His agonized scream echoed off the crumbling walls, cutting cleanly through the deep rumble of the subterranean vault.
Near the escape route, Benji’s head snapped toward the center of the hall. His stomach dropped as he saw Toka collapsed on one knee, clutching his ruined hand while his breathing came in ragged, desperate gasps.
"Toka..." Benji whispered, his voice draining of breath.
Slowly, Benji turned his head back to face Tera. Her blade was still leveled inches from his face, but his eyes were now trembling with raw, conflicted emotion.
"Tera, what are you doing?" he pleaded, his throat tight. "Stop this now and come back to your senses! Toka's hurt... and Yomi is in critical condition!"
"Shut up!" She snarled, her jaw clenching so hard the muscles in her cheek twitched.
Benji lowered his gaze to the stone floor, his shoulders sinking. "You know... you used to be one of the few people I truly admired."
"Oh, yeah? Then you must be pretty damn stupid, I'd say."
"Am I?" Benji murmured into the shadow of his chest. "I guess... I guess it’s not the first time I've heard that. Maybe he was right afterall." He forced his chin up, looking straight into her unyielding glare. "But still! With everything falling apart around us, is this really what you want? Look around you, Tera! We're all going to die here if we don't move right now and save ourselves!"
"I said shut up!" she barked, thrusting the tip of the knife half an inch closer to his throat. "I am warning you for the last time!"
A violent tremor shook the foundations of the cavern, sending a cascading sheet of fine dust and heavy stones raining down from above. Both of them swayed under the sudden vibration, the subterranean ceiling groaning as more cracks spiderwebbed across the ancient vault.
"Tell me, Tera!" Benji shouted over the grinding stone. "Do you really want us all to die here?!"
"Who told you I was dying here with you dimwits?" she spat, her voice ringing with cold confidence. "Me and my baby are getting out of here the second he's done with him. There is no way in hell I'm getting buried beneath this cave."
"Tera...?" Benji’s breath caught in his chest, the word escaping his lips in pure, stunned horror
A few paces away from Toka, Haramuci let out a low, ragged growl as he forced his battered body to move. Slowly raising his head from the stone floor, a sudden burst of laughter spilled from his throat, echoing against Toka's muffled groans of pain.
He hauled himself back onto his feet, still clutching his arm with one hand. He kept laughing, his eyes fixed on Toka with the satisfied gleam of a man who had accomplished precisely what he set out to do.
Stepping closer, he watched as Toka forced his chin up, his gaze meeting his approaching opponent while still kneeling, hand clamped tight around his injured wrist.
"Isn't this wonderful?" Haramuci mused, his voice carrying an unhinged delight. "I mean... seeing how much fun of an experience this whole survival test has turned out to be?"
Toka said nothing, his breathing labored, his eyes never leaving the man.
"Pain and suffering are the fate of those who lack the insight, those who fail to recognize the patterns," Haramuci said, his tone dropping into a deep, heavy register as he looked down at Toka on the ground. "Those who enter this survival test believing this game rewards friendship or indulges the cherry-picked fantasies of big dreamers."
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Haramuci narrowed his eyes, his voice lowering into a calm, measured purr accompanied by a faint smile. "I'm sure you must be wondering... how I got this far, gathering Stage Two users under my command while remaining merely a Stage One myself."
Toka’s jaw tightened.
"Yes, that's right... Just like I said," he continued softly. "Insight and patterns. That is all you truly need."
"Mhmm..." Toka grunted, wiping sweat from his brow with his good hand. He began to push himself upward off the fractured stone. "Don't think this fight is over yet. You may have damaged my arm, but I still have plenty of fight left in me."
"Oh, clearly I can see that," Haramuci chuckled smoothly. "I never said it was over. Besides... I've already passed my judgment on you and your friends."
Toka finally forced himself into a full stand, balancing his weight carefully. "And what could that possibly be?"
"Tell me something," Haramuci asked, tilting his head. "Do you even know what ground we are standing on?"
Toka watched him silently, his brow furrowed as Haramuci reached into his back-pocket and pulled out a small, worn leather-bound book.
"You see, ever since I first made it to this hidden territory," He explained, holding the volume up, "I didn't just use my skills to establish myself. I also took the time to search for the most impactful asset, the single piece of knowledge that can control everyone, no matter who they are."
Toka’s breath hitched into a faint whisper. "That book..."
"That's right!" Haramuci grinned, running a thumb over the cracked leather cover. "This is what you and your little army have been risking your lives for. The geographical chronicle, the very key required to survive this test."
He flipped open the thick, yellowed pages as he spoke, his voice ringing across the ruined hall.
"With all the idle time I had waiting for your team to arrive, I devoted my spare hours into studying every detail within this text: the history of the Dead Forest, the precise distinctions between its various regions, and the survival traits that define each one of them."
"Oh yeah?" Toka rasped, keeping his guard up with his functional hand. "And what does that mean?"
Haramuci fixed his eyes on him, his expression sharpening with absolute focus.
"There is a deep history underneath this forest, I'll tell you: In the ancient times, a powerful deity watched over the trees and soil of this forest, the good and the bad, the beautiful and what's not," Haramuci began, his voice calm as he spoke.
"This deity was revered by a specific clan who migrated from the south after their liberation, settling around this blessed landscape. It is written that every three years, a grand festival was hosted by this clan. It was a tradition so sacred that every rising generation would undergo a special ritual."
"A ritual...?" Toka repeated quietly.
"Oh, yes," he smiled, his fingers fanning out across the old paper. "A ritual passed down as part of an ancestral covenant with the deity that granted them a home. A home they were bound to protect with their lives."
Toka’s eyes remained fixed on him, analyzing every movement as Haramuci snapped the leather book shut with a sharp, heavy clap.
"Do you understand what this means now, Toka?"
Toka’s breath caught in his throat.
"That's right," Haramuci whispered, his dark gaze piercing through the settling dust. "You are standing directly upon that history. And just as this sacred ground was built upon sacrifice... so shall you and your friends be buried and forgotten beneath this monument. That is my final judgment."