Walking through the long hallways of the church, Alhen stopped in front of a wooden door.

  He paused his hand on the handle and took a deep breath.

  His racing heart calmed down somewhat, and he opened the door.

  The first thing he saw was the row of worn-out beds side by side.

  His gaze shifted to the far right of the room, and he saw someone who made him grimace.

  Henry came into view, his body bandaged and looking skinnier than before.

  Alhen threw a forced smile in his direction, but Henry just rolled his eyes and urged him to come over.

  As he took steps forward, the constant racing of thoughts didn’t let him concentrate on anything other than what would be the first thing he would tell Henry after he woke up.

  Without noticing when, Alhen had arrived and now stood to the side of a lying-down Henry.

  He thought about what to say, but Henry beat him to it.

  “I learned my lesson,” he said.

  Alhen’s eyes widened as he negated his words, rapidly shaking his head.

  “What lesson are you talking about? Father Vincent is just unreasonable. And I’m the one who’s supposed to say sorry, I got you in this mess in the first place,” Alhen said rapidly, but Henry stayed silent, looking lost in thought.

  “How are you feeling? It’s been a few cycles already, I thought you wouldn’t wake up… I thought you were never waking up,” Alhen added, not being able to handle the silence.

  “I am fine… So I have been sleeping for some cycles already, huh,” Henry responded, looking like he was talking to himself.

  “I wish Father Vincent’s nuns gave me a vial of that blue liquid, then I would not have to be lying like this for seemingly forever,” Henry commented, looking somewhat upset.

  A light smile crept up Alhen’s face, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

  “That’s good to hear, you are still you. Father Vincent sent me to get you; we are doing something in a few minutes," he said.

  Henry nodded before lightly stretching his body and leaving his bed.

  When his feet touched the ground, his knees buckled under the weight, and Alhen reacted just in time to catch him.

  “Whoa! Be careful, you just woke up, take things slowly for a few minutes,” Alhen advised.

  “T-Thanks, seems like I will have to be more careful. I would like to take things slowly, but if we do, I do not know what Father Vincent will do to me. It is better to be safe than sorry,” Henry said.

  Alhen nodded and helped Henry walk, supporting him by the arm, which he wrapped around his own neck, and left the room.

  The hallway was strangely quiet this cycle, with no soul in sight.

  The only sound they could hear was that of their rhythmic steps on the stone floor of the church.

  They eventually arrived in front of the door leading to that traumatic place, which had left a sour taste in them.

  Henry, at this point in time, had recovered some of his strength and stood without assistance.

  Alhen stood in front of the huge door and took a deep breath.

  He heard muffled sounds inside and waited a couple of seconds to push open the door with all his might.

  The door slowly creaked open from the force generated by his muscles.

  The light from inside hit both of them in the face, making them squint their eyes as the sounds became clearer the more the door opened.

  Inside, the quadrilaterals, full of blood from a couple of days ago, came into view.

  Men dressed in long, plain robes were barefoot and completely unmoving inside these quadrilaterals.

  A group of kids sat in an organized circle, whispering amongst themselves.

  Their heads turned in their direction, and Alhen could see some fearful looks turning to those of relief.

  He didn’t remain staring for a long time and walked to the circle with a now recovered Henry following behind him.

  They took their place inside the circle and noticed that the whispers had stopped.

  The kids looked at them without saying anything.

  The silence turned deafening.

  Alhen could feel the stares piercing his back, and after a few minutes of bearing this feeling, Father Vincent arrived in his usual attire.

  The door opened once again with a slow creak.

  There was an immediate effect; the room stilled, with almost everyone holding their breath.

  Father Vincent approached and stood in front of them, sweeping his gaze over all the kids before nodding to himself.

  He clapped his hands, commanding more attention than he was already given.

  “Today, we will be doing something special. Something that you will all do once a month: you will fight.” Father Vincent said.

  He looked at the kids, who threw doubtful looks at each other and then gave them a slight smile before resuming his speech.

  “It is going to be a fight to the death. This will show the church who is disposable and who is not," Father Vincent paused.

  "Make sure that you fight to the best of your abilities and kill your opponent, or the one who is going to be killed, is going to be you," he finished.

  At the end of his sentence, Alhen could swear that Father Vincent was looking at him, making him sweat hard.

