One by one, battered candidates emerged from their chambers, some limping, some roaring in triumph, others clutching wounds that told the story of their defeat. Barnacle strode out next, sweat dripping down his brow, his staff resting against his shoulder. His chest rose and fell heavily, but a grin spread across his face the moment he spotted Avilio. "I told you I'd pass," he said, forcing a laugh despite the bruises along his arms.
All around them, candidates were gathering, murmurs rising like the hum of restless bees. The adjudicators, robed figures marked with the Academy's insignia, stepped forward, their presence silencing the crowd at once. "Now, the real test begins", Barnacle whispered.
"The preliminaries are over," one of them declared. His voice echoed across the stone chamber. "Now begins the Final Measure, the last trial that separates pupils from Specialists. You will fight not only with strength, but with purpose. The Academy seeks hunters who can shape the balance between strength and intellect." A heavy gate at the far end of the chamber began to creak open, its grinding chains sending shivers down spines. Cold air rushed through, carrying the faint scent of iron and earth. Beyond it lay the last arena—larger, darker, and far more ominous than the ones before.
"This is the one where I always fail. Not for my mistakes, but for others." Barnacle muttered as he leaned closer to Avilio, his voice edged with a bitterness that felt too practiced. "Don't think your strength will carry you here. You'll need luck—more luck than skill. This is a team competition."
Avilio blinked, his brows furrowing. Team? Tora hadn't mentioned anything like that. His grip on his sword tightened, though his face betrayed no reaction. The adjudicator raised a hand, silencing the restless murmurs that rippled through the candidates. His tone was sharp, precise, like a blade cutting through air.
"The next trial is called Infinite Maze." A hush fell. Even Barnacle stopped fidgeting.
"You will be split into groups of five, chosen at random," the adjudicator continued. "Each group member will be cast into different sectors of the maze. The task is simple—find your teammates within ten minutes. Only when all five stand united will your group succeed."
The chamber filled with nervous whispers, candidates trading wary glances.
"But," the adjudicator's voice dropped lower, drawing the words out like a verdict, "the maze is not empty. Beasts roam its corridors, hunters of flesh and instinct. If one of you is injured, even grazed enough to be deemed unable to fight, that member is eliminated. And when one falls, the entire team fails."
Barnacle cursed under his breath. "See? It's always someone else."
The adjudicator lifted a finger. "Yet… there is another way."
The gate at the far end groaned, and with it came the faint shimmer of something strange—the image of a black iron door appearing on the stone wall for a heartbeat, then fading away like a mirage.
"A shifting exit. Every ten seconds, the Phantom Door will appear somewhere along the maze walls. It does not wait. It does not repeat. If you find it and pass through, you succeed—alone. But know this: if you abandon your team and flee, you survive, but your teammates fail."
The weight of those words crushed the hall into silence. Candidates looked at each other, suspicion already brewing in their eyes. Barnacle leaned closer to Avilio again, his tone half a laugh, half a sigh. "This is where trust dies. Some will hunt monsters, some will hunt doors, and some will throw their own teammates to the wolves. That's why I said, "You'll need luck, not strength." Avilio's gaze remained fixed on the shimmer of the fading Phantom Door, his jaw tightening. A trial that forces betrayal or unity.
The adjudicator's voice cut through the murmurs again. "Now—candidates, move to your assigned rooms. You will have thirty minutes to strategize with your teammates. Use it wisely, for the maze has no mercy for the unprepared."
The hall erupted into motion. Candidates scanned the numbers on their tags, then drifted off into corridors branching from the main chamber, each path leading to its own sealed stone room. The sound of boots against stone echoed, mingling with the low hum of anticipation and dread.
Avilio glanced down at the slip of parchment given to him, then started walking. His stride was steady, but his thoughts were calculating, measuring. Random teams… this will be troublesome.
The heavy wooden door creaked as he pushed it open. Inside, four figures were already waiting, seated on benches against the wall.
The first one to notice him was Barnacle. His face lit up, the earlier bitterness washed away by relief. "Avilio!" he exclaimed, springing to his feet with surprising energy. "Ha! You're in my group. Finally, some good luck."
