Lioran cast a calm yet heavy gaze over the adventurers. They all had their heads lowered; shoulders hunched, glances stolen, no one daring to meet his eyes—as if they wished they could simply disappear.
Not wanting to drag out the silence, Lioran spoke.
"Well… you've got two choices."
A ripple of murmurs passed through them. A few lifted their heads slightly, almost without realizing it. Until now, they had all believed there was only one way to survive—submission. Hearing "two choices" sparked something fragile within them; a faint, trembling hope.
Lioran paused for a moment, then continued.
"The easy one… is becoming my dogs."
The reaction was instant.
Heads snapped up. Faces drained of color, eyes wide with terror. Before they could even think, panic burst out of them:
"The hard way—please, the hard way…!"
"The hard way! We'll take the hard way…!"
Anahita watched the scene and couldn't hold back. A sharp, mocking laugh slipped from her lips.
"Looks like these pathetic things would rather die than serve you…"
Lioran ignored her completely. His cold gaze swept across their faces—lingering on that fragile, desperate hope flickering in their eyes.
Then, in a quiet, chilling voice, he spoke again.
"So you've chosen the hard way, huh? Fine. I don't have a problem with that. To be honest… this way I'm even happier. Because the hard way means I'll beat you until your brains finally get into place and you choose the simple way yourselves, and become my loyal dogs."
The color drained from their faces. A few instinctively stepped back. Lioran clenched his right fist, struck it against his left palm, and took a step toward them.
"Alright… let's go try the hard way, then."
That single step toward them was enough. The line broke apart, voices cracked, pleas spilled out uncontrollably.
"The easy way…!"
"Please, the easy way, my lord…!"
"We choose the easy way…!"
Lioran stopped right there. He let out a quiet sigh—a sigh that sounded more like disappointment than exhaustion.
"Idiots… you should have chosen the easy way from the start. You've upset your master."
The adventurers' hope of escaping Lioran's grasp crumbled again, and their heads fell once more.
Lioran took in their state—bowed heads, broken arms, bodies still trembling with fear.
He stretched out his hand toward them and said in a cold voice.
"Divine Healing."
Suddenly, light erupted from all sides of the adventurers' bodies—bright, warm light, like the sun rising after an endless night.
Their eyes widened in astonishment.
"What is this light?"
"Why is my body glowing?"
"Don't tell me… we've all died?"
Then the warmth of the magic spread through them; a pleasant, soothing warmth.
"It's so warm…"
"This light feels so peaceful…"
"I've never felt anything this good before…"
The pain gradually receded. Broken bones knit back together, shoulders popped back into place, arms regained life.
"Hey… is it just me, or is your pain disappearing too?"
"Yeah… my pain is going away too."
"Oh my god… I can move my arms again!"
"Me too… my arms are healed."
"How is that even possible? Who healed us?"
"Oh my god… thank you… my arms… they're whole again…"
The light slowly faded away.
And just as the group stood there trembling—caught between the relief of being healed and the fragile peace that came with it—Lioran's voice cut through the moment like a blade, shattering it instantly.
"Who gave you permission to speak… hm?"
His gaze settled on Achino.
"You. Big idiot. Who told you to stand up? Want me to break your legs this time?"
The echo of his voice swept through the hall like a cold wind.
In that instant, everyone remembered—
the source of their fear was still standing right in front of them.
The color drained from Achino's face, and he immediately dropped back to the ground.
The adventurers, who for a brief moment had been pulled out of their terror by Lioran's magic, were dragged back to reality. Silence fell over them again, heavy and suffocating, while one thought lingered in every mind:
'…Did he just heal us?'
Arezo stared at Lioran in confusion and disbelief.
'How is this possible? He uses a sword… and controls both fire and light… What exactly are you?'
Siko let out a bitter laugh inwardly.
'After that terrifying aura… nothing about him can surprise me anymore.'
The group's healer stared at Lioran in stunned disbelief. As a healer herself, she understood better than anyone how unnatural what she had just witnessed truly was.
'Healing this many people… without even chanting a spell? What is he… some god descended to earth?'
But then another image flashed across her mind—
Siko's arms being broken.
Arezo's face slammed against the table.
She instantly swallowed the thought.
'No… no, that can't be it. He's more like a god of demons…'
Ignoring their stunned expressions, Lioran spoke in a cold, indifferent voice.
"I'm sure your heads are full of questions right now… like why I even bothered keeping idiots like you alive."
Arezo muttered bitterly in her mind:
'No… that wasn't actually one of them.'
Lioran continued.
"Before you make your choice, I'll allow you one question. Ask me anything, and I'll answer honestly."
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"After that, you can decide whether you'll become my dogs willingly… or whether I'll beat you until you beg for it."
Without another glance at them, he turned and walked across the hall.
"You have five minutes. Talk among yourselves. Decide what you want to ask."
He sat down in a chair by the wall, crossed one leg over the other, rested his left arm on the armrest, tilted his head slightly, and placed his chin against his right hand.
Then his cold voice rang through the hall once more.
"Hurry up."
The adventurers, their freshly healed hands still trembling, gathered together in a tight cluster. They whispered among themselves in low, uneasy voices, quietly debating what to ask. Not one of them even considered running away; the thought never crossed their minds. Their only concern was choosing the right question—the one that would help them decide what to do next.
After several minutes of hushed discussion, they stepped forward as one. Their line was uneven, but they stood united.
At the front was Arezo, blood still streaking her face, fear lingering in her eyes. Behind her, the others stood in tense silence, their anxious gazes fixed ahead.
Drawing in a deep breath, Arezo spoke for them all. Her voice trembled with pain, but it did not break.
"Please tell us… if we become your loyal followers, what orders will you give us? What exactly… do you want us to do?"
