Crown of Thorns

Chapter 2: The Iron Pit

The air was cold, biting against Ji-Hoon's skin as he was led deeper into the bowels of the castle. The warmth of the palace was a distant memory, replaced by the damp chill of stone and shadow. The guards flanked him on either side, their expressions grim, offering no comfort. Ji-Hoon's heart pounded in his chest, each step echoing like a death knell in his ears.

They descended a narrow staircase, spiraling down into the darkness below the castle. The walls were rough and uneven, lit only by the faint glow of torches that flickered as they passed. The air grew heavier, thick with the scent of earth and something else—something metallic, like blood.

Ji-Hoon's hands were bound in front of him with rough rope, the fibers cutting into his soft flesh. The prince's breath came in shallow gasps, his mind racing with the horror stories he had heard about the Ritual of Iron. He had always thought they were just that—stories. Tales meant to frighten disobedient children into submission. But now, faced with the reality of it, he realized just how wrong he had been.

At the bottom of the stairs, they entered a wide chamber, its walls lined with iron chains and cruel-looking implements that glinted ominously in the dim light. The floor was covered in dirt and scattered with small bones—whether of animals or men, Ji-Hoon could not tell. His stomach churned with fear.

In the center of the chamber was a deep pit, surrounded by a crude wooden fence. The pit was dark and foreboding, its depths hidden from view. The guards led Ji-Hoon to the edge, and he peered down, his heart seizing at what he saw.

The bottom of the pit was filled with jagged rocks and broken shards of metal, their edges sharp enough to cut through flesh. The rocks were slick with something wet and dark—blood, Ji-Hoon realized with a sickening lurch. The smell of it rose up to meet him, cloying and foul.

One of the guards stepped forward, his voice cold and emotionless. "This is the beginning of your trial, Prince Ji-Hoon. You must climb out of the pit on your own, using nothing but your hands and feet. If you fail, you will remain here until you succeed—or die."

Ji-Hoon's legs trembled beneath him, his knees threatening to buckle. "I—I can't," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "Please, I'm not strong enough..."

The guard's expression did not change. "That is for the ritual to decide."

Before Ji-Hoon could protest further, the guards seized him by the arms and threw him into the pit. He fell with a cry, his body slamming into the jagged rocks below. Pain exploded through him, white-hot and searing, as the sharp edges tore into his skin. He lay there, gasping for breath, the taste of blood filling his mouth.

For a moment, Ji-Hoon could only lie still, his body wracked with pain. His arms and legs were bloodied and torn, the sharp rocks having sliced through the thin fabric of his tunic. His once soft and pampered skin was now a mass of cuts and bruises, each breath sending a fresh wave of agony through his body.

The guards stood at the edge of the pit, watching him with impassive eyes. "Climb," one of them ordered, his voice echoing in the chamber.

Ji-Hoon's vision swam with pain, but he forced himself to move. He reached out with trembling hands, grasping at the nearest rock. The surface was slick with blood—his own, he realized—and his fingers slipped, his hand coming away sticky and wet. He tried again, gritting his teeth against the pain, and this time he managed to pull himself up a few inches.

But the effort was too much. His arms gave out, and he fell back into the pit, his body slamming into the rocks once more. He screamed, the sound raw and desperate, but the guards did not react. They only watched in silence, waiting for him to try again.