The bodies of Derek's team lay scattered on the ground soaked with blood.
Their life energy had become part of Dante's own strength, which kept growing stronger.
His four shadow puppets stood there quietly, their violet eyes fixed ahead like unmoving guards. They showed just how complete his win had been.
His team, the ones still alive and fighting for him, waited behind him.
Their faces mixed sadness for the friends they had lost with a cold kind of respect for the leader who scared them now. He seemed more like a monster than a person.
And right at his feet, Derek knelt. The big, brutal leader who had acted so tough was now nothing but a beaten man, struggling to breathe, his face white from fear.
The red light from his artifact had faded away, making him look small and weak.
He glanced up at Dante, his old cocky smile gone, replaced by a shaky, begging look. "Please," he said in a rough whisper. "Dante... please, don't do it."
"I was wrong. I messed up, all right? We can work together. I can join up with you. I'll follow your lead. I promise."
Dante stared down at him without changing his face. He didn't feel a thing. No sorry for him, no real joy in this, not even anger anymore.
Derek was just a problem to fix, a last bit of trouble to handle. His begging sounded like empty noise, like some bug making sounds that didn't matter.
"Serve me?" Dante said, his voice low and calm in a way that felt dangerous. "You've already done that. You put together a group of fighters, made them tough and ready, and handed them right over to me."
"You worked great as a tool. But you're cracked now. And I don't keep tools that don't work anymore."
His team shifted behind him, getting ready. He could sense their need for payback, something strong and urgent in the air. They wanted him to end Derek. They wanted him to suffer for what he did to Neil and Juno.
Derek's eyes went wide with pure fear when he saw the deadly look in Dante's face. He crawled back fast, using his hands and feet to push away like he was scared out of his mind.
"No, hold on! Stop!" he yelled, all his pride thrown away. "I got something you want! Info! A real secret!"
Dante stopped for a second. He let Derek keep talking. It was kind of funny to watch.
"My group... we asked the Goddess stuff too!" Derek said in a rush, the words spilling out quick and messy. "We wanted to know what comes after we beat the trial! I know about the prize!"
Dante let out a quick, mocking breath. What nerve. He really thought this could save him?
"I know all that already," he said, his tone flat and let down. "Six people make it. Six kingdoms take them. Six new starts as tools or toys for whoever runs those places. Your life isn't worth repeating what I figured out."
"No, wait, that's not the point!" Derek pushed, shaking his head side to side like crazy. "You get the end result, but not the extra part! You know she gives a blessing, don't you?"
Dante's hand froze. A blessing. That was something he hadn't heard. "Explain."
Derek caught the spark in his eyes and held on tight, like it was his only way out. "The top spot!" he said, breathing hard.
"The first person to wrap up the trial, the first to take down the Bone Dragon and get that Hero's Mark! The one who steps up through the Gate first! The Goddess lets them make a wish! Whatever they want!"
Everything around them seemed to freeze up. The forest noises, the faint crackle from leftover fires, the heavy breaths from his team it all turned into a low hum in his ears.
A wish. Not some new ability, not a magic item, not a spot in a small kingdom. A real wish. The chance to bend a rule, fix a bad turn, reach for something way outside this harsh setup.
"A wish?" Dante said again, the idea feeling odd as he said it out loud.
"Yeah! Whatever you pick!" Derek nodded fast, over and over. "She mentioned rules—you can't ask to become a god or immortal, no extra wishes, nothing that hurts her rules."
"You can't wish yourself back home... but everything else! Dante, think you could ask for total strength! Or bring back one of your lost friends, alive again!"
From behind him, a quick breath caught in someone's throat. Erica. The idiot. He was dropping hints of hope in a spot where it could cause trouble later.
But the main idea in what he said... it carried weight bigger than just getting even. Ending Derek would close out this messy fight for good.
It would give his sad team a quick sense of rightness. But how did that stack up? Against the shot to change his whole path forward.
The whole setup had shifted now. It wasn't just hanging on to make the cut of six anymore, scraping by in this death game.
Now it was about hitting first. Being the one that counted most. The real top dog. The rest, even the other five who made it, would end up second best.
Dante eased his fist open slow. The close danger passed, and Derek let out a shaky breath, his body trembling with relief as he sobbed.
He figured he had pulled it off. He believed he traded info for a way to keep breathing.
"Thanks," he said in a weak voice, tears running down his cheeks. "Thank you, Dante. I owe you big. I'll handle whatever you say--------"
"I didn't say anything about letting you live," Dante cut in, his voice flat and hollow, like an empty spot in the cold.
The light in Derek's eyes broke apart, turning to total shock he couldn't process. "What? But... the secret! I gave it up! You said you'd take it!"
"I didn't say that," Dante replied, getting to his feet and looking down like he was checking over some test subject. "The info helped. I'm glad you shared it."
"But you as a person... you mean nothing to me now. You're a risk. A possible problem. And I don't let problems stick around."
Derek's mouth fell open to yell, plead, or swear, but nothing came. He froze solid from the raw sting of getting tricked like that.
Dante tilted his head a little, his eyes landing on the quiet shadow puppet that used to be the Wardcraft user—the kid who had blocked attacks for Derek without question.
"You handle it," he ordered, no feeling in his tone at all. "Take him out."
The shadow moved in smooth and steady, without a sound. Derek watched in full panic as the form of his old teammate, his buddy, lifted its ghost hand.
It felt right in a dark way. He wouldn't die from his rival's hand. He'd get finished off by the shadow of the trust he had thrown away himself.
Shnk.
The shadow's hand drove into Derek's chest. He made one last rough sound, his eyes stuck on Dante's, showing nothing but broken trust that cut deep.
Then his eyes went dull and he dropped to the dirt in a pile, his last bit of knowledge traded for a death Dante planned all along.