Chapter 69: Consequences

For the first time, one of those creatures with moving sigils on its face moved, and Lucrezia darted her gaze towards them.

The woman was different from the rest, set apart by an undeniable apathy that clung to her like a second skin. Her shoulder-length hair framed sharp, deliberate features, while her hollow eyes seemed fixed on something far beyond the present.

She wore an armor-like garment fashioned from thick, overlapping scales, resembling the bark of ancient trees. It covered her chest with rigid precision, following the contours of her body even as she remained seated and still. Beneath its open lining, her pale skin was exposed, etched with living sigils that shifted and crawled. They were darker, more aggressive, and far more unsettling than those borne by the others; marks that suggested not only power, but something deeply unspoken.

Her stillness was not calm but deliberate, the kind that made the air around her feel heavier. Lucrezia has never seen a creature like that and doubts these were mortals.

“Father, we need to do something,” The silver-haired broke the silence after she concluded, turning to the Nameless King who’d not moved an inch.

Even without the amusement in those eyes, there was that aura of a cold tyrant in assessment. And when he spoke, it was no less devoid of warmth, “He chose it upon himself,”

“He passed the first phase. Surely that should mean something,” The silver-haired countered, and oddly, that made her feel… relieved.

Vaeron’s groan resonated through the amphitheater, and her gaze veered sharpl towards him. His condition had gotten even worse, and her heart dropped into her stomach.

“It means consequences, Rheonara. By rejecting all three, he’s paying all costs,”

Costs?

It made sense now. Lucrezia wanted to breathe, but all of a sudden, her nose felt constricted, and the chill of the weather froze her to the bones.

Suddenly, facing the consequences became worse than witnessing the deadly combat earlier. Lucrezia knew this was far from physical pain. More than once, her breath hitched at the vibration from the obsidian floor and the strained groan emanating after.

“But he’s still a Sin,” Rhenora argued in response to the Nameless King. “He’s still one of us, even if he doesn’t realize it yet. You cannot cast him aside so easily,” She said. “Whatever path he has chosen, whatever truths he has denied, they do not erase what lies at his core. There is obviously power in him, and to let it be crushed now… it would be a mistake none of us could undo.” Her voice wavered slightly, betraying the storm of frustration and power beneath her calm facade. Feigning impassiveness, she searched each faces and continued, “Even if he falters, even if he suffers, he belongs to this world and to us still. To abandon him now would be… unforgivable,”

“He has rejected us,” Another one of the creatures finally said with a cold voice that caused her heart to throb. “He has chosen his own path and we must respect his choice,”

“But we cannot just let him suffer,” Rheonara tried to sound convincing, something Lucrezia never imagined a god to do. “He is one of us,” Her words crept over Lucrezia like ice on a burning skin, and her legs wobbled, but she stopped herself before the woman beside her would notice.

“He chose this path,” The Nameless King reminded, now staring at her with a look of finality. “He rejected truth, and now, he will face the consequences.”

Lucrezia looked away before she was caught staring, eyes returning to the arena. Vaeron was on his knees, one hand braced against the ground as if standing were no longer an option. Even so, he held himself together, with a straightened spine, and his head lifted just enough to keep whatever dignity he had left.

His face remained unreadable, but the pain was evident in the tight set of his jaw and in the slow, measured way his breath came, as each one cost him something.

She wanted to turn away then, because watching felt like an intrusion, and because something about seeing him like that made her chest ache in a way she didn’t know how to name.

“Does he have all it takes?” She caught a feminine voice in the midst of other voices, and her gaze tore from the arena towards the tier. Her pulse spiked. W-What?

“What do you think?” Another voice slipped in, and her eyes widened.

She turned slowly to the woman beside her in confusion. “Did you… just ask something?” she said, keeping her voice low and uncertain.

The woman blinked, taken aback. “Ask?” She glanced toward the arena, then back at Lucrezia. “No. I was watching the trial,”

Lucrezia’s breath faltered. She nodded once, too quickly, and looked away before the woman could study her expression any longer, but the voice, however did not fade. Shaking off the unsettling sensation, Lucrezia forced herself to turn her attention back to the arena.

Vaeron’s form drew her eyes immediately. He seemed smaller somehow, more fragile, as the trial dragged on. Each movement he made looked heavier, slower, as if the weight of the challenge pressed against him in ways that weren’t purely physical, which she didn’t doubt.

His breath came in sharp, uneven bursts, and the faint tremor in his limbs made her chest tighten.

How long was he going to endure this? The thought terrified her more than any answers could be. Time passed, and with it, the strain etched deeper into his posture.

Even from where she stood, Lucrezia could feel the crushing inevitability of the trial settling over him like a shadow and her unease turned into a gnawing dread. Something about this moment, about the trial itself, felt far larger and far darker than anything she had anticipated. Or so she thought.

“…after rejecting all truth, including his sin, I doubt,” Another voice followed, and her breath caught.

Her eyes traveled back to tier, drawn by the voice coming from nowhere and everywhere at the same time, breaking her attention from the arena.

W-What was that?

“He has already answered,” Her head began to throb from another voice that did not come from any direction yet it spoke with a certainty that made her stomach drop. The sound pressed against the inside of her skull, reverberating through bone and memory alike.

She scanned the tiers again, sharper now, frantic, searching for lips that moved, or the face that matched the sound like the others. There was nothing instead, leaving her unable to breathe.

“Survival was never the price,” another voice came in, and her vision swam. “The bargain was to live bearing one truth and to abandon the other to oblivion. We should let the wrath descend on him,”

This time, the realization sank in far crueler than she’d expected. She was hearing voices!

Then another, softer, almost mocking, slipped into her mind, “And yet… do you think he could bear such a choice?”

Lucrezia’s hands clenched the railing so tightly that her knuckles turned white, the metal biting cold into her palms as if grounding her against the storm of voices inside her head.

They weren’t addressing her, yet the words pressed against her thoughts as if they were meant for her alone.

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