[B3]Chapter 183: One Roll After Another

As the armored man's declaration echoed through the arena, a large, two-foot die materialized before them, hovering mid-air. The number facing them was one, as if mocking their chances before the game even began.

“Your turn will be decided based on age. The first to go will be this young man…” the armored man’s voice boomed, his gaze settling on Theo. “Tapping the die will set it in motion.”

Theo let out a sigh, stepping forward as he was chosen to roll first. He hovered his hand before the die, hesitating for a brief moment, then pressed his palm against it.

The moment his hand made contact, the die floated another foot higher, spinning rapidly in mid-air. Numbers flickered from one to six in a blur.

Everyone’s eyes locked onto the die. Even though they were all familiar with rolling dice, the spectacle of this magical version was a first.

When it finally stopped, the die displayed a single glowing number: one.

A red tile materialized in front of Theo with a harsh, foreboding glow.

Theo sighed at his luck. "A one... of course," he muttered, eyeing the red tile with suspicion. It didn’t look welcoming—quite the opposite. It seemed to radiate an ominous energy, as though daring him to step forward.

The white-robed man let out a low, mocking laugh. “Such remarkable luck you've got there, brat,” he sneered, his lips curling in amusement.

Liliana’s cold gaze snapped to his taunts. “Whatever the result today, you won’t be spared.”

Upon hearing her warning, the white-robed man’s smugness faltered. He knew all too well that there would be no escaping the Canorians waiting for him outside this realm.

Theo caught the man’s sour expression, and despite his poor roll, a soft smile tugged at his lips. “That’s the spirit, your Highness.”

He turned toward the red tile, a glint of amusement in his eyes despite the situation. Without a second thought, he stepped forward, placing his foot on the glowing tile.

The moment his foot touched the tile, it buzzed violently with energy. Everyone waited for what would happen next. But then… nothing. No trap, no attack, nothing happened at all. The light faded, and the ominous hum subsided.

Liliana’s brow furrowed, and even the white-robed man’s expression turned serious. The armored man’s eyes narrowed at Theo, clearly puzzled. There was no trickery involved—Theo had followed the rules, and yet the red tile remained silent, with no trap triggered at all.

Theo raised an eyebrow and shrugged. “Guess my luck isn’t all bad.”

Liliana’s turn came next. Her cold focus never wavered as she placed her hand on the die, setting it into motion. The numbers blurred once again before settling on a four. Four tiles, each glowing with a soft blue light, materialized before her as they beckoned her to advance.

Without a word, Liliana stepped forward, crossing the tiles, her gaze flickering between Theo and the path ahead.

Finally, it was the white-robed man’s turn. His roll came up five, and a self-satisfied grin spread across his face as five tiles stretched out before him, giving him an advantage over both Theo and Liliana. He wasted no time in advancing ahead, moving with a smug arrogance.

“Enjoy the view from back there,” he taunted Theo as he moved forward.

Theo’s turn came once more, and, surprisingly, the die landed on one. Again. He stepped onto his third red tile, waiting for the promised trap to spring, but, just as before, nothing happened.

Liliana let out a quiet sigh at his bad luck, rolling her die with a subtle flick of her wrist. The number three appeared, and she calmly advanced to the seventh tile. Her steps were confident, but the slight furrow in her brow revealed her concern for the boy’s continued misfortune.

The white-robed man followed, his turn arriving with a lazy toss of the die. A two appeared, placing him on the seventh tile alongside Liliana. He offered her a cold, humorless smile, but Liliana paid him no attention.

Then, once again, it was Theo’s turn. He tapped the die, giving it a sharp spin, his eyes following its erratic roll. The tension followed as the die spun, only to settle—on one. Silence fell over the group.

Theo glanced at Liliana, her frown deepening as a flicker of frustration crossed her normally composed features. This time, it wasn’t just bad luck—it was starting to feel like a curse.

The white-robed man arched an eyebrow, his amusement barely contained. “Impressive streak,” he drawled mockingly, unable to hide his surprise. Even he hadn't expected Theo’s luck to be so consistently terrible.

Yet, the armored man remained silent. His gaze lingered on Theo for a moment longer, as if contemplating something, but the rules of the realm bound him. He was simply an overseer, powerless to interfere—whether the traps failed to activate or not.

For the next fifteen turns, Theo’s fate remained unchanged. Every roll landed on one. His steps were slow, his progress pitiful.

By now, the others had silently declared him the unluckiest man they had ever ever. At the seventeenth tile, Theo stood far behind the others, his true emotions masked behind a calm expression.

Liliana, now on her fifty-first tile, cast a glance over her shoulder at Theo. She was far ahead, but that distance did little to ease her worry. The white-robed man, standing just ahead on the fifty-fourth tile, seemed equally amused and perplexed by Theo’s streak. Until now, no one, not even him, had rolled a six yet. It was as if the number had become a myth.

Meanwhile, Theo had become something of a “brand ambassador” for rolling ones, as though the realm itself delighted in mocking him.

When his turn came again, Theo spun the die, already expecting the inevitable. Sure enough, the die landed on one. He stepped onto the eighteenth tile, earning no more than a few glances from his opponents.

