CHAPTER 55: DEADLY CARD GAME — TIME THREE

The girl glanced around, her gaze locking briefly with Riven’s trembling hands.

Tyrion sat with his head bowed low, silent and distant.

"No, Sylas, he... How did this happen...? Hey, where are we? Can anyone explain?!" Lirael shouted into the void.

"Lirael... I think we’ve fallen into someone’s trap," Riven said, his voice low with regret. "Maybe... we’re even imprisoned within enemy territory."

"But... who would go this far? L-let me think...! Some of my memory came back. I remember yesterday—Sylas and I were just sitting peacefully at the academy and—"

As soon as she remembered Sylas, nausea surged. The bloodstains and iron scent clinging to the air made her head spin.

"Yeah... I remember everything up until yesterday too..."

Suddenly, Tyrion spoke, his tone grim and detached. His face was pale, haunted.

"I killed my own brother. I didn’t even hesitate. With my own hands... I took his life... I killed the one person I loved most!!!"

His scream startled Lirael, piercing the silence.

"This damned place is cursed! They want us dead! This game they’ve forced us into—it’s just a distraction for those who enjoy watching us die! Bastards, you’ll pay for this!"

"Tyrion... we likely won’t escape this place until we finish the game."

"...What? What the hell are you saying, Riven? After all this, you still plan to keep playing?! My brother’s corpse is still warm beside you, and you act like that means nothing?!"

Tyrion lunged, grabbing Riven by the collar and choking him.

"I—ghk... I understand... he was my friend... but whoever’s behind this... they want us divided. If we let that happen, we lose everything."

Confused and furious, Tyrion reluctantly let go and slumped back into his seat.

ROUND THREE

"I’ll discard this card from my hand," said Riven.

He chose to play with only three cards—a bold move at this stage of the game.

"Tyrion, I challenge you to a duel. Let’s play."

No one besides Claude dared to go against Tyrion.

But why Tyrion? He could’ve easily targeted Lirael, who trembled in fear, or the unsure Riven.

In Claude’s eyes, Tyrion was the most unstable of the three. Distracted, grieving — he wasn’t thinking straight.

"This is just sad..."

DUEL: Claude vs Tyrion (Sudden Death!)

Tyrion’s shoulders slumped. He didn’t care anymore. He just wanted it to end.

"Players, roll the dice."

"..."

"Refusal will count as disqualification," Claude warned. "What, planning to hand me victory? Play."

Suddenly, Riven broke the silence.

"Tyrion! Don’t you realize they’ll just kill you if you don’t fight? You have to win—do you hear me?"

"Heh. What difference does it make?" Tyrion’s voice was hollow. "I killed my brother. Death would be a kindness. You’ll never understand what it’s like to kill your own blood."

"Don’t give up! You think this is the end, but you still have a reason to live."

"Oh yeah? Like what? That damned academy? A future family? None of that matters anymore."

Riven swallowed hard.

"No... Have you forgotten? You have a sister. She’s waiting for you to come home... Doesn’t she deserve your strength now?"

"..."

"Is Sylas the only one who matters to you? If I had a sister, I’d do anything to protect her. I’d move mountains, walk through fire... Girls are delicate — like flowers."

Aimer. Her name echoed in Tyrion’s mind.

"..."

"Remember! You won that tournament trophy just to see Aimer smile. You’re right—I don’t understand. I’m an only child. But for a friend, I’d go to hell and back to protect him!"

"What...?"

Tyrion’s eyes filled with memories of warmth, family, laughter. He hadn’t forgotten them. Not really.

Riven had simply lit the flame again.

If he died here, Aimer would be left completely alone. And that loneliness — that was the thing Grimmveil’s trio feared most.

Tyrion snapped out of his despair. His fists clenched. Teeth ground together.

One thought dominated his mind: Win. No matter what it takes.

’I’ll give everything! Even if I have to sacrifice myself, I’ll protect Aimer! Claude, that bastard... I’ll wipe that smug grin off your face.’

Tyrion rolled the dice. He’d go second. Four cards entered his hand:

1 King, 2 Mages, and 1 Hunter. A great hand.

Claude, however, had been holding two cards back.

"Hmm. I think now’s the time."

He swapped two cards from his hand with the ones he’d saved from previous rounds.

First move: Claude played Tower 4-5.

"..."

The only card that could kill a Tower was Hunter.

Tyrion played Hunter 5-2, Mage 4-4, and King 4-6.

