Test of Endurance

Pain.

It swallowed her whole.

Ariel's body trembled, slick with oil, her skin gleaming under the dim, hellish light. The air was thick with the scent of burning incense, but beneath it was the unmistakable stench of suffering. The Saya stood before her, their dark robes flowing like liquid shadows, their masked faces expressionless.

And the Devil?

He sat on his throne, watching.

A smirk curled at his lips, his golden eyes reflecting the flickering flames around them. He did not move, did not blink, did not offer her a single ounce of mercy.

Ariel's chest rose and fell rapidly, her breath shaky as she clenched her fists at her sides. The oil made her skin slippery, but she had no doubt it was meant for more than just discomfort. The Saya had promised her pain. Unimaginable pain. And now—

They would deliver.

The first lash came swift and sharp.

Ariel gasped. Fire ripped through her spine, the force of it knocking her forward onto her knees. A second strike followed before she could brace herself, then a third—each one crueler than the last.

The Saya moved in sync, striking with merciless precision. The oil on her skin made the wounds burn, amplifying the agony tenfold. Ariel's breath hitched as the pain surged through her nerves, blinding, searing.

She bit down on her lip until she tasted blood.

She would not scream.

She would not break.

Another lash.

Then another.

Ariel's arms shook as she pressed her palms into the cold ground, struggling to stay upright. The pain clawed at her, tearing into flesh, but the worst part—

He was still watching.

Unmoved. Amused.

Her husband. The Devil.

Why? Why was he just sitting there?

Did he feel nothing? Not even the slightest hint of concern?

Then why did he take her? Why claim her as his wife if he had no intention of protecting her?

The Saya spoke, their voices a chilling whisper. "Your endurance will determine your worth."

Ariel swallowed hard, her throat raw.

She had no idea how much time had passed. Her body screamed in protest, her skin raw and slick with sweat and oil. Her muscles twitched, spasming from the relentless punishment, but still—she did not scream.

But then—

Kyla spoke.

"You're enjoying this too much," her voice purred, teasing yet laced with something deeper.

Ariel's head snapped up, her vision blurred with pain and exhaustion, but she saw her.

Kyla.

Tall, beautiful, dressed in black silks that draped over her curves like shadows. Her silver hair cascaded down her back, untouched by time. But it was the way she stood beside the Devil—so close, so familiar—that sent a fresh wave of agony through Ariel.

Kyla turned to him, her lips curving. "Are you really going to let her break like this?"

The Devil chuckled. A deep, rich sound that sent shivers down Ariel's spine. "If she breaks, she was never meant to stand beside me."

Ariel's blood ran cold.

Kyla's gaze flickered to her, something unreadable in her violet eyes. "I almost feel bad for her."

The words twisted inside Ariel, cutting sharper than the lashes. The way they spoke, the way they looked at each other—it was as if she was an outsider in her own marriage.

Like Kyla belonged beside him. Like she understood something Ariel never could.

A fresh wave of pain struck, but this time, it wasn't from the Saya.

It was the realization—she might be nothing to him.

But she wouldn't let them win.

With every last ounce of strength she had, Ariel pushed herself up.

Her legs wobbled. Blood dripped from her wounds, staining the ground beneath her feet. But she stood. She lifted her chin, swallowing the sob that threatened to escape.

She would not break.

The room fell into silence.

Then, Kyla smirked. "Hmm… Maybe she's not as weak as I thought."

Ariel's nails dug into her palms.

She hated her.

She hated all of them.

But most of all—she hated the Devil for making her feel like this.

The Saya stepped forward, their cold fingers pressing against her raw skin. "You have endured."

But the test wasn't over.

Ariel barely had time to process their words before something cold and sharp was pressed into her hand.

A dagger.

She looked up, dazed, as the Saya gestured to the floor.

And for the first time, she saw it.

A bound figure.

A prisoner.

His face was hidden by a hood, but his body trembled—weak, broken. He had been beaten, tortured, left on the verge of death.

The Saya's voice was eerily calm. "To complete the test… you must end him."

Ariel's breath caught.

Her fingers tightened around the dagger.

She turned to look at the Devil—hoping, foolishly, for something. A sign. A hint. Anything that told her she didn't have to do this.

But he only smirked.

And Kyla?

She laughed.