Béa's lifeless body had been gently cut down by Eva, then carefully laid upon the white, luxurious bed that stood in the center of the room. All around, the others stood motionless, the silence so heavy it was almost palpable.
Only Maïli was missing she had stepped out for a moment and soon returned with Zem. He closed the door softly behind them, plunging the room back into an even denser, more oppressive quiet.
It was Eva who finally broke the painful calm:
"All of this would never have happened if they hadn't forced her to do something like that!" she burst out, her voice vibrating with fury, eyes shining with a rage she made no effort to hide.
"No kidding I couldn't sleep a wink. I spent every second shaking like a leaf, curled up on my bed." Beth looked at her hands, still trembling uncontrollably, and sighed in anguish.
"At least you didn't do the irreparable," Marine murmured gently, wrapping her in a comforting embrace, a clumsy attempt to ease her distress.
"We've all suffered tremendously there's no use denying it. The memories of those innocent children, their terrified faces… they already haunt us, and they'll probably haunt us for the rest of our lives," Karine said, her voice tight with bitterness and grief.
"But Béa… she simply couldn't bear the weight," added Eléonore, her eyes full of sorrow fixed on her friend's inert body.
"Not everyone can endure horrors like that. We can't blame her for breaking… To be honest, I thought about it too," Karine confessed in a whisper barely audible.
A glacial silence settled for a moment clearly, she was not the only one who had contemplated such a dark end.
"I beg your forgiveness all of you! If you hadn't been summoned here, none of this would have happened!" Zem suddenly cried, dropping to his knees and pressing his forehead to the floor before them, eaten alive by guilt.
All eyes turned to him at once, to the man who had lowered himself to the ground to offer them his apology.
"Please, get up," Maïli said at once, her voice firm yet gentle. "You've always treated us fairly. You didn't just drill us mechanically you were always there to support us with your advice and your kindness."
"She's right, Zem. Don't ever lower yourself to the level of the others here," Karine added, her sincerity plain.
Buoyed by their words, Zem slowly raised his head, then stood with the gentle, respectful help of the group who had never blamed him for their situation, not even in their darkest thoughts.
"I know this is unbearably hard for each of us," Maïli resumed, calm but resolute, "but now we have to think seriously about what comes next."
"Do we even have a choice?" Eva asked, resignation seeping into her tone.
"You already know the answer," Maïli replied simply.
"I just wanted to be sure," Eva finished, lowering her eyes.
"Zem, could you give us a clear summary of what you learned during your meeting with the king?" Maïli asked.
Zem sighed, searching for his words before he finally spoke:
"He planned to eliminate the undesirables, as well as anyone he deemed of no further use."
"How shocking," Eléonore said at once, her voice edged with icy irony, while no one else looked remotely surprised.
"So… does that mean we've been sentenced to death?" Eva asked, tense.
"No. It wasn't easy, but I secured that none of you will be executed."
"Then what exactly awaits us now?" Marine asked, apprehension in her voice.
"For Max and Dan, it's been decided they'll join the Blacksmiths' and Alchemists' guilds respectively. As for Eléonore, Karine, and you, Eva you'll join Sigma's royal knights, which I personally command," Zem explained evenly.
"So I have to serve that bastard king? No way! I refuse! I want to leave this place right now!" Eva shouted, nearly losing control under the surge of anger.
"It's the only viable solution I could negotiate. I truly am sorry, but you're far too talented for them to simply let you go," Zem insisted, his voice filled with genuine regret.
"If I have to do horrible things again like killing those poor children I'm out!" Eva protested, on the verge of tears.
"I'll make sure you do as little of that as possible," Zem promised, meeting her eyes with conviction.
"No even with your promises…" Eva shot back, defiant.
"Eva!" Maïli cut in sharply, stopping the exchange cold.
The two young women locked eyes, and then Maïli spoke with a chilling intensity:
"Do you honestly think we have a choice? Do you think I'm happy about this? The reality is that now we have no option but this one. Otherwise it's death for each of us. And I have absolutely no desire for them to force me to kill you the way they forced us to kill those innocent children."
A shiver ran through the room none of them had allowed that possibility to take shape before, and now it felt terrifyingly real.
"So please, Eva Zem fought with everything he had to protect us and defend our interests. Don't waste his efforts," Maïli pleaded, emotion thick in her voice.
She let her gaze travel slowly across the room, taking in each face with utmost seriousness:
"We have no choice. Our only path now is to endure, to become stronger so that one day we can break these chains that hold us captive and make them pay for what they've done to us," she said, her resolve deepening.
Eléonore moved to Eva's side and laid a calming hand on her shoulder:
"She's right, Eva. For now, there's no other choice so let's face it together," she said, firm, resolute.
"…All right," Eva answered, resignation and determination mingling in her voice.