  Father Vincent ignored the terrified expressions of the kids and clapped his hands once again.

  He selected those who would fight each other one by one, going through the list at a fast speed.

  The chosen kids offered no complaint, knowing the futility of it, and they nervously walked to the quadrilaterals, the pairs standing in opposing corners.

  Alhen stood on the sidelines looking to his right.

  ‘Henry is too close,’ he got a bad feeling in his chest.

  Alhen tried to move away slowly so that the father didn’t notice him, but it was useless.

  “Henry and Alhen,” Father Vincent called out, approaching their location.

  Alhen clenched his fists from the nerves, and he didn’t want to imagine how Henry was feeling right now.

  That’s when he heard the words he didn’t want to hear, the words that would cause the end of one of them.

  “Both of you will be fighting each other.” With those words, he walked away, acting unbothered.

  Alhen sent a stare of pure hatred his way, looking at his back for a few seconds before Father Vincent turned to look at him.

  A smile, Alhen froze; Father Vincent had sent a brief smile his way, and not the good kind of smile.

  His heartbeat started racing, and his body shook, but he was taken out of his state when he felt a hand touching his shoulder.

  “W-What do we do? I do not want to fight you,” Henry said, visibly shaking.

  “It’s all my fault… I’m sorry, Henry. I promise that no matter what happens, you will walk out of here alive,” Alhen promised.

  His friend didn’t look convinced, but he did everything in his power to appear confident in his words.

  If that would relieve some of Henry’s worries, then he would play his part perfectly.

  “Do you have a plan? If so, please tell me!” Henry asked, almost pleading.

  Before Alhen could respond, however, Father Vincent broke them apart from afar and sent Henry to the quadrilateral.

  As Henry left, his gaze remained on Alhen, who smiled warmly at him once again.

  Underneath that smile, however, countless anxious thoughts raced in his head.

  When Henry looked away, he gritted his teeth and bit his lips, his face shifting with immense worry, sorrow, and anger.

  Alhen’s burning gaze shifted to look at Father Vincent, who observed everything from afar with a disapproving look.

  He walked to him and placed a hand on Alhen’s shoulder, whispering to him.

  “Show no weakness, Alhen. Henry, that boy, is making you weak. Weakness does not survive on the outside, and it never will. I will not say this again, kill him.”

  Father Vincent didn’t wait to see his reaction; instead, he held his neck with one hand and threw him to the quadrilateral.

  Alhen felt the crushing grip on his neck and the weightlessness of being in the air, making him momentarily unable to breathe.

  He landed roughly on the ground, rolling a few times before coming to a stop.

  “Cough! Cough! Ghh!” he moaned while struggling to find some air and getting up with slow movements.

  He hadn’t received major injuries, but his arms and shoulder were scraped, making him bleed a little.

  His head spun from the dizziness, and before he knew it, Henry was by his side, checking his condition.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  “Alhen! How are you doing? Are you alright?” Henry was about to touch his body in search of injuries, but restrained himself, not wanting to be careless.

  “I-I’m fine,” Alhen said, struggling to breathe but showing Henry another smile.

  Henry frowned before his face shifted again, replaced with worry.

  “I really do not want to do this, Alhen. We should escape; there is no need for us to take part in this. When they least expect it, let us get out of here,” Henry said after making sure Alhen was fine.

  As Henry waited for his answer, Alhen took a deep breath, and then another one, repeating this three more times before feeling better.

  Looking at Henry, he knew that he was being serious, but he needed to be realistic.

  “Henry, you are the best friend I could have asked for. I, too, don’t want this to happen, but are you listening to yourself right now?” Alhen asked.

  He continued staring at Henry, who realized the absurdity of his proposal.

  His expression became more downcast by the second.

  “Hey,” Alhen placed his right hand on Henry’s left shoulder.

  “Don’t worry, I’m sure that we will figure something out. Realistically, only one of us is coming out alive, and I want it to be you,” Alhen said, and Henry looked at him with wide eyes.

  Before he could say something, however, Alhen kept talking.

  “Just come at me with everything you got and don’t worry about the consequences. I don’t deserve to live… I’m… a sinner.” Alhen said.

  His face shifted in emotional pain as he remembered what he had done in his past life.

  He waited a few seconds for his words to sink in before squeezing Henry’s shoulder and giving him a firm nod.