Liliana's die came to a halt, revealing the number two. She advanced to the fifty-third tile. But all attention soon shifted to the white-robed man as as his turn arrived. The die spun, and for the first time in the game, it stopped on six.

A broad grin spread across the white-robed man’s face, his eyes gleaming with a sinister glint. This was the first six anyone had rolled, and while it was a moment of triumph for him, it spelled danger for the others.

Theo's heart tightened in his chest as his gaze darted to Liliana, who was much farther ahead and, therefore, their opponent’s immediate target.

Liliana, too, understood the gravity of the situation. She braced herself, her posture stiffening as she awaited the inevitable.

The white-robed man turned toward her, his voice dripping with malice as he sneered, “Who will save the princess now?”

The words echoed tauntingly, as he reached into his spatial ring and pulled out several daggers. Each one hummed with mana, vibrating with lethal energy. Without a moment's hesitation, he hurled the daggers toward her, their edges gleaming as they sliced through the air.

Liliana instinctively moved to cast her holy shield, but to her shock, her mana refused to respond. It was as if some unseen force had sealed her abilities the moment the white-robed man’s six had been rolled. Her eyes narrowed, and she shifted her stance, relying solely on her physical agility.

The daggers came fast, leaving her little time to react. With a sharp intake of breath, she sidestepped, turning and twisting to avoid the deadly projectiles. Her movements were quick and graceful, but being confined to the tile made dodging nearly impossible.

The relentless hail of daggers forced her into an unstable stance. In a final effort to avoid the onslaught, she shifted too far. With only one leg still on the tile, the continuous barrage caused her to lose her footing.

Theo’s heart lurched, his pulse hammering in his ears as he watched her tumble. For a split second, fear surged within him, but just before Liliana’s body hit the ground, she vanished.

He whipped around, searching for her, and found her standing eighteen tiles behind him—back at the starting point. The previously materialized tiles ahead of her were gone, leaving only the open space between them.

Liliana’s expression remained composed, though the coldness in her gaze was enough to chill the very air around her. Her fury simmered beneath the surface, but her calmness prevailed. She was not someone easily rattled, even in the face of this setback.

Theo, however, wasn’t so controlled. His gaze swung back toward the white-robed man, the rage simmering beneath the surface now bubbling to the top. His expression was unreadable, but the intent in his eyes was clear—the white-robed man was already a dead man walking.

As the game progressed, five more rolls came and went, with Theo continuing his infuriating streak of ones. By now, he stood on the twenty-third tile, while Liliana was at the twentieth, and the white-robed man had advanced to the seventy-sixth.

Theo’s turn came again, and unsurprisingly, the die landed on one. He sighed as he stepped forward, advancing to the twenty-fourth tile.

Next, Liliana rolled. The number four appeared, and as four tiles materialized, she moved ahead, now standing just beside Theo with only a meter between them.

Far in the distance, the white-robed man cast his die and rolled a five, confidently striding forward to the eighty-first tile. He barely spared them a glance, his focus solely on the finish line.

Theo was about to roll again when he heard a deep, quiet sigh. He turned to see Liliana, her usually composed face wearing a rare, sour expression.

“Is something troubling you, your highness?” he asked, his tone respectful.

Liliana’s gaze shifted toward him, and for the first time, there was a noticeable absence of coldness in her eyes. “You may not be able to leave this place,” she said quietly.

By now, she had fully realized the cruel twist of fate that ensured his every roll brought him nothing but ones. She was certain he would be the one trapped here.

Theo gave her a wry smile, his voice teasing despite the grim situation. “Do not worry about me. I’m just a simple pawn, ready to sacrifice his life for her highness.”

Liliana frowned at his words. “You speak as though we are close.”

“I guess I misread the situation.” Theo replied, feigning hurt.

Her gaze shifted once more toward the white-robed man, who was farther ahead. “If this continues, that man will win,” she muttered. “And I do not wish to compete against you.”

Theo’s playful demeanor faded, his eyes growing more serious. He hadn’t expected Liliana to admit that. She was as fierce as she was cold, rarely showing a crack in her formidable exterior. Yet here she was, voicing her reluctance to face him as an opponent.

After a moment of silence, Theo spoke, his tone devoid of the usual lightness. “I’ll say this only once—he won’t reach the ninety-sixth tile. One way or another, he will fail.”

The sudden firmness in his voice surprised Liliana, causing her to glance at him more carefully. His usual playful demeanor had been replaced with a quiet, unyielding resolve. It made her wonder if this was the same man who had teased her moments ago.

There was something about the way he said it—something unshakable. For a brief moment, she almost believed him. But in the back of her mind, she was still worried, and she couldn’t fathom why she was concerned for this stranger.

Theo rolled again, advancing steadily, though predictably, to the twenty-fifth tile. His streak of ones had become almost routine, yet he moved forward without complaint.

Liliana’s turn followed. With a roll of five, she strode quietly to the twenty-ninth tile. The gap between them and the white-robed man seemed to stretch with each passing turn.

