Seth hurled the useless tome across the room. It struck the wall and flopped open. On the same wall, above the book, was a ring of 46 yellow flames. Has that much time passed already? Fuck! Seth stormed out of his room and entered the main hall.

  The seven chosen sacrifices were still there. Therus was facing the wall, and Xiaobo was curled up sleeping. How can he sleep? If I were in his shoes... Seth shook his head free of the thought, and returned to the altar with the tome describing the ritual.

  It was a convoluted mess of sigils, and he didn't know most of them. The gist of the ritual, though, was to completely drain the sacrifices. Both body and soul. With these sacrifices, along with the elevated qi in the area, he could create seven false dantians. These flow into the main dantian, which compresses and sends the qi back. It ends up being a virtuous cycle. The downside was that it took more qi to advance to the next realm.

  He looked over the people sitting and lying there. One of them had noticed him looking and started screaming. At least, that's what the flapping of his mouth open and closed looked like. No sound exited the barriers holding them prisoner. The prisoner tried using some magic techniques against the barrier. He even tried slamming his shoulder into it repeatedly. All of it was useless.

  Seth ignored his stomach's grumbling and returned to his room. He hadn't eaten since the final trial began. In theory, he should be able to bind his tumors with the ritual. He even had a mostly completed plan. His two major limitations were ability and power. He couldn't use his ritual parts to make the binding formations in the air around his tumors. Some were missing. If he could do that, he might overcome the power issue. Maybe.

  Seth sighed and closed his eyes. Then, on a whim, he descended into his mindspace. He hadn't been here since he learned how to regenerate lost limbs and heal fatal injuries. It was dark and desolate as always. Hanging at the edges of the space were the ritual parts he called on. The sigils were floating in a clear membrane that partly surrounded the space. He touched one, the membrane gently giving under his touch. It was ready to use at a moment's notice. It was a part of his soul. Should I be worried about this thing being a part of my soul?

  He shook the thought from his head and focused on the symbol. Looking at it, he felt a sense of... peace. Maybe he was going crazy. An image of him draining the life out of Therus, Xiaobo, and everyone else flashed in front of him. If I took their power and life, I could crush— Seth crushed that thought as soon as it appeared. He couldn't push the shame and disgust that filled him down as easily.

  Seth stared at the ritual part symbol, seeking an escape. Then, the memory of how he gained it flashed through his mind. The pedestals. He put qi into the pedestal to lift the ritual part, but doing so also etched it into his soul. What did that qi feel like again? He sat there trying to remember how that qi felt. One image felt too cold. Another felt too... sticky or gooey. Each experimental image brought him closer to... something.

  One more tweak to the image, and heat filled his right hand. Not daring to look, he moved it in a pattern that had become all too familiar. When he was done, he looked at what he had done in his mindspace. It was faint, but it was there. A symbol carved into his mind, ready for him to use. He touched it. It wasn't as ready as the well-trodden symbols, but it would do. He smiled and looked at the wall. 43 yellow flames remained. Had I been in my mindspace that long? He stretched his legs, and his knees popped.

  Not wanting to waste any more time, he moved out to the ritual area. Then, he planned out how he would construct the ritual pieces in his mindspace. One thing that became apparent was that the full binding ritual took too much focus for him to perform all at once. He tried to circumvent this by inscribing the whole thing in his mindspace in one go. After thirty seconds, pain tore through his soul. The process was nowhere near finished. He tried to push through it, but sensed that if he went any further, something would break. With a sigh, he released the energy. Seth opened his eyes and wiped the sweat beading on his forehead. His hand came back red.

  Two hours later, he had inscribed four more ritual parts. When he started on the fifth one, he found he couldn't start the process. It felt like he had run out of paper. He tried to push through, but the same pain tore through his soul, urging him to back off. Ok, another limit. It's fine, I'll just erase one of these that I don't need. Just how...do I do that?

  It took him another four hours to find the answer. When he thrust his hand through the membrane, it felt like he had stabbed himself. Still, he wrapped his hand around the membrane and tore the sigil out in one go. He would have screamed, but the pain stopped him from breathing. Cursing, he tried to put another ritual piece in its place, but pain flared through his soul, ending the attempt. The hole in the membrane was still ragged and glowed green and red. Ok, should have known I'd have to wait for it to heal. Let's just get another one out of the way. Only four more to go.

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  The feeling of dread that flooded through him when he tried to tear out the next ritual piece stopped him cold. He just touched it with the cutting energy, and the pain rocketed him right out of his mindspace. After the dizziness and the nausea cleared, he found himself lying on his side. A wet, metallic feeling filled his mouth, and every muscle and joint ached. He smelled sweat, bile, and urine. Did I... yes, yes I did. Fuck, that was a bad idea. Pain paralyzed Seth for the next thirty minutes.