’Early domination. One card left in hand. I’ll bluff if I have to. I won’t lose to Claude!’

The Hunter clashed with the Tower and fell. Tyrion took the board.

Just as victory felt within reach, Claude chuckled darkly.

"Looks like I lost," Claude said with mock disappointment. "Such a shame."

Tyrion hesitated. Had Claude really given up?

"...Just kidding."

Claude’s face twisted into a crooked, devilish grin.

He revealed the cards in his hand—

Three Kings.

He slammed them onto the board, slaughtering every one of Tyrion’s cards.

"..."

"Well? Your move."

"N-no way... You’ve been saving those Kings all this time?!"

Claude smirked.

"Not exactly. You still haven’t figured it out, have you? From the very start, I stashed two Kings, sure. But that’s not why I won.

Every card you’ve drawn in this game—none of them were random. They were based on your confidence. The weaker your morale, the worse your cards.

This is a psychological game. A test of how you act under pressure.

And Tyrion... you’re nothing but a coward."

That sinister grin — it gnawed at Tyrion’s very soul.

"No... I don’t believe it... I won’t die here!! Bastard, this can’t be happening! How do you know all this?!"

"Heh. You really haven’t figured it out?"

"..."

"I never lost my memories."

W-what?

"T-that’s cheating...! Hey! Someone, anyone! This player’s cheating! I demand a rematch! This is unfair!"

"Player Claude acted within his assigned role," came the echoing female voice. "He is the Watcher. His role was explained at the beginning. You were allowed to ask him about the rules—he would have answered. Claude’s move was to pose as one of you to avoid suspicion."

"How...?"

Claude smiled with his eyes.

"Tyrion, it’s over."

"Y-you bastard!!!"

Tyrion lunged.

His body convulsed and collapsed like an old spring.

Only his stretched skin remained. Blood was everywhere.

Lirael screamed.

Riven shut his eyes, refusing to witness it.

"No... Tyrion... Tyrion!!!"

"And now, children... it’s your turn to die."

Tyrion had fallen.

All players’ memories returned.

ROUND FOUR

Lirael didn’t just want to survive — she wanted to win. End the game. No matter the cost.

She’d made it this far. That had to mean something.

Win. Survive.

"I challenge you to a duel, Riven il Riverfall," said Claude.

"...Alright."

"Hmph? So scared you can’t speak?"

"Scared...? Yeah, I’m terrified... Terrified of dying. Claude, you call us ’humans’ like we’re beneath you... but in that, we’re the same. No one wants to die."

"Say what you will, but the outcome is obvious. Victory belongs to those who deserve it. Show me what you’ve got, boy."

New hands were drawn. Riven swallowed.

Claude went first. He played his full hand:

Three Kings and one Tower.

Lirael stared at the board in despair.

"Let’s not waste time. This is the best hand I could’ve drawn. Surrender, Riven. You’re dead already.

Let me tell you a secret. No matter how badly you want to win, it all comes down to confidence. Cowards like you have no place in war. Use your head — you’re frail and small. You think being a mage protects you from a knight?

A mage with no confidence can’t beat even a slave."

Riven looked broken. He sighed and laid down his entire hand.

"You’re right," he said. "Cowards don’t belong on the battlefield. The unsure only drag others down."

His cards hit the table.

"...W-what?"

Four Kings. 4-6.

Claude was stunned.

"Four Kings...? H-hey, how did you...? Only Sir Oldrich managed that in the last five centuries."

"Actually, I got suspicious in Round Two. The moment I saw my hand, something felt off. And in the boss room—I memorized all your cards."

"A-all of them? That’s impossible!"

"You don’t have to believe me. It took me thirty seconds. That’s when I knew. Some of us had strong hands from the start, others didn’t. So I stopped dwelling on bad outcomes.

In short, I cooled my head."

"Tch... How dare you sound so melancholic?"

"...I just pity you. Winning means I become a killer, and there’s no way back. But if this is the only path to survival — I’ll walk it."

"Damn it... This can’t be... I lost? No... wait. It can’t end like this!"

"See you in hell, Claude..."

Riven lowered his eyes, staring at his trembling hands. He accepted the path he’d chosen.

SHRRRRRRRRAAAAHHH—

Claude disintegrated into sand and vanished into oblivion.

Lirael sat in silence. Shocked. But her mind was fixated on one thing: survival.

In the end, only two remained.

ROUND FIVE

"..."

"..."

(The next Chapter is the last part of the game...)