Vermyros's Lair, the final boss of the Sixth Trial Realm.
The place has fallen into a heavy silence after the final explosion, leaving only scattered flesh and shattered scales across the cavern floor, still leaking toxic residue into the air.
The portal now glows blue in the distance, its rippling surface steady and inviting, a stark contrast to the ruin left behind after four relentless days of battle.
Four figures lie scattered across the battlefield, unmoving and unresponsive, their bodies pushed far beyond what they can endure even after victory has already been secured.
After more than ten years trapped inside Malverra, after surviving six Trial Realms, they have finally brought down the final boss of the Sixth Trial. Freedom stands within reach. Yet none of them can claim it.
A thick green haze spreads slowly through the cavern, clinging to the air and seeping into every breath, carrying the lingering Nethertoxin that continues to erode their bodies from within.
***
[Warning!]
[You are under continuous Nethertoxin exposure]
-HP is decreasing continuously
-Estimated time to death: less than five seconds
***
Arven's eyes force themselves open as the system drags him back from the edge of unconsciousness, his vision flickering while pain spreads through his chest with every breath he takes.
His gaze locks onto the portal for a moment before shifting toward his teammates, and the realization settles in without needing to be spoken.
This is not over. They have to go through the portal and move to the next trial realm.
Arven forces himself to stand despite the resistance from his own body, then stumbles toward Lyren, who lies closest, reaching down and shaking him with growing urgency.
"Lyren! Wake up."
Lyren does not respond, his body completely limp, forcing Arven to exhale sharply before dragging him across the ground toward the portal.
Each step feels heavier than the last, his strength draining faster than he can compensate, yet he continues moving until he reaches the portal and throws Lyren through without hesitation.
"Wait for me on the other side."
The surface ripples once, and Lyren disappears.
Arven turns immediately, pushing himself forward again as he heads toward Brakka, whose larger frame makes the effort even more difficult.
Dragging him requires everything Arven has left, his steps unsteady as the poison continues to spread, yet he refuses to stop until he reaches the portal once more and forces Brakka through.
He staggers backward afterward, his vision dimming further as he struggles to remain conscious, but he knows there is still one more.
Aeris lies farther away, near the spot where her banner still stands, and the distance between them feels longer than it should as Arven forces himself to move again.
His legs weaken before he reaches her, nearly giving out as he drops to one knee, but he catches himself and continues forward until he can finally reach her side.
"Aeris…"
He pats her cheek, and after a brief delay, her eyes flicker open just enough to focus.
"…Arven…?"
Her gaze shifts past him, taking in the shattered remains of the dragon and the toxic haze filling the cavern, and the question forms weakly on her lips.
"…You killed it?"
"Forget that," Arven replies quickly, tightening his grip on her arm as urgency replaces everything else. "The place is filled with Nethertoxin. We need to move now."
She tries to stand with his help, her body unsteady as she leans heavily against him, and together they begin to move toward the portal.
But they only manage a few steps before Aeris's strength gives out completely, her body going limp as she collapses and drags Arven down with her.
"No, Aeris…"
They hit the ground hard, and for a moment, neither of them moves as the system continues its relentless warning inside Arven's fading awareness.
His vision darkens further as he forces himself up again, shaking her with what little strength remains while desperation begins to replace control.
"Aeris… please… just stand… I can't drag you like this."
Her eyes open one last time, barely conscious, and her voice comes out faint and distant.
"…Then go… just… leave me…"
Arven freezes at the words, his grip tightening instinctively as he shakes his head.
"No… I can't leave you here. None of us can clear this trial without you."
But she does not respond again. Her body goes completely still.
"Aeris… please… wake up."
She is still breathing, but there is no response from her.
Arven remains there for a moment, breathing unevenly as the weight of everything they have endured presses down on him all at once.
"Ten years…"
The words come out low and strained as he slams his fist into the ground, frustration and desperation bleeding into the motion.
"Ten years in this fucking hell…"
"Is this… how it ends?"
It takes them more than ten years to clear six trials, only one left. The portal to the sixth trial realm stands right in front of him, close enough to reach, yet impossibly far in his current state.
Arven exhales slowly, forcing himself to move again as he lifts Aeris one last time and positions her toward the portal.
"Sorry, Aeris… They need you more than I do."
With the last of his strength, he pushes her forward. Her body stumbles, carried by momentum alone, until she falls into the portal and disappears into the blue light.
Arven collapses immediately after, his body refusing to respond as the system continues its final warning.
"…Sorry… for being a burden."
"I should've listened to you back then, when we were choosing my passive skills."
"…Too stubborn to listen."
His voice barely escapes as his vision fades completely.
And then a voice appears.
[Hohoho, look at you now, Mr. Loser No.1. Look.]
The darkness does not feel empty anymore, because something is there with him, something that does not belong to the battlefield he just left behind.
Arven frowns slightly, even as his body no longer responds.
"…Still calling me with that name, huh… Rytir?"
[Your HP has almost hit 0. Soon, you will die, and we will drag you back to the real world.]
The voice no longer sounds like a system prompt, because there is a tone behind it now, something amused, something watching.
[What an irony. You fall right here, just before reaching the portal, after defeating the Great Vermyros.]
Arven lets out a weak breath that barely forms into a laugh.
"Yeah… real funny…"
[I must say, I am impressed. You and your party are the first to reach this Sixth Trial, and you are the first to defeat my beloved Vermyros.]
[But of course, that makes sense. You are The Loser No. 1, the very first inmate to enter this simulation world I created.]
"…Cut it out…"
His voice is faint, but the irritation still carries through.
"I told you… stop calling me that name…"
[So, what will it be?]
The voice lingers for a moment, as if enjoying the pause before continuing.
[A. Return to the real world and accept the death penalty.]
[B. Die here as a warrior who defeated Vermyros, while your real body enters a Persistent Vegetative State.]
Arven exhales slowly, even as the darkness thickens around him.
"…How nice of you, still offering me choices."
[C. Return to the first stage where you started this trial, under one condition.]
"…You're kidding."
For the first time, Arven's expression shifts.
"…You really expect me to go through all that again?"
His voice grows slightly sharper, frustration pushing through the fading strength.
"I've been stuck in this hell you created for ten years… ten damn years."
"And now you're telling me to start over?"
[I am merely offering you a choice.]
[I will not deny that this world you call hell is harsh, but have you ever considered what awaits you after death? Do you really think God will show you mercy after all the crimes you've committed?]
Arven lets out a quiet scoff. "…Don't start talking about God now."
[Hey, hey… second chances do not come often.]
[Think carefully. Regret tends to follow those who refuse them.]
The voice pauses again, waiting.
[So?]
Arven closes his eyes, or at least, he tries to. The darkness feels heavier now as he's considering his options.
"…You really enjoy this, don't you…"
[I do.]
Arven exhales one last time.
"…Ten years wasn't enough, huh…"
"…Fine."
"…Then I'll use all of it."
"Every mistake… every build… every failure…"
"…I won't waste it again."
His voice weakens, but the intent behind it does not.
"But listen carefully…"
"If I ever make it out of this place alive…"
"You're the first one I'm coming after."
A faint pause follows, and then…
[How unfortunate.]
[I am afraid this will be our last conversation.]
[Still, I wish you the best.]
Arven's brow tightens slightly.
"…Wait."
"You said there was a condition."
No answer comes. The presence fades and silence returns.
Darkness consumes everything.
And then…
***
[Alert!]
[Your HP has reached 0, and you will be transferred back to the initial stage according to the offer that has been given to you]
As for the condition, this is the last notification you will receive
***