Worried, Beth dared at last to ask what had been gnawing at her:
"And for those who weren't mentioned—what will happen to us?"
Zem answered with quiet clarity:
"Those not chosen to join the knights will have to leave the royal palace. You'll have the option of becoming adventurers. I strongly advise you to register with the Adventurers' Guild as soon as you leave here. It will give you a stable way to provide for yourselves while you grow in maturity and experience."
"So everything is settled for good?" Marine sighed.
"Yes. Exactly one week from now, each of you must take your own path: leave the castle, join the royal knights, or begin life as an adventurer."
"Very well," Marine murmured, accepting, ready to face the next chapter.
Taking advantage of the moment, Maïli turned to Zem with sincere, respectful curiosity:
"Since we're all here, Zem, there's something we all want to ask. In our lessons, we heard about your brother's heroic deed that extraordinary man whose will alone prevented an entire city from being destroyed by monsters. But what we truly want to understand is why you so firmly refuse discrimination against other races, unlike so many here. Could you share your story with us? Or rather, your story together?"
Zem's POV
My brother and I were the modest sons of simple farmers living on the kingdom's outskirts. Our parents owned a small plot of arable land, and despite their humble lot, they gave us all their love and attention, caring for us with unmatched tenderness.
When we were about five years old, our parents took in a wounded beastman they found on our land. Instead of driving him away or harming him, they immediately chose to nurse him back to health with compassion and to fold him into our family without the slightest distinction. Naturally, my brother and I welcomed him as one of us, thrilled to have a third brother by our side.
Life in the fields was hard, but good. Despite the exhaustion of long days under a blazing sun, we found real satisfaction in helping our parents, happy to lighten their daily burden even a little. When we were seven, our parents gave each of us a wooden sword. From then on, our games turned into true battles we'd return home covered in bruises and scrapes. Our mother scolded us every time, worried sick, and yet the very next day we'd start all over again with the same enthusiasm.
Every night, the three of us squeezed into a narrow bed but it didn't matter, so long as we were together. We spent hours laughing, trading stories and dreams, imagining our future adventures. One evening, however, the mood was different. Our third brother, Veid, finally told us how he had ended up on our land, revealing through tears how his entire family had been enslaved. He described the atrocities he had witnessed, unable to hold back his grief at the traumatic memories.
Horrified, my brother and I wrapped our arms around him, trying clumsily to comfort him. In that moment, we understood how present injustice and cruelty were in this world. Nothing could justify such barbarity and a deep anger mixed with a fierce desire for justice took root in us.
Our parents, though, were wise and cautious. They warned us against recklessness. They worshiped no goddess, believing her teachings cold, devoid of empathy or true morality. They believed deeply in humanity, in compassion and mutual respect. Years of hard work in the fields had taught them patience, discipline, courage, and humility precious values they passed on to us, and we took them to heart.
When we went to town to sell our harvest, we had to pass Veid off as a slave to avoid trouble, even though it tore at our hearts. That's how our days went: hard work, games, friendly scuffles, market trips to the city. A simple life, yes but peaceful and rich in its own way.
As we grew, our dreams turned to epic adventures and heroic deeds. At twelve, I was the first to awaken my element. Water suddenly burst from my worn wooden sword. We were all stunned, marveling at the sudden manifestation of magic.
"How did you do that?!" Elias asked, eyes bright with excitement and envy.
"I'm not sure," I answered honestly. "I just felt a strange energy surge through my whole body so I let it out."
"That energy you felt is mana. I learned that in my village," Veid said, a mix of interest and hesitation in his voice.
"If you studied it, then you must know how to use it, right?" I asked.
"To be honest, I'm not very good at it…" he admitted shyly, avoiding our eyes.
"In that case, the three of us will learn together!" I said, determined to support my brother no matter what.
And so began our relentless training, driven by excitement and camaraderie. I quickly discovered a special affinity with water, while Elias excelled in fire. Despite his initial struggles, Veid did his best to master wind. He often had a hard time of it—but that only strengthened our resolve to help and encourage him. We moved forward together.
At fifteen, our thirst for adventure became insatiable, and we decided to officially become adventurers. While still helping our parents with daily work, we now regularly took on missions from the local guild. Hunting and fighting monsters became exhilarating, and we were soon recognized for how well we complemented one another in battle.
After two intense years of exploits and hard-fought battles, we proudly reached C-rank. The money we didn't need, we gave to our parents so they could improve the land and hire help, easing their daily burdens.
By eighteen, we were already B-rank adventurers, known as "The Three Elements." Our reputation was solid; we were respected wherever we went, completing missions and conquering dungeons successfully.
But despite those carefree, successful years, we had forgotten the world's cruel reality. And like any truth you choose to ignore, it came back to haunt us brutally. I will never forget that pain, vivid as if it were yesterday: the rending agony of losing a brother.