The Principle of Bleedshed .2

As the torches along the walls flickered erratically, Riven's eyes widened, irritation flashing across his face as each flame extinguished one by one.

"Damn it!" he snarled, his mana surge sputtering to a sudden halt as the room plunged into darkness. His gaze shot back to Dante, still pinned beneath his boot, but a flicker of strategy sparked in his mind. He shifted his attention to Stiles, preparing to finish them all off.

But his movements were no longer the blur they had been—his rage and exertion were taking their toll. In that moment of hesitation, SteelArm seized the opportunity.

[Titan's Stride] activated, the ground cracked beneath his steps, shockwaves rippling outward as he closed the distance to Riven. With a roar, he wrapped his massive arms around Riven's torso, lifting him clean off the ground before slamming him into the stone floor with earth-shattering force.

Riven barely had time to react before SteelArm's fist came down with another bone-crushing [Colossal Blow], the impact sending tremors through the entire room.

Stiles, despite the blood still trickling from his lips, summoned his last reserves of strength. Activating [Sword's Will] and [Heavenly Descent], his twin blades shimmered with a radiant blue glow as he launched himself into the air. With a powerful lunge, he came crashing down, slicing clean through Riven's leg with a single, precise cut.

SteelArm stepped back, giving Stiles the room he needed, watching as Stiles landed and stumbled, his body near its breaking point. But Stiles wasn't done yet—he dropped his blades momentarily, catching himself on all fours as he gasped for air.

SteelArm didn't hesitate—he surged forward with another devastating [Colossal Blow], this time obliterating Riven's remaining leg. The force of the punch was so immense that it severed the limb entirely, leaving Riven writhing, blood pooling beneath him as he choked on his own screams.

Meanwhile, Dante struggled to rise, his body screaming in protest. Blood bubbled up from his mouth as he gasped, eyes fluttering with pain.

Stiles forced himself to his feet and limped to Dante's side, offering a hand. "Come on, I'll help you up," he murmured, slipping Dante's arm over his shoulders and bearing his weight. "I have something to tell you." 

Dante's eyes were glazed with pain, but he managed a weak nod. "W-what… is it, Stiles?" he rasped, clutching his side.

"I've got about three minutes left," Stiles admitted, voice tight with a bitter smile. "After that… it's over for me. [Crimson Limit] downside is that it won't let me walk away from this." He paused, guiding Dante to lean against the wall near the doorway. "Promise me… get SteelArm out of here. I need to know you two made it out."

Dante's gaze faltered, a tear mingling with the blood on his cheek. "Y-yeah… it's the least I can do, man."

Stiles nodded, a tear slipping down his own face as he turned back to the fray. He sprinted back, retrieving his blades from the floor, his heart heavy but his resolve ironclad.

SteelArm had been pounding Riven into the stone, each blow a testament to his wrath and desperation. But as Stiles returned, he stepped back, allowing Stiles the final act.

"SteelArm…" Stiles called, his voice steady.

"What is it?" SteelArm asked, his breath ragged as he glanced down at his friend.

"Take Dante and go. Make sure he lives—make sure you both get out of here alive."

"What about Kiera? Is she—?"

"She's gone," Stiles interrupted, his voice cracking. "Her wounds were too severe."

SteelArm's fists clenched, inner turmoil flashing across his face before he nodded. "What about you?"

"I'll be fine. I just need to make sure this bastard is dead," Stiles said, his eyes hardening and refusing to look up towards SteelArm. "If I'm right, the door should open now that the flames are out. Go. I'll catch up soon."

Trusting in his comrade, SteelArm's skills began to fade, his form returning to its normal state. He hurried to Dante's side, helping him to his feet.

"Stiles said he'll meet us after this… he's got to finish it," SteelArm murmured, a rare, hopeful smile crossing his face as he led Dante out, the doors creaking shut behind them.

As the silence settled, Stiles stood alone amidst the carnage. Tears finally fell freely down his face, glistening in the dim light.

"I'm sorry for lying to you… friend. The last thing I want is for you to see my death."

He glanced at the internal clock ticking down inside him—two minutes and thirty seconds left.

As the doors sealed shut, two flames flickered back to life. Riven let out a slow breath as mana began threading together, closing the wounds on his legs. He forced himself upright, his expression unreadable as he locked eyes with Stiles.

No words were needed. Both knew the end was near.

"Damn humans… always figuring shit out at the last possible second," Riven muttered, exhaling sharply. His once-burning eyes dimmed to a light brown.

Stiles tightened his grip on his blades, his body trembling from exhaustion. "Maybe you're right about some of us… We've stolen, we've destroyed—but not all of us are like that. Some of us fight to protect, to save, not to take."

Riven scoffed, his lips curling into a half-smile. "Like hell that's true. You destroy. You kill. You steal land that was never yours."

