Chapter 46: A Proper Burial

"Wait... Hershey, what do you mean by that?"

Raive couldn’t help but ask, confused.

He should’ve been trying to cheer her up, to help her trust her own skill more, but now she was telling him to leave her there to die? There was no way he’d accept that!

"Raive, I know you already know too. That only one can survive in this dungeon." She said, smiling thinly.

Her grip around his neck was loosening, and panic shot through him as he moved his other hand to lock her arms in place.

"Stop talking nonsense!" Raive roared. "We’re both getting out of here, so don’t lose hope!"

Of course, Raive had already guessed as much after reading the riddle carved into the door. And honestly, it didn’t bother him much, since he could always load back to the start and try again.

But he refused to let her die for nothing. If possible, he wanted to reach the end, grab the candies and whatever else was useful, before loading back.

"No..."

But Hershey wouldn’t back down either.

"If I’m still here... then brother, you’ll end up choosing to die alone, drinking the Rotten Rose Poison."

"...!"

A chill ran down Raive’s spine. There should’ve been no way for her to know that—unless she’d actually seen him do it. That only made him more curious.

What exactly was her skill letting her see?

Was it precognition, some actual future-sight skill rather than the one he’d "claimed" as his own? But that didn’t explain her ability to heal.

"My skill is called Chronos."

To his surprise, Hershey confessed it herself.

"It lets me control time. I can push forward or pull back the time of anything I touch, or see into the future, or revisit the past."

"Chronos..."

Raive was floored.

Just by the name alone, the skill sounded nearly on par with his own Auto-Load. And it sounded cooler, too—a name borrowed straight from the god of time, the power to bend time itself across every discipline!

’No doubt Chronos himself gave her that skill.’ Raive thought.

If gods existed simply because people believed in them, then every god ever recorded, good or evil, had to exist somewhere. And those were the very gods who’d started this death game in the first place, all fighting to fill an empty seat.

It wouldn’t be strange if others like Hershey were walking around with god-tier skills of their own.

"I’ve already seen every future ahead of us. And even if I survive, I still die eventually." She went on.

"That’s why, Raive... just leave me here and get out on your own. Finish the trials, become a god, and have them grant your wish. I’m sure someone with a skill like mine could do it."

"..."

Raive was certain that even if he slipped up, he’d never tell anyone about his skill. Even now, knowing she was willing to die for him, he stayed silent.

So her calling their skills similar was nothing but a guess. A guess that landed far too close to the truth.

Still, he smiled, feet moving without pause.

"I told you, just trust me. We’ll all make it out, I promise." He said. "And I always keep my promises."

"Brother..."

Something warm and wet dropped against the back of his neck.

He didn’t even bother turning to look, thinking he already knew what it was. Until the sharp scent of iron hit his nose.

"Hershey...?!"

Realization came too late.

When he finally stopped, she already had a bloody dagger in hand, and a wound cut clean across her neck. She’d stabbed herself—no, sliced her own carotid, precise enough that no healing could bring her back.

"No... Why would you do something so stupid!" Raive gritted his teeth, easing her down onto the ground.

By nothing but his helmet’s light, he could see how pale her face had already gone. Cold sweat beaded across her forehead, yet the smile on her lips never wavered.

"...If you... keep carrying me... the monsters will catch up." She wheezed. "Now... without the extra weight... you can clear this dungeon for sure. Please... live for my share too..."

"You... stupid girl!" Raive cursed.

But there was truly nothing he could do. Pressure wouldn’t help—the cut was clean through the carotid. Even if he stopped the bleeding outright, her brain would still starve for oxygen and shut down in under a minute.

Raive had never felt so powerless.

Even with his sky-high stats, he couldn’t save one little girl.

"Ah... Mom... Dad... I’ll see you soon...!"

"...!"

Raive could only watch as her tears fell, the smile on her face slowly stiffening, until her body, her breathing, went completely still. Her last long breath rang loud in his ears, filling him with anger and guilt in equal measure.

"Kuh...!"

BAM!

He slammed his fist into the floor, cracking the tile on impact.

He thought her choice had been beyond foolish for someone who could see the future. But at the same time, he understood the reasons behind it weren’t simple at all.

The family she’d already lost, the fear of losing this new one, and the crushing weight of a dungeon that let only one survive.

It was too much for a girl her age to carry, and it had pushed her toward the wrong call.

"Hershey..." Raive finally steadied himself and rose.

In the distance, he could already hear the whip-crack of vine-limbs closing in. They were gaining fast.

"Your death won’t mean nothing." He said, anger in his voice. "I’ll survive this dungeon, and—"

He lifted her body, turned forward, and roared.

"You’ll get a proper burial!"

The checkpoint could wait.

He knew full well how foolish this looked. Even with Hershey dead, he could see her alive again the moment he loaded back. But he couldn’t stomach the thought of leaving her behind.

No matter how hard it got.

No matter how much it cost him in injuries or lost ground.

He wasn’t going to abandon what he’d decided.

"HUUUUUURGH!"

And with everything he had, heedless of the risk of his muscles snapping, he ran.