The Author's Viewpoint-Chapter 69 - All of Us or None

Everyone fell silent again. Especially Orion and the defender who had just clashed moments earlier. And just like that, as if reacting to their stillness, the statues stopped moving. They froze mid-step, weapons poised in the air, motionless once more.

The defender collapsed to the floor, sweat pouring down his face. His breathing shallow, and his eyes wide with raw fear.

No one spoke. All eyes, without meaning to, drifted toward the glowing circle in the center of the chamber. It was like gravity. Drawing both their attention and their dread.

Who would be sacrificed?

If no decision was made, then in the final seconds, the strongest would bolt toward the circle, and the weakest would be left behind. That truth settled like ice in their bones. Whispers of panic returned, soft and broken.

"If we don’t choose... someone else will make the choice for us," someone muttered, voice trembling.

Oriana remained still, silent, her brows furrowed deep in thought. "There has to be another way. We can’t just offer up our lives like this... This has never happened before. Not like this."

"We don’t have time," another voice replied.

Panic spread like wildfire. People started shifting, inching forward. Then one moved faster. Others followed, tension snapping. The moment of control shattered.

"I said stay still!" Orion roared.

But it was already too late. One person broke into a run.

And instantly, one of the statues snapped to life, moving faster than anyone could’ve expected. It lunged forward with terrifying speed, lifting its massive greatsword and swinging it in a wide, deadly arc.

"Look out!"

Everyone ducked at once. The blade roared overhead, carving through the air with a monstrous force that could’ve cleaved a body in two.

"Don’t move! Don’t panic!" Oriana shouted, her voice shaking but loud enough to cut through the chaos.

"The more we run, the faster they’ll come! This is a trap. They’re trying to make us destroy ourselves!"

Her eyes darted around, pleading silently for the others to listen.

But time was running out, and the fear in the room was only getting worse.

"If we start fighting each other, the statues will kill us all before any of this ends," Elias said suddenly, his voice cutting through the madness.

"Shut up, Elias," Orion snapped back. "Because you’re the one I’ll kill. And the one I’ll make sure gets left behind."

But it was already spiraling out of control. The panic had rooted itself deep, and now no one was thinking clearly. People were moving. Shuffling, inching away, glancing at the circle, looking at each other like enemies instead of teammates.

And then it got worse.

The statues... they began to move again.

Not in reaction this time. Not triggered by motion. They moved on their own—slow at first, then with purpose. The illusion was gone. It didn’t matter whether they moved or not. The statues were coming for them.

"They’re going to attack us!"

And still, the voice echoed above all else.

"Fifteen!" it shrieked, twisted with laughter. "You won’t make it out alive! Die by my statues... or leave three of your own behind!"

The chamber had become a pressure cooker, boiling with fear and tension. The countdown kept falling. And there was no sign of mercy coming.

Some of them started moving again. Desperation etched across their faces. But Orion stood his ground. His blade lashed out, blocking their path. The clash of steel rang out as Elias met his attack, their weapons grinding together in a brief but heated exchange.

"Stop it, Lord Orion!" someone cried out, voice trembling. "You’ll kill your own allies!"

"So what?" Orion growled. His eyes locked on Elias. "You planning to sacrifice yourself? Want to die for the rest of them? I’ll be happy to help make that happen."

Without warning, Orion lunged again, his sword flashing toward Elias, who barely managed to block it in time. Around them, the statues continued to close in. Their massive bodies looming like towers of death.

Their heavy steps pounded against the stone floor, forming a slow, menacing rhythm. Now, they were encircling the team, their weapons raised high.

Someone dropped to their knees, clutching their head, whispering frantically.

"This isn’t happening. This can’t be real!"

"We’re going to die here... we’re not getting out!"

"Please... someone... do something!"

"I don’t want to die. I don’t want to be left behind!"

"This is a nightmare. This isn’t fair!"

The air grew thick with panic, and sobs started breaking through the noise.

"Ten seconds left!" it shrieked. "All of you will die if you don’t choose! You will all bleed for me!"

The statues were drawing in. Closer and closer. Until there was almost no space left between them and the group. Their towering bodies loomed like stone giants, weapons raised, and now the glowing circle at the center was completely blocked off. There was no more path. No more escape.

"Five seconds left... your choice has been made!" the shrill voice screamed. "You’ll all die for your foolishness!"

The countdown continued, merciless.

Still, chaos reigned among them. Orion and Elias were still locked in furious combat. Their blades clashing again and again, sparks flying as they shouted over one another. The others lay scattered. Some curled on the floor, paralyzed by fear, some trembling, some openly weeping. It was as if the will to act had been drained out of them.

"Three seconds! You’re already dead! Hahaha!"

"Two..."

The statues stopped in place. Surrounding them now in a perfect circle. Their massive blades glinted in the light, each poised for a single, devastating swing.

Eight of them. Trapped. No decision made.

And the voice, filled with twisted delight, was ready to claim them all.

"One!"

The shriek pierced the chamber like a dagger, louder than before, filled with triumph. As if death was inevitable.

But then... Every single one of them moved.

In that fraction of a second, they all stood, eyes sharp and focused, bodies snapping into action. Hands flashed through a flurry of complex seals.

It happened in a blink.

And then, chaos.

Weapons drawn, they scattered outward in perfect formation, and with a surge of will, they unleashed a storm of elemental magic. Fire erupted in coiling spirals. Ice lances shattered the air with piercing screams. Blazing fire cracked like the fury of gods. Wind blades howled as they spun, while spears of stone burst from the ground like jagged teeth.

Explosions rocked the chamber. One after another. Each more deafening than the last. Flames engulfed the statues, water surged with cutting force. The earth trembled under the weight of their combined power. Crystal dust and smoke choked the air as the cavern shook with the force of their assault.

The statues—those towering, silent sentinels—couldn’t withstand it.

Massive limbs were obliterated. Helmets cracked like brittle shell. Armor, once untouched for centuries, split open as the ancient guardians fell. One after another, they shattered, toppling, crumbling, collapsing into heaps of rubble and magic-scarred ruin.

And then... silence.

The shrill voice that had dominated the chamber. The countdown, the threats, the laughter, was gone. Snuffed out mid-sentence, as if stunned into silence.

As the dust slowly cleared, the faint light of the mana crystals began to return. And in the heart of the destruction, eight figures stood tall. Unmoving. Weapons drawn. Eyes unwavering.

Like they had planned this all along!