It's been a week since coming to this pit hole. It's been filled with power struggles and ruthlessness unlike anything coming from the orthodox faction.
Fighting has been on the rise, but it seems like everyone just knows their rightful place. The guards, while shrouded in mystery, only survey from time to time and do not actively get involved in the children's fights.
Mia and her partners have been far more ruthless lately, earning her the title—Poison Ivy, beautiful yet deadly. She dominated the power struggles in the cave as she possessed deadly martial arts, especially with her poison arts.
Hyeolmu, on the other hand, has been doing far worse than the others due to being the weakest in the pit. He was seen as the easiest target—a punching bag even for the lowest of the low.
Especially after falling out of favor with Mia and her group, no one was willing to help him or take him in, as they where afraid it would affect their own lives as well.
But all in all, he was doing far better than he had been in the past two years—though still far worse compared to an average ten-year-old child.
****
The bells in the cave finally rang again, summoning every child to the center of the pit. This was the second time they had heard it since their arrival—the first being when they were forced to slaughter each other.
A mixture of worry and fear filled the atmosphere. The fear of the unknown weighed heavily on their shoulders, digging up old memories and revealing old wound. Most of the children didn't want to experience what they had gone through before ever again. Not because they hated killing, infact it was the opposite, they loved the Blood shared but didn't want to be on the receiving end of the stick.
"The rations meant for you children have been getting reduced lately in other to save cost. Henceforth, from this point onward, only the strong shall eat, and the weak will starve," said one of the guards, masked with the word "DEATH" written across his face. At this stage, he seemed to be the head guard and was called Red Death, because of the color of his mask.
In the background, other guards carrying books of varying quality, most where of ripping covers, placed them on the ground in front of Red Death.
"From this point on, you all will pick a martial arts technique that suits you. In two weeks' time, there will be a competition—your fate will depend on the results. The strong shall eat while the weak will only starve," the guard said coldly.
Immediately, fear grew on the children's faces again—but this time, something was different. Many of the children if not all of them had a sadistic smile on their faces, as though excited to stain their hands with blood once more.
As the guards exited the room, the children began moving toward the martial arts manuals laid out on the ground. Mia and her group took most of the strongest techniques for themselves, leaving the weaker ones for the others.
Although there were a few heated arguments over the martial arts manuals, it was soon resolved, and all of the techniques were taken—except one.
It was a book titled Vermilion Vein Art. It appeared weaker compared to the rest and was in far worse condition that the others. It was also one of the few techniques that required the practitioner to have never trained in martial arts before; otherwise, their Qi would flow in the wrong direction, leading to Qi deviation.
A martial arts technique that was tailored for Hyeolmu, as he as no martial arts experience and it was the only martial arts technique that was available for him. Even though it was considered a 3rd rated martial arts technique. It was one that he didn't have any choice but to practice.
It was a martial art perfectly tailored for Hyeolmu, who had no previous martial experience. Though it was considered a third-rate martial arts technique, it was the only one available to him—and he had no choice but to at the very least attempt practicing it.
As he was about to pick up the manual, a group of four boys stepped in front of him. They were his usual tormentors—the ones who bullied him because he was the weakest.
Although they weren't strong themselves, they were still above Hyeolmu in terms of strength, which was why they used him as their outlet—a punching bag to escape the reality of their own weakness.
"Where do you think you are going to do with this book?" one of the boys who seemed like their leader, sneered, placing his foot on the martial arts manual Hyeolmu was about to pick up.
Like always, Hyeolmu stayed silent, trying to pull the book from under the boy's foot.
"I heard his dad was the Blood Demon—one of the five strongest in the continent," one of the boys said in mockery.
"Didn't he die recently because he was too scared to face the Demon Lord? Guess he's just like his father—a fucking cowar—"
Before the boy could even finish, Hyeolmu's fist slammed into his jaw, sending him sprawling before he even knew what hit him.
"DON'T YOU EVER DISRESPECT MY FATHER!" Hyeolmu said, his voice shaking with rage, his fist clenched together and it eyes boiling with anger.
The other boys were stunned. Never had they seen him fight back—or even talk back. But their shock quickly turned to fury, especially their leader, who wiped blood from his mouth in anger.
He lunged at Hyeolmu, tackling him to the ground, driving his fist into Hyeolmu's stomach again and again. No one stepped in. The beating continued, over and over, until two hours later, the boy finally stopped and walked away.
By then, Hyeolmu lay on the ground, breathing raggedly, hanging by a thin thread between life and death. His body was drenched in blood, completely drained of strength.
Finally, he managed to muster what little energy he had left to pick up the Vermilion Vein Art, dragging himself across the cold stone floor toward the small dark cave he always hid in.
Blood trailed behind him like a scar on the earth.
No one helped him.
Not a single hand was raised.
To be continued...
To be continued...