The clearing was full of mess. People yelled out. Others said quick prayers. Some pushed, grabbed, and held on to people they knew.
They wanted to be safe with more people around. Dante watched. He was alone, like he always was.
Everyone stared at the glowing door where Liora waited. No one moved. They looked at each other, waiting for someone to go first.
So he did.
The noise stopped. Every head turned. He felt their stares on him. They made him uncomfortable. He ignored them and walked right to the door.
He pushed it open without saying anything.
Inside, the room glowed warm and soft. Liora stood there. She was calm, like everything was normal. She smiled with a kind look, but she seemed tired.
"Come forward, hero," her voice went into his mind. It was clear and direct. "I will give you your skill."
Dante stepped close. When she put her hand on his head, pain burst in his head. Hot pain went down his back. It felt like every nerve hurt. He gasped. He took a big breath. Then it stopped fast.
"It is done," Liora said in a soft voice. "You have been given a skill. Necromancer. You can raise the dead. Any creature you kill can be brought back to serve you. They will obey you fully. But every power has limits. You will find them as you go."
She stepped back. "Now ask your one question."
This was part of his plan. Dante did not wait. "Goddess," he said in a steady voice, "how many of us will make it out of this forest alive?"
Liora's smile was small and tired. "Straight to the point," she replied. "Only six of you will survive. There are six kingdoms in this realm. Each will receive one champion. That is all I can tell you. No more questions. I have many others to see."
She turned away with a small wave. The room smelled of old light. Dante walked out.
The heavy door clicked shut behind him. It sealed the fate of those outside.
When he came back, things were worse. Panic had turned into groups.
One group of at least forty people stayed close like scared animals. They thought numbers would save them. They got quiet when he showed up.
Their looks mixed curiosity, jealousy, and fear.
Necromancer, he thought. It is powerful, but useless without soldiers. I have no army. I can't fight straight on. Right now I am one of the weakest. He needed pawns. He needed choices.
He had read too many stories like this. None of them ended well for people with soft hearts.
He stepped into the center and spoke loud so everyone could hear. "I know what is waiting for us," he said. His voice cut through the air. "I know the hard times ahead. And I know how to survive it."
Some faces showed doubt. Others showed hope.
"These teams you made," he pointed at the group of forty, "are no good. Holding hands will not stop monsters. Most of you will die thinking your friends will protect you."
He added in a quiet and hard voice, "And that friendship will be the thing that kills you."
He kept going. "Forty people is a big number. Only a small part will survive. Mess and betrayal will come first. Teams will turn on teams. People will not wait to kill for survival. That is how it works here."
People started to talk low. Someone shouted, "How do you know that?"
"It does not matter how I know," Dante replied. He looked right at the boy who had yelled. "What matters is this. My team will have the best chance. The rest of you will die in these woods."
A cold quiet came. He was not lying. Only six would live. He planned to be one of them.
"I am forming a team," he said. "I need nine more. Before you ask why ten, listen. The trials will be hard. People will die. I am not building a group of friends. I am building a unit that can take hits and keep going. Some of you will act as shields. That is the trade. If you want a chance to survive, stand with me now."
The silence after that felt heavy. It felt final.
A girl stepped forward first. Erica. She was quiet in college. Her hands shook. "I will join," she whispered.
Masha, student council president, moved up next. She was confident and steady. She put a hand on Erica's shoulder. "Where she goes, I go," Masha said in a simple way.
That broke the wall. Talia, the fencer with short silver hair and sharp eyes, moved up. Rina, the top biology student and quiet thinker, joined without much talk.
Five boys followed fast. Jin, who trained in martial arts. Edgar, an engineering student with fast hands and faster ideas. Juno, the quiet artist holding his sketchbook. Eric, whose stamina lasted longer than most. And Neil, a nerd with survival notes and old sci-fi knowledge.
They lined up behind him. Their faces were set and hard to read.
This is weak, Dante thought. But that is the point. Ten now. Six will survive. I cannot let attachments get in the way. The weak will be cut. That is the rule here.
No mercy. No long goodbyes. Survival first.
Other students came back from the goddess in groups. Each had a new power and a private look. Some were shocked. Some proud.
A few had wasted their one question on if they could go home. They knew the answer now.
His choice had an unexpected effect. A dangerous idea spread like fever. Ten might be important. Maybe ten champions, not six. Maybe he had asked about another way.
Groups changed around that number. Arguments started. Friends yelled at friends.
Old loyalties broke.
Decisions came sharp and ugly.
They are already breaking, he noted with a cold edge.
The Trial of Verdant has not even started.