stakes - gambling with gods.

The next morning, as the first rays of sunlight pierced through the cave entrance, I awoke feeling remarkably better. The potion had indeed worked its magic, expediting my recovery process. I looked over to see David already awake, his injuries visibly improved as well.

"We should continue our journey," David said, his voice filled with determination. "We have no time to waste."

"Wait a minute, I have some burning questions that need answers. Yesterday, instead of prioritizing their own safety and fleeing, they made the selfless decision to save me. I can't help but wonder why they chose to risk their own lives for mine. If everyone had followed their natural instinct and fled for themselves, few might have survived. So, why did they do that?" I eagerly voiced the question that had been haunting my thoughts ever since the events of yesterday unfolded.

As I posed the burning question that had consumed my thoughts since the previous day's events, an air of tension settled in the cave. David took a seat, his weariness evident as he prepared to address my inquiry. He exhaled deeply, as if summoning the strength to unravel the intricate complexities that surrounded our circumstances.

"You see, what transpired yesterday is rooted in a facet of military that is not commonly discussed or taught in the academy. You see when a soldier reaches the level of tier-2 strength, they are required to undergo a rigorous test devised by the empire. This test encompasses various aspects, including physical and mental challenges, as well as assessments of knowledge," David explained, his gaze steady and unwavering.

Leaning forward, he continued. "However, the most critical and final test involves measuring the depth of loyalty one holds towards their superior. To gauge this loyalty, a tier-7 spell is implanted within our minds. This spell not only determines our ranking within the hierarchy of the military when one advances to next tier, but serves another purpose as well."

David's words hung in the air; the weight of their implications palpable. He met my gaze directly, his eyes filled with a mixture of solemnity and determination. "In a situation where we are forced to choose between our own lives and that of our superior, the spell compels us to sacrifice ourselves to ensure your survival. Regardless of your rank or perceived power, unless you attain tier-7 status, this spell is woven into the very fabric of every soldier's being. Our lieutenant, Kane, Damion-they too were bound by its influence. It was our solemn duty, our unwavering obligation, to preserve your life at any cost after their demise."

I listened intently as David unravelled the mystery that had plagued my thoughts since the events of the previous day.

"So, you're saying that the loyalty spell implanted in your minds compels you to prioritize the safety of your superior, me, even at the cost of your own lives?" I sought clarification, my voice tinged with a mix of awe and trepidation.

David nodded in agreement. "Exactly. The empire cannot afford to have soldiers who may turn against them. By instilling this spell within us, they ensure our unwavering loyalty and commitment to their cause. It is a measure taken to maintain order and protect the integrity of the empire. But, that's not the main thing now. Let's get out of here."

As David told me to be prepared to leave the cave before man from day before finds us, his words were interrupted by an unexpected voice reverberating through the cavernous space. We turned our attention towards the source of the sound, and before us stood the man we had encountered the day before, holding something ominous in his hand. His words sent a chill down our spines.

"I hadn't planned on intruding, but since you've already mentioned me, I suppose I shall make my presence known," the man sneered, his voice dripping with malevolence. His footsteps echoed through the cave, heightening the tension that hung in the air.

His menacing figure materialized before us, and his gaze fell upon our vulnerable forms. In his hand, he clutched something that hinted at an unfathomable cruelty. A sinister smile twisted across his face as he addressed us with a sadistic proposition.

"You see, I had intended to spare your lives, but Kellan expressed his dissatisfaction with that decision. However, I am a man of my word. Instead of killing you outright, I shall take a hand from each of you as payment. So, my dear captives, will it be the right hand or the left?"

As the man's sinister words hung in the air, David and I instinctively recoiled, creating as much distance as possible between us and our tormentor. My mind reeled with disbelief, still struggling to comprehend the events that had unfolded the day before. Amidst the chaos, David's urgent question broke through my daze, forcing me to confront the grim reality before us.

"Which hand is your dominant one?" he urgently whispered, his eyes filled with a mix of desperation and determination. "We can't win this fight, but if we act swiftly, a tier-3 mage might be able to regrow our severed hands. Hurry, choose left or right before he takes both."

"Left," I whispered, the word escaping my lips before I could fully process the consequences. My heart pounded in my chest as the realization of what I had just agreed to settled in.

A twisted smile twisted across the man's face; his sadistic pleasure evident in his eyes. "Very well. One left and one right hand it shall be," he declared with a sickening glee. "A complete set of hands, how delightful."

My senses were overwhelmed as he swiftly moved towards me, his blade glinting ominously in the dim light of the cave. Fear and despair threatened to consume me, but before I could react, the searing pain of the blade slicing through my flesh tore through my consciousness.

The world blurred in a haze of agony as I felt warm blood gushing from my severed hand. Nausea surged within me, threatening to overwhelm my senses. The man's sadistic laughter echoed in my ears, mocking my helplessness.

But then, as if in a cruel twist of fate, the man's demeanor shifted. He inexplicably reached into a pocket and pulled out a vial of liquid. With a mocking grin, he poured the mysterious substance over my severed limb. Miraculously, the bleeding slowed, and the excruciating pain dulled to a throb.

"Since it seems you lack any healing potions and are destined for a certain death, allow me to provide a small act of kindness," he sneered, his voice laced with cruel satisfaction. "I shall cauterize your wounds, sealing them to prevent immediate bleeding. Consider it a token of my generosity."

As I looked down at my maimed hand, a mixture of relief and despair washed over me. The wound was temporarily closed.

David, his own hand freshly severed, stood beside me, his face etched with pain. With a dismissive wave of his hand, the man coldly declared, "You can leave now. You're of no use to me anymore." He turned and exited the cave, taking the severed hands with him, leaving us behind in the dimly lit cave.

================================================== End of arc 1 =============================================================

Author's Note - This is end of first arc, dubbed as "Restart Arc". I will be taking break for about a week. Good bye till then:)