The battlefield was quiet. Too quiet.
Where once there had been roars, screams, and steel clashing against fangs, now there was only the whisper of ash drifting on the wind.
The remains of the Bantings creatures that had torn through so many candidates like paper crumbled into gray dust, coating the cracked stone.
Blood still stained the ground in jagged streaks, reminders that not everyone had dissolved cleanly.
Haruki slumped against a shattered pillar, chest heaving. Every breath burned.
His arms trembled like wet noodles, and his legs felt as though they'd snap if he tried to stand. But his heart his heart was still hammering in his chest, alive in a way he hadn't thought possible.
I'm still here. I didn't die.
He clenched his gauntleted hands. They were scratched, dented, smeared with blood that wasn't his. Somehow, that felt heavier than the exhaustion weighing down his bones.
Around him, fewer than a hundred candidates remained from what had once been hundreds. Some sat slumped in silence, their eyes hollow.
Others wept openly, ignoring the stares. A few, disturbingly calm, were already cleaning and sharpening their weapons, preparing for whatever came next.
Haruki swallowed hard. These weren't kids playing a game. Everyone here had either killed or survived while others didn't. That thought chilled him more than the cold air brushing his sweat-drenched skin.
"Not bad for a guy who looked like he was going to faint the whole time."
Haruki jerked his head up. Kana strolled past, casually flicking an arrowhead clean on her sleeve. Emerald hair gleamed under the waning light, and her grin carried not an ounce of the weariness dragging at everyone else.
Haruki forced a tired smile. "Thanks… for saving me back there."
Kana tilted her head, smirk widening. "Save you? Please. I was betting you'd last at least ten minutes before keeling over. Looks like I won." She jingled her pouch of coins loudly, deliberately.
Haruki blinked. "…You were gambling on me?"
Kana winked. "Survival's boring without a little entertainment."
[Note: Ally acquired. However, probability suggests said ally values profit over your continued existence.]
Haruki groaned under his breath. "Yeah, I already figured that out…"
Rai stood some distance away, alone in the middle of the ruined field. His daggers were planted in the dirt, and his eyes were closed in meditation. Faint sparks still clung to the blades, the air around him carrying the sharp bite of ozone.
Even in stillness, he looked dangerous. Focused. Unshaken.
When he finally opened his eyes, they locked with Haruki's. His voice was flat, cold.
"You're reckless."
Haruki bristled, pushing himself upright against the pillar. "I survived, didn't I?"
"Barely." Rai's gaze sharpened, a flicker of judgment passing across his face. "Luck won't carry you through the next trial. Learn control, or you'll drag everyone around you into the grave."
Haruki clenched his jaw. The words stung because he knew they were true. He wanted to argue, but before he could.
"Well, well, well."
A mocking voice cut through the tense silence.
A tall boy strolled forward, his every step dripping arrogance. Slick black hair, eyes like cold steel, and a uniform marked with a silver crest that gleamed proudly on his chest.
The emblem wasn't just decoration it was recognition. The boy came from a hunter family. A noble one.
Two lackeys trailed behind him, smirking like vultures.
"How inspiring," the boy drawled, his tone sharp as a blade. "The weakling survived the first trial. I was almost certain you'd be Banting food."
Haruki's stomach twisted, but he forced himself not to flinch.
Kana muttered beside him, "Uh oh. The peacocks have arrived."
"My name is Kuro," the boy continued, his smirk widening as he looked Haruki up and down. "Remember it well. Because tomorrow, I'll make sure you don't survive the second trial."
Haruki's fists clenched so hard his knuckles ached. He wanted to shout back, to wipe that smug expression from Kuro's face
[Warning: Enemy flag raised. Rivalry probability: 92%. Death probability if you provoke now: 100%. Suggest tactical silence.]
Grinding his teeth, Haruki stayed quiet.
Kuro smirked, satisfied with the lack of resistance, and turned away. His cronies snickered as they followed.
Kana crossed her arms, glaring after them. "That one's trouble."
Rai's expression didn't change. His tone was curt, almost dismissive. "Stay away from him. He's dangerous."
Haruki exhaled slowly, forcing his hands to relax. If everyone here underestimates me… maybe I can use that to my advantage.
The survivors were herded into stone barracks carved into the cliffside. The place smelled of damp rock and iron, the torches along the walls sputtering weak flames that painted everything in shadows.
Dozens of candidates collapsed onto rough straw mats. Some groaned from wounds, others whispered in hushed voices, trading rumors about the next trial.
