiers had already formed a wall of cold steel behind us.

Chiyo raised her hand, and a strange cracking sound filled the room. It took me a moment to realize that it was coming from the chair.The shackles twitched as if they were alive, jerking and snapping at something unseen. A low hum vibrated through the air, and fine, invisible threads of magic slithered along the walls, whispering as they moved. A chill ran down my spine.

"Well then..." Chiyo’s voice sliced through the tense silence. She straightened, a faint smile playing on her lips.
"Let’s begin."