Treasures Await

Bhavesh talked ad infinitum with the ant, as if he was a perpetual machine that had been activated.

Nocterin's ears had started to ring when a white light flashed, the small frame of Arin appearing in the air, falling instantaneously to the ground.

"..."

Throwing the ant off his palm, Bhavesh went toward the unconscious body of Arin, his face becoming stale like a desiccated rose petal.

Nocterin too immediately reached the prince's figure, worry written all over his face.

The time when Arin had been attacked by the hooded figures, everything was in his control, and any injury Arin suffered was merely tactical, but this time he wasn't in control.

Nocterin's hands trembled, albeit slightly, as he brought a potion to the insensate Arin's lips, which had become dry as husk. As trinkets of the liquid went inside his mouth and eventually into his stomach, his hands began to shake a bit.

Finally, with a sudden jerk, he suddenly stood up.

"Nocterin? Bhavesh? Where am I?" His eyesight was still a little blurry, and he could barely see their faces.

"We are still in the vampiric trials, your highness," Nocterin replied, heaving a sigh of relief seeing him unscathed.

Arin rubbed his eyes, his vision slowly becoming clear, and the sight he saw made him extremely relieved.

From the start, everything was different from the actual game, even the trials, but thankfully this one, the final trial and also the most difficult one, was the same as the one in the game.

The vampiric ruins were a high-grade treasure site, important to the game's lore. It was due to this that the trials were so unbelievably difficult. When he had first heard of its difficulty during the game's development phase, he thought there was no way someone would actually be able to pass the trials.

But now here he was, in that very trial.

Suddenly, the dingy room they were in started to feel a bit suffocating... warmer, to be exact.

Arin's face turned grave; the final trial had begun.

Nocterin and Bhavesh appeared extremely tense as they observed the room becoming exponentially hotter. As high-grade elites, even such high temperatures mattered not to them, but the same couldn't be said for Arin.

Their faces turned pale as they thought, desperately, of ways—ways to save the prince. While their minds worked tirelessly conjuring some tactic to save Arin, the person in question was busy attempting to devise methods to kill himself.

As Arin looked gravely around everywhere, he saw Nocterin's scythe lying on the ground. He immediately picked it up.

The scythe's owner was baffled upon seeing this, uncertain of the prince's intentions. But when he saw Arin bringing the scythe to his neck, the realization dawned on him.

His figure turned into a breeze as he snatched the weapon away, so instantaneously that it felt like he had teleported.

"Arin, please don't worry. We will definitely find a way to survive. Please don't give up on your life... please," Nocterin replied, trying to be as supportive as possible, his formality had disappeared though his voice still sounded quite aloof.

Nocterin thought that the prince was scared of the pain he would have to suffer from burning alive and wanted to kill himself to avoid that level of torment.

"..."

Arin had no suicidal tendencies and was trying to clear the trial. He could understand his reaction though; anyone would think that given the circumstances.

"Nocterin, I am not trying to commit suicide. Trust me," saying so, he put his hands on the scythe.

Nocterin was hesitant, but seeing the prince's suddenly stern expression, he couldn't refute and allowed him to retrieve the weapon.

Arin pressed the cold, serrated edge of the scythe into his skin. But as he did so, he was reminded of the pain he felt while dying. His hands faltered, droplets of liquid cascading down his forehead.

Although he had experienced it all throughout his previous life, it wasn't so easy to endure when the pain was afflicted by himself.

He seemed to be in a dilemma and a strange sense of hurry, as if there was very little time left. He needed to—had to be killed before the heat killed him—no matter how much pain it may lead to.

"Nocterin, slash the blade at my neck," said Arin with such seriousness that an oblivious onlooker would have become discombobulated at the sight. Nocterin was confused and hesitant.

"Do it," Arin commanded authoritatively, for the first time. His eyes displayed an unprecedented firmness and determination.

Nocterin had no choice but to aim the scythe at Arin's neck. His hands quivered as he slashed at the neck, sprays of crimson spraying toward him, Arin's eyes displaying a look of extreme pain before turning lifeless as the decapitated head of the person he was meant to protect fell to the ground.

For a second, he felt eternal guilt and repulsion toward himself. The thought that he may have caused the death of the person whose safety Lord Mikhael had entrusted to him burdened his soul; he felt suffocated inside.

Bhavesh, who stood at the side, seemed to have become a ghost. His face had become extremely pained, eyes hiding pain, sadness, and... the guilt of not questioning the prince's request. He should have not allowed Nocterin to slash the scythe at Arin.

When the two saw the fallen head disappear and veins, arteries, bones, and eventually the muscles and skin growing out on Arin's decapitated body, Nocterin's face softened with immense relief. Arin was back... again. Bhavesh looked even more overwhelmed, perspiring in relief as the suffocating compunction on his soul lifted.

Before his two baffled subordinates could inquire about anything, he said to them, "Kill yourselves, quick."

Despite his ridiculous request, Nocterin beheaded himself without saying a thing. The risk of life ending paled in comparison to the prince's request for some reason.

Bhavesh, on the other hand, just closed his eyes and suddenly shattered to pieces; it was a gory sight. He had deep faith in Arin; from the very beginning, he was the subordinate the original Arin was the closest to.

After just minutes, both of their bodies had regenerated.

Bhavesh had an inquisitive look on his face as he noticed the heat had disappeared. Unable to contain himself anymore, he asked, "How did we come back from the dead? And why did the heat disappear?"

As Bhavesh inquired of the anomaly, one side of the room opened completely, blinding light shining out of it. It was the entry to the vampiric ruins, signifying that they had cleared the trials.

Arin explained while going toward the ruins, "In the ancient era, we humans devised a method to suppress the unbelievably powerful vampires, something infamously known as the eternal bringer of torment. It was a terrifying contraption, one which, when bound to a target, would burn them to a crisp only for them to be revived and go through that same torment in an indefinite cycle." His voice had a certain weight to it, perhaps the influence of the dark history it carried.

As Bhavesh heard the tale, a solemn look emerged on his face. Though he was from a race which abhorred vampires, hearing the atrocities still sent a shiver down his spine. It was terrifying to ponder about—so terrifying that a single thought would drench one in sweat.

Nocterin, on the other hand, seemed to be already aware of the torments the ancient humans had afflicted on their own creation, the very people that once used to be exactly like them—ones they had turned to vampires.

"There was only one way to escape from this ruthless cycle—to commit suicide before the heat could kill them even once," Nocterin and Bhavesh's faces had a look of understanding.

"The reason being that the contraption worked by establishing two marks on the target, one that would make them revive and the other that signaled the contraption to release heat onto them. While the revival mark would be afflicted automatically, the heat mark traveled through flames, so if one could kill himself before any flame caught onto him, that mark would never be established, but he would still revive, thus breaking free from the cycle," Arin added, clearing everything.

"So, the revival mark is still on us?" asked the spirit.

"Yes, but it only works in a 5-meter radius of the contraption. Plus, if we stay out of its range for a day or more, the mark would disappear," Arin's voice was like a wet blanket on the spirit's excitement of having become immortal