The bodies of Derek's team lay scattered across blood-soaked ground.
Their life energy had been absorbed, fueling Dante's growing strength.
His three shadow puppets stood silent. Violet eyes fixed forward like unmoving sentinels. A testament to his complete victory.
His team, the ones still alive, waited behind him. Their faces mixed grief for fallen friends with cold respect for a leader who scared them now.
He seemed more monster than human.
And at his feet, Derek knelt. The brutal leader who had acted so tough was now just a beaten man. Gasping for air, face pale with terror.
The crimson glow of his artifact had faded, leaving him small and weak.
He looked up at Dante. His cocky smile gone, replaced by desperate pleading.
"Please," he rasped. "Dante... please, don't kill me."
"I was wrong. I messed up, okay? We can work together. I can join you. I'll follow your orders. I swear."
Dante stared down at him. His face unchanged. He felt nothing. No pity, no satisfaction, not even anger.
Derek was just a problem to solve. A loose end to tie up.
His begging was empty noise. An insect's last buzzing before being crushed.
"Serve me?" Dante said. His voice low and calm in a dangerous way. "You already have. You gathered a team of killers, trained them well, and handed them right to me."
"You worked great as a tool. But you're broken now. And I don't keep broken tools."
His team shifted behind him. He could sense their need for vengeance. Thick and urgent in the air.
They wanted Derek dead. They wanted him to suffer for Neil and Juno.
Derek's eyes went wide with pure terror when he saw the finality in Dante's expression.
He scrambled backward, hands and feet pushing against dirt in mindless panic.
"No, wait! Stop!" he shouted. All pride abandoned. "I have something you need! Information! A real secret!"
Dante paused. Let Derek keep talking.
It was amusing to watch.
"My team... we asked the Goddess questions too!" Derek rushed out. Words spilling fast and messy. "We asked what happens after we complete the trial! I know about the reward!"
Dante let out a short, mocking breath.
'He thinks this will save him? Pathetic.'
"I know all that," he said. His tone flat. "Six people survive. Six kingdoms claim them. Six new lives as tools or toys for whoever rules those places. Your life isn't worth repeating what I already figured out."
"No, that's not it!" Derek pushed harder. Shaking his head frantically. "You know the outcome, but not the bonus! You know she gives a blessing, right?"
Dante's hand froze.
A blessing. That was new.
"Explain."
Derek caught the spark of interest and clung to it like a drowning man to driftwood.
"The first place winner!" he said, breathing hard. "The first person to complete the trial. The first to kill the Bone Dragon and claim the Hero's Mark! The one who steps through the Gate first!"
He paused for emphasis.
"The Goddess grants them a wish! Anything they want!"
Everything around them seemed to stop.
The forest sounds, the faint crackle of dying fires, the heavy breathing from his team. It all faded to a low hum.
A wish.
Not a skill. Not an artifact. Not a place in some kingdom.
A real wish. The chance to rewrite rules. Fix mistakes. Reach for something beyond this brutal system.
'Anything I want.'
The implications hit him like a wave. This changed everything.
"A wish?" Dante repeated. The word strange on his tongue.
"Yes! Whatever you choose!" Derek nodded frantically. "She mentioned limits—you can't become a god or immortal, no extra wishes, nothing that breaks her fundamental rules."
"You can't wish yourself home either... but everything else! Dante, think about it! You could ask for absolute power! Or bring back one of your dead friends!"
Behind him, someone gasped. Erica.
'The fool. He's planting hope where it could cause problems later.'
But the core idea...
Killing Derek would end this fight cleanly. Would give his grieving team a sense of justice.
But how did that compare? Against the chance to reshape his entire future.
The game had changed. It wasn't just about surviving to be one of six anymore. Scraping by in this death match.
Now it was about being first. Being the one who mattered most. The true winner.
The rest, even the other five survivors, would be second place.
Dante slowly unclenched his fist. The immediate threat passed.
Derek exhaled shakily. His body trembling with relief as he sobbed.
'He thinks he made it. Thinks he traded information for life.'
"Thank you," Derek said weakly. Tears streaming down his face. "Thank you, Dante. I owe you. I'll do whatever you say. I'll—"
"I never said I'd let you live," Dante interrupted. His voice flat and cold. Empty.
The hope in Derek's eyes shattered. Replaced by incomprehension.
"What? But... the secret! I told you! You said you'd—"
"I said no such thing," Dante replied. Standing and looking down like examining a failed experiment. "The information was useful. I appreciate you sharing it."
"But you as a person... you're worthless to me now. You're a risk. A potential problem. And I don't leave problems alive."
Derek's mouth opened to scream, plead, or curse. But nothing came.
He was frozen by the raw shock of the betrayal.
'Did he really think I'd spare him? How naive.'
Dante tilted his head slightly. His gaze landed on the silent shadow puppet. The one that used to be the Wardcraft user. The boy who had protected Derek without question.
"You do it," he ordered. No emotion in his voice. "Kill him."
The shadow moved smoothly. Silently.
Derek watched in absolute horror as the form of his former teammate, his friend, raised its ghostly hand.
It was fitting in a dark way. He wouldn't die by his rival's hand.
He'd be finished by the shadow of the loyalty he himself had betrayed.
"No... please..." Derek whispered. "Not like this..."
Shnk.
The shadow's hand drove into Derek's chest.
He made one last choked sound. His eyes locked on Dante's, showing nothing but broken trust.
Then his eyes dulled and he collapsed into the dirt. His final secret traded for a death Dante had planned all along.
Silence fell over the clearing.
The team stood motionless. Processing what they'd just witnessed.
Not just Derek's death. But the cold, calculated way Dante had extracted information before disposing of him.
Masha's face had gone pale. Jin looked away.
Even Eric, who had wanted Derek dead, seemed disturbed.
'Good,' Dante thought. 'Let them see what happens to those who cross me. Let them understand the cost of betrayal.'
He turned to face them. His expression calm. Almost gentle.
"Derek gave us something valuable before he died," he said quietly. "A reason to push harder. To fight smarter."
"The Goddess grants a wish to whoever finishes first. That means we don't just need to survive."
He paused. Let the words sink in.
"We need to win."
The team nodded slowly. Still unsettled, but understanding.
They didn't question him. Didn't protest his methods.
They were learning. Fear bred obedience. And obedience bred survival.
Dante looked down at Derek's corpse one last time.
'Thank you for the gift, Derek. The information. The team. The lesson.'
'You were useful until the very end, Oh wait you may be more useful than that too.'
He extended his hand toward the body. Black threads emerged. This time it didn't faded it moved slowly.
Dante desperately wanted him in his collection.