  “Do it,” Alhen urged.

  “Thwack!” Alhen didn’t get to say more as he was sent flying to his back by a hard punch to the face.

  Henry was fuming with anger, trembling from it.

  “What are you saying, Alhen?! Why do you talk that way? You do not deserve to die, none of us do!” Henry exclaimed.

  His yelling caught the attention of everyone present, who fell silent.

  Looks of doubt and uncertainty crossed the faces of each child present; he’s right, why should they be killing each other?

  They didn’t deserve it, but ultimately, their survival came first.

  The look of an emaciated Henry staring at him with eyes full of confusion and anger made him sick, but deep inside, he was glad.

  ‘Damn! That hurt,’ Alhen thought.

  He didn’t know how Henry could generate that much power with his thin frame, but at least he had hurt him; that had to be a good sign.

  “Henry, now is not the time to be fighting about things like this. Just accept it; I have already given up,” Alhen said.

  Henry gritted his teeth in anger, and before he could talk more, they both froze.

  A powerful pressure washed over the area, making them feel cold, as if they were in the Arctic desert, unable to move a finger.

  “You will stop at once. We will begin soon,” The powerful voice of Father Vincent rang out with full power, making everyone stop what they were doing.

  Despite his strong words, he didn’t seem mad, but calm.

  It was as if what transpired didn’t matter, and he was only giving a simple command that caused the sheep to calm down.

  Alhen stood freely, and as soon as he stood fully upright, the pressure stopped.

  He was about to open his mouth when Father Vincent gave a death look his way, shutting him up immediately.

  Henry and Alhen locked eyes and didn’t look away.

  They both wanted to say something to each other, but considering the circumstances, it was impossible; they weren’t allowed to talk.

  The men in plain white robes approached them and took them to their respective corners.

  The kids, who were already nervous, were now even more so after what had transpired.

  Alhen was subjected to the constant glare assault in his direction, which he skillfully ignored, being used to it by now.

  Now that everyone had taken their positions, women in tight dark robes entered the room carrying a metal cart full of weapons.

  These weapons included axes, swords, daggers, bows, and more.

  They wore masks of varying expressions, resembling demons.

  Some were happy, others were sad, and the last ones were angry.

  The women left the weapons in the middle of the ring before retreating.

  Without wasting a second, the robed individuals signaled for them to take a weapon.

  Alhen and Henry approached from opposite sides.

  Henry took shaky steps and looked unwilling to look forward.

  His shape contrasted with Alhen's, who walked with perfect posture and an unbothered expression revealing no thoughts whatsoever.

  They reached the cart and took a look at the weapons. All of them looked deadly, ready to kill.

  When Alhen thought that it would be him who those weapons would strike, he couldn’t help but grit his teeth and grimace from unwillingness, but he eventually let it go.

  “I don’t want to fight you, and I will definitely not kill you,” Henry whispered.

  “You will have to,” Alhen responded, not knowing what else to say.

  In a few seconds, they would be fighting to the death, making him remember all those moments shared and what would become of them after a few minutes.

  “Aghhh!” A kid screamed beside him, having his arm cut off.

  Looking all around him, he saw kids already screaming and killing each other in the other quadrilaterals.

  Heads flew and limbs splattered on the ground, leaving it dyed red.

  Shouts of agony and cries started filling the air, and both of their faces paled, looking whiter than a sheet of paper.

  The yellow-robed man became impatient and urged them to pick up their weapons.

  Alhen picked up an axe with a heavy heart, and Henry picked up a sword, gripping it tightly.

  The grip on the weapons felt odd.

  They were made for adults in mind, and Alhen noticed the second he picked up the axe, which was big and heavy for his size.

  His hand barely wrapped around it, and he struggled to hold it up.

  Alhen noticed that Henry shared the same problem, and could only hope his own death would be a quick one.

  Father Vincent saw what happened from afar, concealing the thoughts in his mind with a calculated gaze.

  The intensity of his stare reached both of them, who flinched and got into a crude fighting stance.

  The robed man placed himself in the middle of the quadrilateral before saying, “Remember the rules: kill each other or be killed,” and with a simple raise of his hand, the fight started.

  There was a delay between the start and their movements.

