Deep inside the island, beneath the shadow of towering trees, an ancient ritual was about to begin.
The atmosphere itself felt unnatural.
The air had become heavy, suffocating, as if the island was rejecting what was happening within it. Strange black smoke drifted through the forest while crimson markings covered the ground like veins spreading across the earth.
At the center of the ritual field—
Lioran, Sharin, and Aishwarya were tied tightly to thick wooden poles.
Their arms were restrained behind them, their bodies unable to move freely.
And in front of them—
The assassins prepared the ritual.
Daabur stepped forward carrying a massive clay jar.
A thick metallic smell spread through the air instantly.
Sharin frowned.
"…Is that blood?"
Daabur removed the lid.
Inside the jar—
Dark red liquid swirled slowly.
Blood.
A huge amount of it.
Without hesitation, Daabur dipped a large brush into the jar and began painting strange symbols onto the ground.
The markings stretched across the earth in circular patterns, connecting one symbol to another.
The deeper Daabur painted—
The more disturbing the atmosphere became.
The blood markings almost looked alive.
Aishwarya stared carefully at them.
"…These symbols…"
Even she could feel it.
Something horrifying was hidden within them.
Before she could think further—
Kamali suddenly walked toward them carrying flower garlands.
Only—
They weren't flowers.
They were onions.
"What the—?"
Kamali forcefully placed one around Aishwarya's neck.
"Ugh!"
Aishwarya nearly gagged.
"What is this horrible smell?!"
Kamali ignored her and placed another garland around Lioran and Sharin.
Then she took out a pouch filled with red powder.
Lioran's eyes widened.
"…Wait."
Kamali threw the powder directly onto their faces.
"AAAAH—!"
Lioran shut his eyes instantly.
"My eyes!"
The burning sensation spread violently.
Sharin coughed repeatedly while Aishwarya tried to turn her face away.
"Red chili powder?!" she shouted.
But Kamali still wasn't done.
She pulled out lemons and squeezed them over their faces.
The burning intensified.
"What are you even doing to us?!" Lioran yelled.
Kamali stepped back casually.
"It's part of the ritual."
Then—
Bheem walked forward.
The moment he appeared, silence spread again.
Behind him, Dukhchar's shadow moved unnaturally, its skeletal face staring directly at them.
Around the ritual ground, Daabur continued painting symbols with blood.
Lioran glared at Bheem.
"…What ritual?"
Bheem remained silent for a moment before looking toward Dukhchar.
"Explain it to them."
The Narvan slowly emerged from Bheem's back.
Its hollow eyes glowed darkly.
"This…"
Dukhchar spoke in a low, eerie voice.
"…is a forbidden ritual."
Lioran's expression hardened.
"A forbidden ritual?"
Dukhchar nodded.
"A ritual capable of turning someone into a monster."
Aishwarya frowned.
"…Monster?"
"In power," Dukhchar clarified. "In strength. In existence itself."
The black aura around him thickened.
"This ritual requires the sacrifice of exactly six hundred and sixty-seven lives."
The moment those words left his mouth—
Everyone froze.
"…667?" Aishwarya whispered.
Dukhchar continued calmly, as if discussing something ordinary.
"The blood of the sacrifices is used to create the ritual formation. Then the final sacrifices are burned alive within it."
Lioran's fists tightened.
"And after that?"
Dukhchar smiled.
"The life force… the Prāṇa… of all 667 sacrifices is transferred into one being."
Its voice deepened.
"Creating a warrior beyond all limits."
Bheem slowly stepped into the center of the ritual pattern.
The blood markings beneath his feet glowed faintly.
"We became Prāṇa assassins for this purpose," Bheem said calmly.
His voice echoed through the forest.
"To collect sacrifices."
He looked directly at them.
"So far…"
"…we have killed 664 Prāṇa warriors."
Lioran's eyes widened.
The realization hit him instantly.
"…And we're the last three."
Bheem nodded.
"Yes."
Aishwarya frowned deeply.
"But if only the final sacrifice is needed for the ritual… why are all three of us involved?"
Dukhchar answered.
"The more sacrifices offered simultaneously…"
"…the stronger the ritual becomes."
Dukhchar smiled.
"But it is not only good thing, among last sacrifices, we have Vaelion's heir."
Three of them shocked.
Its voice deepened.
"This makes the ritual 100 times more effective."
Silence fell.
Lioran stared at Bheem.
Then suddenly shouted—
"Bheem, stop this!"
The entire forest echoed.
"I know you're not truly evil!"