A few just stared blankly at the ceiling, eyes hollow, as if their spirits had already been crushed.
Haruki lay on his back, staring at the cracks in the stone overhead. His body screamed in protest every muscle aching, his chest still raw from panting through the fight. But his mind wouldn't rest.
The moment he closed his eyes, he saw it again. The Banting's fangs tearing into a boy's throat. The blood spraying. The way the body had crumpled, lifeless, before dissolving into ash.
His stomach churned. His hands trembled.
[User emotional state: unstable. Elevated heart rate, shallow breathing.]
Haruki groaned, pulling the scratchy blanket over his head. "Not now, Zero…"
[Suggestion: cry quietly into pillow to avoid ridicule from peers.]
"…You're the worst support system ever."
[Correction: I'm the most honest. That is more valuable than comfort.]
Haruki let out a shaky laugh despite himself. "Yeah. Thanks, I guess."
Silence followed. Only the creak of beds and distant whispers filled the barracks. For a moment, Haruki thought Zero had powered down.
Then the voice returned, softer this time. Almost hesitant.
[But… you did well today. Better than I calculated.]
Haruki blinked. His breath caught in his throat. That almost sounded like encouragement.
"…Wait. Was that a compliment?"
[Negative. Merely a correction of initial assessment. Statistical error acknowledged.]
Haruki smiled faintly into the darkness. "Right. A statistical error."
His eyelids grew heavier. For the first time since the battle, his mind settled just enough for sleep to tug at him. The fear was still there, but so was something else.
A spark.
He wasn't strong. He wasn't skilled. But he'd survived when others hadn't. And tomorrow, he'd do it again.
At least, that's what he told himself as he finally drifted off.
At dawn, the survivors were marched back into the wide stone plaza. The sun was pale and cold above them, and the air carried the metallic tang of dried blood still clinging to the arena.
Haruki stood in the crowd, nerves twisting in his gut. Fewer than a hundred candidates remained. Everyone was silent, waiting.
Then she appeared the crimson-haired woman from before, the Hunter instructor. She strode forward, her long braid swaying, eyes glowing like molten gold. Her presence cut through the murmurs like a blade.
"You survived," she said, her voice carrying easily. "Good. But strength alone is not enough. Hunters who cannot think are corpses waiting to happen."
She raised her hand.
The earth rumbled.
Before the crowd's eyes, the ground split apart and rose. A vast labyrinth surged upward, towers of black stone climbing toward the clouds, walls twisting and shifting as if alive. Runes crawled across its surface like veins.
Gasps rippled through the survivors.
"This," the woman declared, "is the Labyrinth of Driath. Inside, you will find Bantings… but they are not your true enemy. The labyrinth itself will test you. It shifts, traps, and devours the careless."
She let the words hang, letting the weight settle. Then her lips curled into something that was not quite a smile.
"Your task is simple: reach the exit before nightfall. But there is a condition. Only teams of three will be allowed to pass. Lone wolves will not survive."
The crowd erupted. Candidates scrambled instantly friends clasping hands, clans locking together, alliances formed in seconds. The air became frantic, desperate.
Haruki froze. His chest clenched. He had no one.
[Alert: User status—"Unwanted." Probability of being abandoned: 100%.]
"Not helping," Haruki muttered.
Just as the panic threatened to crush him, a familiar jingle of coins rang at his side.
"Looks like you owe me, weakling."
Haruki blinked. Kana stood there, twirling a coin on her finger. Her emerald hair gleamed under the morning sun, and her grin was as sharp as ever. "Congratulations you're stuck with me."
Before Haruki could respond, Rai appeared, sheathing his daggers with a sharp click. "Tch. Fine. I'll join too. Someone has to keep you both from dying."
Haruki's mouth fell open. "…Wait, you two actually want me on your team?"
Kana smirked. "Don't flatter yourself. You're cannon fodder."
Rai added flatly, "But you're stubborn. That counts for something."
Something warm flickered in Haruki's chest despite their words. For the first time since stepping into this world, he wasn't completely alone.
[Team acquired. Survival probability increased by 27%. Death probability: still high.]
Haruki rolled his eyes. "I'll take it."
The labyrinth gates groaned open, darkness yawning beyond.
The instructor's voice thundered: "Begin the second trial! Survive… or be consumed."
Haruki's gauntlets flared to life, blue light dancing across his hands. His heart pounded not with fear, but with something fiercer.
"Let's go," he whispered.
And with that, Haruki, Kana, and Rai stepped into the living maze.