  Both approached the center of the ring with cautious steps, eyeing each other with their weapons held firmly in front of them.

  Alhen felt as if the axe was going to slip from his grip from how much he was sweating at that moment.

  They got closer, maintaining eye contact.

  For a brief second, Alhen saw something in Henry’s eyes that made him stop dead in his tracks: fear.

  Henry was afraid, something that wasn’t surprising due to the situation.

  A guilty expression appeared on Alhen’s face before he slowly exhaled, closing his eyes in the process.

  “Clang!” His arms lowered, and he dropped the axe to the floor, causing Henry to widen his eyes and Father Vincent to frown heavily.

  ‘I already accepted it. If I die here, then so be it. But I cannot kill him,’ Alhen thought, looking at Henry with a quiet but firm determination.

  “You cannot do this, Alhen; please fight me! I do not want to strike when you are not defending yourself," Henry said, his words falling on deaf ears.

  Alhen stood there, standing still and waiting for Henry to move.

  ‘If someone deserves to die, then it’s me. I killed my own father in my last life; what happened to you is completely different. You deserve a second chance,’ he thought.

  Alhen’s eyes narrowed, and his expression turned grim.

  “I don’t think I can do that, Henry, sorry.” Alhen simply said.

  Father Vincent couldn’t take it anymore and started approaching the ring.

  He stopped, however, once he saw that Henry had thrown his sword to the ground and punched Alhen in the face again.

  “Thwack!” Alhen’s vision flashed, and he saw tiny dots of light start appearing in his vision.

  They danced around, and the world spun until he got his bearings back.

  “Come on, fight me!” Henry yelled at him.

  That punch seemed to have knocked Alhen to his senses as he struck back with a punch of his own.

  “Smack!” Henry was sent tumbling to the floor, and based on Alhen’s expression, even he himself was surprised.

  ‘What’s happening to me? Why did I do that?’ Alhen questioned.

  His body had acted on its own.

  The thought had yet to register in his mind, and he had already struck, as if his body was detached from his mind and acted with free will.

  The ache in his hand reminded him of what he had done, and Henry stood, throwing himself at Alhen with the ferocity of a rabid dog.

  Once again, his body acted on its own, and he started exchanging punches with his only friend since arriving in this world.

  ‘No, no, stop!’ He yelled in his mind.

  There were no flashy techniques; none of them knew how to fight, throwing sloppy punches at each other that landed fiercely on their bodies.

  The screams of pain and crying around him intensified.

  Many children were dying, and either Henry or he would share their fate.

  They fought with their instincts.

  Henry held Alhen’s dirty shirt and threw him to the ground with some effort, and they wrestled without rest, taking the breath out of them.

  Henry eventually got on top of Alhen and started raining punches down on him.

  Alhen tried his best to resist and defend himself, but the strikes were relentless.

  ‘It hurts,’ he thought. Bruises started forming, and blood escaped from his nose and lips.

  In the middle of the barrage, he saw Father Vincent from the corner of his eye, who smiled at the situation, looking thrilled at the show presented to him.

  ‘What is that bastard smiling about? Is he the one causing all of this? The one who is manipulating my actions?!’ he was fuming with anger.

  The rage clouded his mind; the onslaught of attacks didn’t let him think.

  Father Vincent was mocking him; he could feel it.

  Because of that man… he would die, he wouldn’t be able to apologize to Henry for all the pain he’d caused him, he wouldn’t be able to live… to find out why he killed his father.

  ‘I will kill him. I will kill him!’ His face shifted to that of pure hatred, growing even more annoyed as he was stuck getting beaten by Henry.

  Without him realizing, he had taken hold of the first thing his hand could take hold of and swung it with all his strength towards Henry with his right hand.

  “Crunch!” The world froze, and Father Vincent smiled widely, looking joyous.

  Once Alhen realized what had happened, it was too late.

  His axe had struck Henry’s neck and was now stuck halfway.

  His expression had frozen with wide eyes and an open mouth, which overflowed with crimson blood that slowly dripped down his axe and then to his arm.

  It reached his shoulder and finally dropped to the floor.

  Henry’s eyes rolled upwards as he gagged.

  His body lost strength and ceased its movements until eventually… nothing.

  Henry fell to the ground, dead.

  Alhen crawled away with shock and clumsily stood.