Lioran tilted his head slightly.
A brief silence followed—heavy and sharp.
Then his voice spread through the hall like cracking ice.
"Loyal followers? Don't make me laugh…"
He paused, letting his cold gaze pass over each of them.
"You're nothing more than dogs with no choice but to serve me. So don't call yourselves followers. You may call yourselves loyal followers only after you've proven you deserve it. After everything you've done, even the title of dog is far too generous for you."
Upon hearing these words, none of the adventurers became angry. Instead, what appeared on their faces was sorrow—heavy, quiet sorrow rather than rage. It was as though every word Lioran spoke had torn open wounds buried deep inside them, wounds they had always known were there, yet had never found the courage to face.
"The fact that none of you even got angry at what I said… shows that you yourselves know you're worth less than a dog."
Every head lowered.
No one dared to say anything. Deep in their hearts, they knew Lioran was speaking the truth. Fear of him, mixed with the crushing weight of shame, sealed their mouths shut.
Then, in the suffocating silence, Lioran's voice rose again.
"But that's good…"
At those words, every head lifted at once. Surprise and confusion spread across their faces, their eyes locking onto him in disbelief. None of them had expected such a thing to come from his mouth.
Lioran's cold gaze moved slowly across each of their faces. Then he continued, his tone no softer than before—calm, even, and heavy, every word striking like iron against stone.
"That is good… because at least you know where you stand.
It does not matter how low a person is. It does not matter if they are beneath even a dog. The moment someone fails to understand their true place, whether they stand high or low, they are destined to fall.
They become trapped in endless pain and misery, because they keep trying to place themselves where they do not belong. And in doing so, they wound not only themselves, but everyone around them as well.
But when a person truly recognizes where they stand… that is when they can begin to grow.
First, they rise into becoming a loyal dog.
Then grow more—into a loyal servant. Grow again—into a comrade, a friend… and finally, into a member of a family."
The adventurers stared at him in stunned silence.
It was hard to believe this was the same man who only moments ago had turned their world into a living hell before their eyes.
Yet now, in their trembling eyes, a faint but undeniable light began to appear—something fragile, caught between understanding, hope, and a deep aching longing.
Contrary to everything they had expected, Lioran's words had gone far beyond pain or humiliation.
They had pierced through flesh and pride alike… and reached their hearts.
After a few moments of silence, Lioran's calm, distant gaze settled upon the adventurers. Without the slightest change in expression, he answered their question. His voice remained flat and emotionless, yet every word carried a quiet, crushing weight.
"Now, let us return to the question you asked… what orders I will give you.
In truth, it is a good question. And the answer is simple.
Do not worry—I will not force you to do anything. If, for any reason, you dislike an order, you may say so and refuse it.
And do not misunderstand… I have no real need for the help of fools like you. In fact, if I were to drain your life energy here and now, it would benefit me far more than keeping any of you alive."
Those words struck like stones against their hearts.
A crushing sense of worthlessness settled over the adventurers, heavy and suffocating. The color drained from their faces, and sorrow darkened their eyes, but none of them dared to speak.
Lioran paid no attention to the pain his words caused. His gaze remained cold as ever as he continued:
"The only reason I allowed you to live… the only reason I gave you a second chance to repay your mistakes… is because of someone I recently lost.
That is why you are still breathing.
So be grateful to her."
As the final words left his mouth, he slowly extended one hand toward them.
At once, a vast black magic circle spread beneath the adventurers' feet.
Dark and immense, it covered the ground like a living shadow. Strange symbols and ancient spells, written in an unknown language, glowed faintly along its edges, pulsing with ominous energy.
Uneasy murmurs immediately rose among the group.
"Oh my god…! What is this?"
"Where did this magic circle come from?"
"Why is it so huge…?"
Their voices trembled with fear as they stared down at the circle beneath them.
Lioran kept his hand raised, his expression unreadable.
"This circle," he said coldly, "is to ensure that none of you betray me.
So do not be afraid.
As long as there is no betrayal… nothing will happen to you."
Some of the anxiety eased from the adventurers' hearts, though uneasy glances still lingered on the dark magic circle beneath their feet. The black symbols pulsed faintly, casting trembling shadows across their faces.
Lioran let the silence stretch for a moment before speaking again.
"Well… now the choice is yours. Do you want to accept this second chance and join me in one of the greatest adventures of your lives, or…"
He never finished the sentence.
Before the last word could fully leave his lips, every one of them dropped to their knees without hesitation. The sound of knees striking stone echoed through the hall like a single united vow. Their heads bowed low, and one voice—formed from many—rose together, steady and unwavering:
"We choose the first option, my lord."
For a moment, silence followed.
Then Lioran gave a small nod, his expression unchanged, yet a trace of satisfaction passed through his cold eyes.
"You made a good choice."
At once, the inscriptions within the magic circle flared alive.
The strange runes began to move, writhing like living shadows as they crept upward from the floor and coiled around the adventurers' bodies like dark threads. The sensation sent shivers through their skin—cold, unnatural, and heavy—yet none of them moved. Not one raised their head. Not one resisted.
It was as if, in that instant, they had surrendered themselves completely to his will.
Deep down, all of them understood one simple truth:
Lioran had spoken honestly.
If he had wished to kill them, their deaths would have served him far better than their lives ever could.
And yet… he had chosen to spare them.
That alone was enough for trust to take root where fear had once ruled.
Standing nearby, Anahita watched the kneeling adventurers in silence. Her gaze shifted to Lioran, seated calmly in his chair, chin resting against one hand, his cold eyes fixed upon those before him like a king judging the worth of souls.
A quiet breath escaped her lips as she murmured in amazement:
"As always… you've turned the impossible into reality once again."