Avilio raised an eyebrow but said nothing, stepping into the room. He scanned the others. A lean, sharp-eyed girl with twin daggers strapped to her thighs was watching him intently, not a flicker of emotion on her face. Beside her sat a bulky man with scarred knuckles, arms crossed, clearly more brawler than thinker. The fourth was a quiet boy, younger than the rest, fiddling with a sling in his hands while stealing nervous glances at everyone else. The air was thick with uncertainty, the kind that only strangers thrown together in dangerous games could feel.
Barnacle clapped Avilio on the shoulder like they were longtime comrades. "With you here, we've already doubled our chances. These trials love crushing weaklings, but at least I know you won't fold." Avilio didn't return the smile. Instead, he let his eyes drift to the others, measuring them one by one. So these are the ones I'll have to rely on.
Barnacle rubbed his hands together and looked around the small stone room. "Alright then. If we're stuck together, we might as well know who's who before that maze swallows us." He gestured for the others to speak.
The bulky man leaned forward first, his voice deep and steady. "Name's Korren. I fight with fists. Don't ask me to sneak, don't ask me to think. Just point me at whatever needs to be broken, and I'll handle it." His scarred knuckles flexed as if itching for impact.
The dagger wielding girl shifted in her seat, her voice calm but sharp. "I'm Viera. I work as an assassin for my party. I don't waste words." Her eyes swept across the room, lingering briefly on Avilio, as though she were already testing his worth.
The boy with the sling spoke next, fidgeting as he did. "Uh… I'm Cael. Range support. I don't like close fights, but I can distract or slow monsters if they get too close." His words carried nerves, but there was a spark of determination underneath.
Barnacle thumped his chest. "And I'm Barnacle. Staff wielder, breaker of bones." He grinned, then turned to Avilio. "Your turn, friend."
Avilio straightened, his hand resting lightly on the wooden sword at his side. His voice was calm, almost detached. "Avilio. Swordsman." That was all. No boasting, no elaboration.
The silence that followed was telling Viera smirked faintly, Korren frowned like he was unimpressed, and Cael looked even more nervous. Barnacle, however, clapped his hands again. "Good. We've got strength, speed, range, and steel. If we keep our heads, maybe we can smash this trial."
The silence thickened, no one wanting to speak first. Avilio exhaled slowly, then pushed off the wall. "Fine. If no one's going to start, I will." His eyes moved to Barnacle. "You've done this trial before. Tell us everything you know about the maze."
Barnacle perked up, glad for the chance. "Right. The Infinite Maze isn't just walls and corridors. It's a circular labyrinth built inside a square chamber. Four sides, four walls. On each wall, there are only two things worth noticing: the big glowing timer, and the elimination board. The timer counts down our ten minutes. The board shows who's been knocked out—names vanish the moment they fall."
He leaned forward, his staff across his knees, voice dropping lower as if sharing a secret. "Now here's the tricky part. The maze shifts. Paths close, new ones open, and the moving door can appear anywhere along the outer ring. Every ten seconds, it relocates. You can hear a hum when it spawns, but by the time you reach it, it might already be gone."
Viera crossed her arms. "So we're not just fighting monsters, we're fighting the maze itself."
"Exactly." Barnacle pointed at her, then swung his gaze back to Avilio. "And the monsters aren't weaklings. They're not here to kill us outright, but one good strike and you're 'injured,' which means instant elimination. The academy's way of testing caution and teamwork."
Cael fidgeted with the strap of his sling. "So if one of us goes down, we all fail? Unless someone finds the door."
"Correct," Barnacle said. "That's why most teams fail. Too many heroes trying to fight alone, or cowards sprinting for the door. The academy loves to weed out both."
Korren cracked his knuckles, grinning. "Sounds simple. Stick together, smash whatever comes, don't get hit."
Avilio shook his head. "Not that simple. If we huddle, we move too slow. If we spread too far, we risk being picked off. Balance is the key." He looked around the room, his gaze firm. "So we'll study the layout of the room first. Can anyone help me with the design of the room according to Barnacle's description. I am a bit tired now."
None seemed to be enthusiastic. Barnacle said, "I think all of us are tired after the last trial."
"I can do it." Suddenly Viera raised her hand. "Actually I am not tired. My opponent didn't show up in the last trial, so I can help."
"I think that might be Liam," Barnacle whispered to Avilio.
"So let's get to work", Avilio started the discussion.
The timer on the wall began to glow faintly, signaling the last ten minutes before the trial would begin.