  His breathing was erratic, and he felt the world spinning around him.

  “W-What happened?” He asked himself, looking around, confused.

  His gaze landed on Henry’s body on the ground, and what happened came back to him with the strength of a tsunami.

  “M-My body moved on its own. I-I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

  Tears fell to the floor, his eyes turning red as he looked at Henry’s limp body, whose eyes had lost all life in them.

  He knelt at his side and held his body, wailing like a little kid.

  Father Vincent sent him a nod of approval on the side, which made him feel nauseous.

  The sight of his dead friend, Father Vincent’s smile, the dead bodies all around him, and the blinding lights drove him insane.

  “Blarph!” Alhen emptied his stomach on the floor.

  Father Vincent closed the distance, with each step reverberating in Alhen’s ears, making the moment feel more real.

  After arriving in front of him, he placed his hand on his shoulder and praised him for a job well done.

  “You did well; remember that instinct to live when on the outside. You will need it if you want to become the strongest,” he said.

  Alhen did everything in his power not to look at the one responsible for this situation.

  He was sure that he wouldn’t be able to control himself if he caught a glimpse of his hair at this time.

  His breath came out in short bursts, and his throat burned.

  The smell coming from the bile on the floor smelled as disgusting as every vomit ever, but he didn’t process it.

  All the kids had finished.

  What was left behind could only be the description of a crime scene in some sick horror movie, but Alhen didn’t care.

  He stared at the lifeless body of Henry for a few more seconds.

  He bit the lower half of his lips until they bled and clenched his fists until his nails dug deep into his skin.

  “Alhen,” Father Vincent started talking, “The world outside is an unforgiving place. Remember that pain is your ally. Friends, relationships, they are all meant to be used. When you least expect it, they will stab you in the back, and you will forever regret giving them a chance. "

  "That is why you should always use them to your benefit. If you do this, I can assure you that you will not regret it, but if you choose not to listen to my advice…”

  Father Vincent got closer to Alhen’s left ear.

  “Be prepared to learn a harsh lesson.”

  Alhen snapped his gaze to Father Vincent’s direction and met his gaze head-on with a piercing stare.

  He allowed himself to feel the rage coursing through his body, reaching even the deepest corners, and declared with a twisted expression, “I hate you."

  He paused for a second, drawing a short but powerful breath.

  “I swear that one day, I will kill you.”

  Father Vincent started laughing lightly, placing a hand on his stomach and looking slightly towards the ceiling.

  “I am waiting for that day. I truly hope that you will not disappoint me; I want to see you at the top. And when you reach it,” he paused, “I will be waiting for you to come to me.”

  “I will kill you!” He snapped, but Father Vincent didn’t acknowledge his threat, treating it as background noise.

  Snickering and looks of hate met him as he said those words.

  Those bastards who worked for the church seemed to be enjoying his misfortune, and he hated it.

  Now that they had finished, the nuns treated their wounds before returning them to their room, but Father Vincent had other plans for Alhen.

  “Follow me,” he ordered.

  Alhen tsked before looking at his friend for what was probably going to be the last time.

  “I’m sorry, I wasn’t able to keep my promise… just like always.”

  He didn’t want to talk anymore; if he did, he was sure that he would lose it.

  It took everything in his power not to grab Henry’s sword and lunge at Father Vincent, but he knew that he would never be able to harm him as he currently stood.

  Alhen stood and followed him, his gaze feeling like it could bore a hole through his back.

  A deep sense of déjà vu invaded his senses, but now it was different.

  Henry wasn’t here, only he was, and Alhen felt alone once again.

  He found himself in Father Vincent’s office, the familiar smell of paper returning to him.

  “Sit,” the Father simply said, leaving no room for argument.

  Alhen breathed deeply to calm himself and obeyed the order, sitting and sinking into the soft chair.

  Father Vincent approached him from behind and took hold of his shoulders.

  “I have decided that you are going to start working for the church much sooner. We must not wait any longer, Alhen. Are you ready to receive the blessing of Lord Oros?” He asked, wasting no time and getting straight to the point.

  Without waiting for Alhen to speak, Father Vincent’s eyes glowed.

  The bookshelf behind him split in two, revealing a dark passageway into the underground.

  Father Vincent smiled, looking excited for what would happen next. “Come,” he said.