Hearing the God’s command, the man began to run—barely holding himself together—but he didn’t dare stop. Because what awaited him if he did... wasn’t just death. It was the kind that didn’t end clean—and that terrified him most.
The man’s first step landed with a sloppy smack, like wet at hitting the solid ground. Fire shot up through his thigh muscles, every tendon screaming in betrayal. His skin prickled as blood rushed past his healing wounds, and the air scratched his throat like broken glass.
Sweat blurred his vision, and yet he ran—because the cold presence behind him wasn’t just watching.
It was judging.
Judging his death.
Thud...
Only after taking ten steps,
His foot rotated due to the weight of his body. He staggered, almost dropped—but forced himself forward with a wheezing gasp.
Slap, slap, slap. His bare feet smacked against the dirt like desperate applause begging for survival.
THUD!
He couldn’t even complete the first lap.
His body crashed to the ground like a sack of broken bones. The solid ground bit into his cheek. A strangled hnngh! Escaped his throat before he rembered the God’s command and clamped it shut.
Despite the pain killing him, the man knew he couldn’t stop. Biting his lips to not let any sound of desperation and pain out, he continued without stopping.
With each stumble, he got up—no ti to rest—as a sword of judgnt was hanging over his neck in the sharp, cold gaze which was watching him in amusent.
Huff... Huff... Huff...
His lungs burned with every ragged breath, his throat parched, the air too dry to swallow.
Slap... slap... slap...
The sound grew fainter with distance but louder in dread—every step was borrowed ti, every breath, stolen rcy.
But he continued—holding on to the hopes of living—covered in blood, bruises, and desperation.
In between, his hand also shattered from one of many falls, as it was already foreseen by sothing greater and was ant to be, yet he didn’t scream. His teeth tore through the flesh of his lips.
He continued and continued in hopes.
In hopes, he continued.
The survival lay in those very hopes.
And.
Slowly but surely, he was reaching his goal—stumbling, bloody, sweaty, and in agony.
This was his final lap.
Everyone’s eyes were fixed on him, as what he was doing wasn’t sothing just anyone could do—and if he completed his last lap, he would survive.
While many were torn between their previous hate toward the very man and the pity they now felt, as this was really a torturous experience, it almost felt surreal that he had a strong enough will to hold on until then.
But so only wished he would stop sohow, or make a sound, so that it could lead to his end. There was helplessness on Lisa’s face as she was praying.
And Jas—he was even more ugly than before. He was biting his lip while seeing the man who could escape the glorious death prepared for him by his master.
If only he were sure that his master wouldn’t kill him, he would have already played so dirty trick on the man using his magic.
After his master, the second most important thing to him was his excitent—which reached its peak when his master tortured soone. If killed, he could even faint with pleasure alone through his excitent.
He knew he had a twisted personality. He found it exciting when he killed soone, but he had found the glorious and beautiful way his master had killed his own colleague by turning her into a statue—there was no other form of entertainnt above it.
He had bitten too much of his nail—so much that even blood was drawn—but he didn’t care, as sothing so important was going wrong.
Only if I knew my master won’t kill ...
He could even take the torture in exchange for this.
It was worth it—for Jas.
Mark was about to reach his mark—as the God was standing right in front of him. He only had to take five steps.
I did it. I survived.
Haff haff
His bare and bloody foot hit the grass, which was covered in his blood. His laps had left a bloody mark in every step, forming a circle.
He had taken a step.
Only four more steps and I will live!
His heart pounding like it could co out of his chest any mont, he can hear the cloud thrumming of his heart.
His stumbling feet took another step.
A smile couldn’t help but appear on his face, revealing his gums covered in his blood. This was the first ti he had worked so hard for sothing. He felt satisfaction and pride in surviving this ordeal.
Which made him realize—there are real monsters living in this world.
The fish were too big, he couldn’t comprehend their vastness. And one was standing in front of him.
But Mark—who had still not reached his mark—saw the God’s expression beco frosty from his unreadable one earlier. His eyes matched his and made him flinch—those mystical eyes, the cross in them was thinner now.
He had seen them before.
Just before the God made him kneel and tortured him for a while. How much ti? He wasn’t aware, as his mind was too numb with pain at that ti.
What is happening?
Mark was terrified out of his very being, as he couldn’t comprehend what was going on.
But he still continued—taking one step before reaching his mark.
Desperation to finish the twenty laps was a thousand tis more now.
The God raised his hand—slow, unhurried, like a judge preparing to end a trial with a single gesture. The wind itself seed to recoil.
Jas was witnessing everything with his eyes completely wide—he hadn’t blinked since the laps started.
The drool was coming out of his mouth, mixed with his very blood.
Disgusting.
His teeth still clattering, his bloody fingernails twitching.
My Lord... show the greatest sight in this world...
Everyone was watching, holding their breath in silence, as their God was definitely doing sothing.
Only silence, even the sound of breathing, was being held in anticipation—to what was going to happen.
Was he going to be healed again like before? Or was it sothing else entirely?
His hand ca down in a swift and fluid motion. The mana inside his body was already surging in anticipation.
Then, a single and deadly word left his mouth.
"Die."
Mark was only one step away from reaching his mark.
A sudden wind buzzed in anticipation. The air crackled.
An ear-deafening crackling sound buzzed in the very air—held hostage by the silence of anticipation.
It ca from above.
Jas’s eyes barely registered the massive thunderbolt—like Heaven’s very own decree—descending on him.
WHY
WHY
WHY!!!!!
WHYYY GOD!!!
"WHHHHYYYYYY!!!!!!"
A face of helplessness, questions, and despair—as the massive thunderbolt descended on the very ground he stood, directly onto him.
A blinding flash split the sky—BOOM!—like a divine gavel crashing down from the heavens. The air shrieked as it tore, a jagged streak of white and gold devouring everything in its path. Then silence. Then dust.
After that, no scream was even heard from him. The ground was scorched and destroyed by the might of the thunderbolt.
The dust of anticipation whirled in the air, blocking the view of everyone else—who didn’t even know the aftermath of the attack, which would have burst their ears and sent pieces of the ground flying. But it was blocked by their God’s master control of the wind elent.
The dust slowly settled. Everyone’s eyes narrowed in anticipation—to what had happened to Mark. They knew the answer—but couldn’t believe it, as so trick might have been played by their God.
Only Jas’s eyes were filled with ecstasy. He was sure that the man had died—pissing off his monstrous master, and surviving was too rare.
Still, he wanted to see it too.
The dust settled—revealing Leon’s figure, completely unbothered by the destruction around him. Not a scratch even on his clothes.
Their eyes wide open, mouths hung in shock as they saw only ashes remained where Mark was standing—just one step away from completing twenty laps.
But he was dead now. Not just dead—turned to dust.
And the proof was in front of them.
Ahh!
Jas collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut, face red, limbs twitching, drool trailing from the corner of his mouth. His back hit the earth with a dull thump—and he trembled like he’d been personally blessed by madness.
As the huff of glorious death he had witnessed made him tremble in excitent.
My Lord is the greatest.
A transparent golden screen flickered open in front of Leon.
His pupils shrank.
Even he hadn’t foreseen this.
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