  Do I really have to sacrifice my friends to get ahead? Wait, are Therus and Xiaobo really my friends? If our positions were reversed, would they even hesitate before sacrificing me?

  His mind conjured an image of being trapped in that cage, and his blood turned to ice. He already knew the answer. Xiaobo wasn't even a question. They got along, but he had no illusions about what his fate would be. Therus... he wanted to believe Therus would at least hesitate and try to find another solution. Would I even blame Therus if he had to sacrifice me? After all, if he didn't sacrifice me, the next certainly would. If I had to choose... yeah, I'd rather Therus benefit from my death.

  Seth took a deep breath and reviewed the ritual. At the very least, it would take six hours to set up. If he made no mistakes. Thinking rationally, he should double, or even triple it to account for mistakes. He glanced at the ticking clock. 35 flames remained. I still have time.

  A wave of dizziness washed over Seth. He tried shaking it off, but that only made him feel nauseous. How long had it been since he slept? He looked at the ritual book on the altar, but the patterns and letters on it were blurry. But if he slept, he'd have no time to work on alternatives. Can I even think clearly enough to work on alternatives?

  He tried for another twenty minutes. It proved too much for his foggy mind. Hunched over, he dragged himself back to his room and passed out as soon as he hit the bed.

  "Daddy?" He was sitting in a cafe. His daughter was in the booth across from him. Her arms were crossed, and she had a concerned look on her face.

  "Are you feeling okay?" she asked, leaning in as if to inspect him.

  "Y-yeah, just tired."

  "Didn't sleep well?"

  "Yeah. Some nasty dreams." He kept his dreams of evil martial arts cults to himself. She'd just tease him if she knew.

  "Fucking mom—"

  "Jess, don't talk about your mom like—"

  "Why are you defending her!?"

  "I'm not. I just want to make sure you don't tear that relationship to the ground." Ah, this is where she starts crying... wait, how do I know that?

  "So you want to pretend to be a good person? After you drained all your friends for power?" The concerned look was gone now. In its place was a devilish grin.

  "W-w-w—"

  "Don't act so surprised, Daddy. Did it feel good to drain them?"

  Jess gestured to his left, and Therus was there, shriveling up before his eyes. He was screaming and pleading a silent scream. The barrier prevented sound from getting out after all. She gestured to the right, and Xiaobo appeared, his withered face a mask of agony.

  "Is that why you left us? So you could kill and drink their souls and get strong?"

  "No, I didn't have—"

  "Of course you didn't have a choice. You never had a choice, did you?"

  A blink, and he was in his house. His ex-wife and her boy toy were crumpled remains on the floor. Jess and Mark were cowering in the corner. The scent of fear and blood filled the room.

  "Daddy, please don't...." Jess said, trailing off into hysterical sobbing.

  "Why did you have to do that? You don't come to see me a single time, and now you..." Mark screamed at him defiantly, still huddled in the corner.

  Seth raised his bloody hands to his face. He was smiling.

  His eyes shot open as he jumped out of bed to his feet. 28 flames remained on the wall. Seth put his hand to his chest; he could feel his heart beating beneath. He took a couple of deep, calming breaths. Calmer, he flipped through the book that was still lying on the ground. More rested, his mind felt lighter, more free.

  He left his room for the ritual hall, ignoring everyone else. The ritual reference was easy to find. He dove into his mindspace. It had healed, and he tore out another ritual piece. Three left. While it healed, he worked on burning a central piece for the binding ritual into his soul.

  Five hours later, his mind had healed enough for him to carve out another piece and start tracing another. He'd get all the pieces he needed, but would lose most of his buffer time. Head clearer, that was a trade he'd happily make a hundred times over for a chance to avoid having to butcher his friends.

  Peace flowed through him as he worked ten more hours to put the rest of the pieces he'd need into his soul. The clock on the wall showed thirteen flames remaining. Less leeway than he wanted, but still had enough time to fix mistakes and resolve problems. If his plan failed, however...No, we're going to succeed. Let's do this.

  Hours flowed by as he etched the ritual in the altar room. Twice, he needed to go back and redo his work. Minor mistakes could be disastrous here. To the main ritual, he connected rituals to draw the ambient qi in. He opened his qi-sight and sighed in relief. The chamber was even more qi-rich than yesterday, and the nexus points it was gathering around hadn't shifted.

  It ended up taking nine hours to set up the ritual. Time flew by as his mind dove into the work. He latched onto making every detail perfect, blocking everything else out. Everything else may be going wrong, but this... at least this was right. When he came out of his trance, he touched the ritual, sending a tentative trace of qi through it. Everything was in order. He took a few more deep breaths to calm his racing heart. It was a waste of time. There were four hours left until he succeeded or died.

  It was time to get started.