Bheem's expression twitched slightly.
Lioran continued desperately.
"Think about your Master!"
"Think about your family!"
"Think about your sister!"
His voice grew louder.
"Would she really want this?!"
Suddenly—
"SHUT UP!!!"
Bheem's roar exploded across the ritual ground.
Everyone froze.
Even the fire torches around the area trembled.
Lioran stopped speaking.
Bheem's breathing had become uneven.
His fists trembled violently.
"It doesn't matter anymore…" he said quietly.
His voice sounded broken.
"It doesn't matter what they wanted…"
He slowly lowered his head.
"If they were alive…"
"…then maybe it would matter."
The darkness around him intensified.
"But they're gone."
His voice became colder.
"This world took them away from me."
Black Prāṇa leaked from his body.
"So I'll destroy this world."
Lioran clenched his teeth.
He tried to break free from the ropes.
Prāṇa was bursting from his hands—
But the ropes didn't even loosen.
"…What are these things made of?!"
Aishwarya looked carefully.
Then her eyes narrowed.
"These ropes are made from Prāṇa-conducting material."
Lioran looked at her.
"…Like Pranil?"
She shook her head.
"No. Pranil is far stronger and much rarer."
She examined the ropes carefully.
"But there are other conductive materials too. They can suppress and redirect Prāṇa."
Sharin struggled against his restraints.
"Then how are we supposed to escape?!"
Before anyone could answer—
Bheem pulled out a matchbox.
The assassins silently moved toward the edges of the ritual pattern.
Each of them stood at specific points within the blood markings.
Lioran felt something was wrong.
Very wrong.
"…Bheem."
Bheem struck the matchstick.
FSSSHHH.
A tiny flame appeared.
Then—
He dropped it onto the blood-covered markings.
Instantly—
The blood ignited.
WHOOOOOSH!!!
Fire spread across the symbols at terrifying speed.
The entire ritual formation lit up in crimson flames.
The fire circled around Lioran and his friends.
But then—
Something unexpected happened.
The flames spread toward the assassins as well.
Circles of fire surrounded Kamali, Daabur, Kaali, and Booma.
Lioran's eyes widened.
"…What?!"
The fire trapped them too.
"Bheem!" Lioran shouted. "Your friends are inside the ritual!"
But Bheem remained silent.
He didn't move.
Didn't react.
Lioran couldn't understand it.
"Have you completely lost your mind?!"
His voice cracked with anger.
"Is revenge all that matters to you now?!"
"More than your own friends?!"
"SHUT UP!!"
Bheem screamed again.
But this time—
Lioran noticed something.
Tears.
Bheem was crying.
Even as he shouted—
Even as he tried to act emotionless—
Tears continued falling from his eyes.
"You understand nothing…" Bheem whispered.
His shoulders trembled slightly.
"This…"
"…was their decision."
Lioran froze.
"…What?"
The fire around the ritual slowly began shrinking inward.
The temperature rose rapidly.
Sweat rolled down their faces.
Bheem slowly spoke again.
"The purpose of this ritual is to gather 667 life forces."
He looked toward his companions.
"But there's one final condition."
His voice became heavier.
"The four who collected those sacrifices…"
"…must become sacrifices themselves."
The moment those words landed—
Lioran, Sharin, and Aishwarya were stunned.
Aishwarya's eyes widened in disbelief.
"You're sacrificing your own friends?!"
Sharin shouted angrily—
"They've been with you since childhood!"
"How can you do this?!"
Bheem stood motionless.
Tears continued falling silently.
"You think this doesn't hurt me?" he said weakly.
"You think I wanted this?!"
His fists tightened so hard blood began dripping from his palms.
"You know nothing about the pain I'm carrying…"
Lioran fell silent.
Then—
Aishwarya suddenly noticed something strange.
Her expression changed instantly.
"…Lioran."
Her voice trembled slightly.
Lioran turned.
"What happened?"
She slowly pointed toward the assassins standing inside the flames.
"…Look at them."
Lioran looked carefully.
And froze.
Kamali was smiling softly.
Daabur stood calmly with his eyes closed.
Kaali looked completely relaxed.
Booma was even laughing lightly.
None of them looked afraid.
None of them regretted it.
There was no fear in their eyes.
Only peace.
Only acceptance.
As if—
They had already made their choice long ago.
And that realization…
Was far more terrifying than the ritual itself.
The flames continued rising higher around them.
And above the island—
Dark clouds slowly gathered across the sky.
The ritual of 667 souls had finally begun.
TO BE CONTINUED…