Stiles furrowed his brows. "What do you mean by that?"

Riven chuckled weakly. "I'll tell you a story… Maybe then you'll understand why I despise your kind."

His gaze drifted to the flickering flames, his voice steady despite the blood pooling beneath him.

"The year was 200. Back then, I was human, just like you. My tribe lived in peace—until a group called 'The Principles' came. They raided our home, slaughtering anyone who didn't have mana. Only four of us survived… because we had it."

Stiles remained silent, his heartbeat pounding in his ears.

"We were taken to a temple called… '???'"

For a brief moment, Riven's voice distorted, the name of the place twisting into something incomprehensible. Stiles' eyes narrowed. "What was that?"

"There, we were forced to learn different 'Principles'—each one tied to a different power. They made me learn the 'Principle of Bloodshed.' I didn't care what it was. All I wanted was revenge." His hands clenched into weak fists. "It took me four years to master it. And the day I was finally ready to strike back… the three survivors—my so-called friends—betrayed me. They killed me before I could even lift my blade."

He let out a bitter laugh, blood dripping from his lips. "Seven years ago, I woke up in this hell. Same body, same memories… nothing had changed. But for some reason, just a week or so ago, these flames lit up again, and my strength… it grew."

Riven paused, taking a ragged breath before continuing. "Every human I ever trusted betrayed me for power. Your kind slaughtered my family, stole our land, erased my people from existence. Humans are a plague that needs to be wiped out."

Stiles inhaled sharply, his fingers tightening around his hilt. "I won't argue with you on what humans have done. But… you were once human yourself?"

"A long time ago, kid. A lifetime ago." Riven's voice was quieter now, his mana flickering with the dying flames.

Another torch sputtered out, and his body wavered. "Well? You stayed behind to finish me, didn't you? Just get it over with. I've already lost."

Stiles glanced at the countdown in his mind. One minute left.

"There's no point," he murmured. "I'll be dead in a minute, and you won't last much longer."

Riven snorted. "So that's how it ends? Both of us just… waiting to die?" He shook his head. "Hell, I thought my last fight would be glorious—clashing blades until the bitter end, not sitting here telling stories like some old man with a cane."

His gaze shifted to his legs. The mana threads keeping him from bleeding out were unraveling, his strength failing.

"…Out of all the humans I've fought, I'll admit—you struggled the hardest. Not for yourself, but for your allies."

Riven let out a slow breath as the last torch wavered. His voice was barely a whisper now.

"You might've been a worthy warrior… in another life."

Stiles' eyes widened as the pieces finally fell into place. "You said a week ago, right?"

Riven raised a brow. "Yeah, about a week or so ago, the flames lit. Why?"

Stiles took a slow breath, his mind racing. "Around that same time… we found a girl in a temple in a city called Stern. I doubt you know it, but when we got there, the entire temple had been reduced to rubble—completely annihilated. Looked like a damn star had fallen on it. And yet, out of everyone inside… she was the only one left. Not a single scratch on her." He narrowed his eyes. "Could there be a connection?"

For a brief moment, Riven's expression shifted—his eyes widening before quickly returning to their usual cold stare. "Well, shit." He exhaled sharply. "If there is a connection… then watch your back. If I was revived, then the bastards who betrayed me might be out there too." His voice dropped, a bitter chuckle escaping his lips. "Not that it matters. We're both about to die here anyway."

A heavy silence settled between them before Riven finally spoke again, almost reluctantly. "... Kid, what's your name?"

"Stiles Vorn."

Riven stared at him, his face unreadable. "If I help you live… will you swear to kill the ones who betrayed me? To uncover whatever the hell that connection is?"

Stiles let out a tired scoff. "Making a deal with a dying monster wasn't exactly on my to-do list." He checked his timer—thirty seconds left. His body was at its limit.

Riven smirked. "Tough shit. It's the only deal on the table."

Stiles exhaled. "... What exactly are you offering?"

"A Principle Transfer." Riven's voice was steady, but there was something ominous in the way he said it. "It'll be painful as hell, but you'll survive… and you'll inherit the Principle of Bloodshed. I don't know if any other Principle allows this, but mine does."

"You'd just… give me your power?" Stiles frowned. "All for a promise I might not even keep?"

Riven gave a bitter laugh, his body slumping slightly as the last flame on the wall flickered. "I don't give a damn about your promise honestly, kid. But if you don't take this power, those bastards will outlive you and everyone else by a long shot. And I want them dead more than anything. They will also probably find a way to escape this realm or whatever you humans call it and cause a mass spread genocide If they betrayed me just for power. What will they do now with enhanced abilities?" 

Riven paused for a moment before saying something that rang into the mind of Stiles before he stared at Riven for a long moment as the room came to a silence and his thoughts ran.