Then came the white-robed man’s turn. The die spun, but when it finally stopped, the familiar number one faced him. A red tile materialized before him, glowing ominously.

He barely blinked, his confidence unshaken. After all, he was close to the finish line. One misstep was hardly worth worrying about. Compared to Theo and Liliana, who were still far behind, he felt invincible. Even if he rolled one continuously, he was certain he'd reach the end before they had a chance to catch up.

With a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, he strode forward, placing his foot on the red tile without a care. But the moment his boot made contact, seven fire bolts materialized in the air before him, hurling toward him with blazing speed.

His confident grin quickly vanished, his face paling as sweat beaded on his brow. The heat was suffocating, enough to turn him into a living barbecue.

In a frantic move, he leaped off the tile, narrowly avoiding the fiery onslaught. Just as he was about to hit the ground, his figure vanished.

Liliana’s eyes widened slightly as she turned back to see the white-robed man now standing at the starting line, his haughty demeanor shattered.

The traps had activated instantly, unlike with Theo, who had somehow avoided them entirely. The white-robed man, however, wasn’t so lucky. The fact that he’d lost his footing and been sent back to the start was almost satisfying to witness.

But then Theo’s earlier words echoed in her mind: ‘I’ll say this only once—he won’t reach the ninety-sixth tile. One way or another, he will fail.’

A silent question stirred within her. ‘Does he know the future?’ Liliana wondered, casting a sidelong glance at Theo, who was now rolling the die again, as calm as ever.

As the game progressed, Theo’s luck held true. He rolled one after another, moving to the fortieth tile, while Liliana advanced more swiftly, reaching the seventy-second step. The white-robed man, now far behind, stood at the thirty-fourth tile, visibly frustrated but still pressing forward.

When Liliana’s turn came again, she rolled a one for the first time. She frowned, but there was no avoiding it. As she stepped onto the red tile, the air around her shifted.

A storm of leaves swirled into existence, violently whipping around her. The force of the wind pushed her off the platform. Before she could regain her footing, she found herself back at the start, the tiles ahead of her vanishing into the void.

Theo’s gaze shifted toward the armored man, whose expression remained hidden beneath his helm.

‘He must be relishing toying with us,’ Theo mused. ‘But he’s going to be disappointed when he learns the truth.’

The game stretched on for another fifteen turns, shifting the positions of the players. Theo stood at fifty-five tiles, Liliana at fifty, and the white-robed man had reached eighty-nine. The end of the game loomed nearer, especially for their enemy.

The white-robed man, now just steps from the finish, rolled his die with barely concealed excitement. But fate had other plans. The die stopped on one.

He stepped onto the red tile only to be met with a giant spectral hand that materialized out of thin air, slapping him forcefully off the tile. His progress was halted once more.

Fifteen more turns passed, and the board had rearranged yet again. Theo now stood at seventy, while the white-robed man, recovering from his fall, lagged behind at forty-seven. Liliana, however, had surged ahead and stood at ninety, just six tiles away from victory. But she had begun to see the pattern—every time they neared the finish line, the traps would inevitably activate.

As if on cue, her next roll also landed on one, and she stepped onto the red tile. Anticipating a devious trap, such as a bolt of fire or a storm of leaves, she deliberately stumbled and fell to avoid it, vanishing from her spot and reappearing at the starting point once more.

The white-robed man, watching from afar, allowed himself a brief moment of celebration. But even he couldn’t shake the creeping suspicion that something was amiss. Why did every attempt to finish the game result in such humiliating setbacks?

On the other hand, Theo remained unbothered, advancing with his steady streak of ones, reaching the seventy-sixth tile without complaint. His gaze briefly flicked to the armored man, who seemed to be watching him with an intense focus, as if Theo were the greatest mystery he had ever encountered.

Though their eyes met, neither spoke. There was an unspoken understanding between them, a silent exchange that didn’t need words.

“You may hide it well, but your tricks won’t win you this trial,” the armored man’s cold voice rang out, breaking the silence.

The words were loud enough for both Liliana and the white-robed man to hear. A small, triumphant smile crept onto the white-robed man’s face. It seemed the armored man had decided to take his side.

The game moved on, another ten turns passing by. Theo stood at eighty-five tiles now, inching closer, while Liliana had barely regained her footing, now at forty-two. The white-robed man, however, had caught up once more, now standing at eighty-nine.

Then, it happened—the white-robed man rolled a six. His face lit up with triumph as he advanced to the ninety-fifth tile, now just one step away from victory.

The thrill of being so close to the end radiated through him, but it wasn’t just the proximity to the finish line that excited him—it was the chance to attack.

He had four seconds to unleash his assault. Four seconds to reset Theo’s position before his inevitable win.

Liliana, standing far behind, immediately sensed the danger. Her cold exterior cracked slightly as concern flickered in her eyes, but there was nothing she could do. The arena's rules bound her, rendering her powerless to aid the boy, even if she wanted to.

The white-robed man’s wicked grin widened, his eyes gleaming with sadistic satisfaction. He turned slowly, relishing the moment as his gaze locked onto Theo. “Time to finish this, brat,” he sneered.