Oliver moved closely with the Snake Group as they explored the inner tunnels of the Ruins.
The place was a series of narrow passageways, each one converging into the next like the veins of some ancient, slumbering beast. It was wide enough for about five of them to walk side by side, their shoulders brushing closely against the cold, damp walls that seemed to breathe faintly with age.
But just for caution, the Snake Group's scout, Clymman, was ahead of them all, while the others followed closely behind in tense silence.
Unlike outside the ruined pyramid, the Dark Crow was useless here since this place did not possess the kind of space needed for aerial maneuvering. And also, when it came to the painstaking task of navigating bizarre ancient Ruins, human foresight was far more valuable.
Ancient Ruins had traps. Ones that demanded perspective, patience, and precision from a human. And Oliver could clearly remember that this one was filled with many of those, scattered around like hidden fangs prepared to bite.
After all, the treasures it possessed were of very high value.
Oliver watched Clymman swiftly lead the team with exact precision, sending commands their way on what steps to take, which stones to avoid, and which walls not to touch.
Seeing how well he handled the situation, Oliver could not help but marvel at it.
Even though he had seen Clymman at work many times in his first life, witnessing it again was still… enigmatic. The man was the key factor behind the Snake Group's efficiency. He possessed a keen sense that allowed him to predict danger, track down enemies, and according to rumors, he could very much see a second ahead into the future.
A rumor Oliver had already confirmed as true.
Oliver pulled the thick fabric of his hoodie forward, concealing his face further, letting a silhouette of darkness swallow most of his features.
'Seeing into the future, even for a second, is quite a useful ability… however, it does have its disadvantages.'
Click!
The entire group froze.
Their faces contorted one after the other as the sharp, mechanical sound of a foot trap being triggered echoed from the rear of the group.
What happened next—
No…
What had already happened, caught everyone's breath in their throats.
One of the Snake Group members staggered backward, his mouth unleashing the most horrific, deathly scream any of them had ever heard. His body collapsed onto his back, dragged violently by force as the white-haired woman grabbed him.
The instant the trap was triggered, she had reacted snapping forward, wrapping her arms around his waist, and yanking him away with everything she had.
But she was too little… too late.
Left standing on the triggered cobblestone were his boots, still upright up to his knees.
Above that…
Nothing.
Blood gushed endlessly, pouring out in thick, steaming streams as a white, cruel blade jutted out from the trap mechanism, glistening with fresh crimson. It had severed his legs cleanly, as if they were nothing more than soft clay.
Apparently, if he had not been pulled away when he was, another blade would have followed, finishing the job completely.
Yet, his condition was not any better.
The group rushed over to the two, panic breaking formation instantly, while Oliver remained where he stood, unmoving, watching from a distance.
'He is lucky he did not die on the spot… the white-haired girl must be sharper than I perceived her to be,' Oliver pondered.
The man shuddered violently from severe blood loss, his face draining of all color as he thrashed uncontrollably like a beast caught in a snare. Saliva sprayed from his lips with every broken scream that tore out of his throat.
It took both Bentley and Bishop; the group's archer—to restrain him, pinning down his arms and remaining body as he convulsed.
"His wounds—they are too severe to heal!" Yuki, the healer, screamed in panic. Her eyes glowed with a faint green hue as she desperately tried to channel healing energy into him, but it only dissolved uselessly into the crimson pool beneath his ruined body.
At this, Bentley's expression caved in.
Slowly, heavily, he lifted his battle axe.
There was only one option left.
"Everyone move!" he ordered.
Without hesitation nor a hint of warning, he brought the axe down.
THUD!
The blade crashed into the man's skull.
Blood and fragments of bone and brain matter burst into the air, raining down in a grotesque shower with some of it splattering across the face of the white-haired girl who still clung to the corpse.
The axe had cleaved clean through the skull—
And stopped just inches from her face.
A breath closer… and she would have died with him.
The Snake Group members stood frozen, horror etched deeply into their expressions. Some clenched their fists, others turned their faces away, all silently forcing themselves to accept it.
After all…
It wasn't like he wouldn't respawn back at Alkarya…
Well—
They were wrong.
WHAM!!!
The sound exploded through the ruins disturbingly loud and violent.
It was like a massive door had been slammed shut with such force that the very air trembled, leaving their ears ringing.
"What the hell was that?!" Clymman shouted.
"I—I don't know!" Yuki shrank back, goosebumps rising across her skin.
"It sounded—"
"Like a door being shut."
[Ding!]
A system notification echoed in all their minds at once.
And immediately—
They knew.
This was not good.
[You have offered up a sacrifice to the Temple]
[All doors have been shut till fully satisfied]
[-3 lives will be deducted from every death]
[Temple has added new Life Point Rule under its territory]
"New rule…?" the white-haired woman muttered, dread creeping into her voice.
[Life Point Rule 1: There will be no respawn after death. You will regenerate back to the state you were in upon entering the Temple.]
[Rule 2: No matter the condition—whether incinerated or completely destroyed—you will revive.]
[Rule 3: (Glitch Effect) If one dies with a weapon embedded in them, they will regenerate and continuously die over and over again until the weapon or harmful material is removed, or until true death occurs.]
[Good luck.]
Silence.
Heavy. Suffocating.
The air itself seemed to thicken as the rules settled into their minds.
Then—
Slowly…
As if pulled by the same invisible thread—
Their gazes shifted.
All of them.
Toward Bentley.
His axe… was still embedded in the skull of their teammate.
"Uhh… no…" Bentley's breathing hitched violently. His chest rose and fell in ragged heaves, his eyes bulging as realization crashed into him.
"It's not—"
He couldn't finish.
His grip tightened around the axe.
Slowly… painfully… he began to pull it out.
The sound it made was wet, dragging and sickening, strangely echoed louder than it should have.
When the axe finally came free—
Nothing happened.
No twitch.
No regeneration.
Not even movement do ignite a flicker of hope.
Right now… the man was no better than a corpse.
"He is… he's… John is dead…" Clymman muttered, his voice trembling as his legs gave out beneath him, dropping him to the ground.
Raw Fear suffocating his countenance.
Players were far too reliant on their lives in the early stages. They believed death was nothing more than a reset—a second chance, probably a convenience. That ideology defied the very laws reality has been built upon.
And that belief…
Made them careless.
It Made them weak.
Groups like the Snake Group thrived on the illusion; extra life bought them confidence built on borrowed time.
Oliver Mori simply shifted his gaze away from their pathetic reactions, turning back toward the deep, swallowing darkness ahead.
It was like the times prior to his regression, the memories of the horrid and sleepless nights, the suffocating despair this cursed place had carved into his very soul.
"After all, this is the resting place of the Snake Group, if I were them, I would start to feel at home."