Chapter 70: Monthly Exam, The Abyssal Labyrinth

Dawn broke over the Holy Vanguard Academy. A bitter frost clung to the white

cobblestones of the teleportation courtyard.

Thousands of freshmen gathered in the biting cold. Their breath plumed in the air, mingling with the sharp, metallic tang of concentrated spatial magic.

Saile stood near the back of the plaza with the twelve misfits of Class F. He slouched, burying his hands in the pockets of his cheap linen trousers. The silver elven choker pressed tightly against his throat, maintaining the dull, pathetic yellow spark of his fake Light aura.

The monthly survival exam had arrived.

"I cannot sense the bottom," Elian whispered.

The blind runecrafter leaned heavily on his wooden staff. His knuckles were white. Beneath his gray blindfold, his sightless eyes darted nervously. He was reading the ambient mana currents beneath the academy floor, trying to map the structure below.

"It goes down forever," Elian continued, his voice trembling. "It feels like standing on the edge of an open grave."

"It is a grave," Riya muttered.

The red-haired beast tamer crossed her arms. The translucent desert centipede crawled lazily across her collarbone. She glared at the wealthy nobles congregating near the front of the courtyard.

"They send us into the Abyssal Labyrinth to hunt monsters for Merit Points," Riya explained bitterly. "But the points are rigged. The nobles get the safe, mapped floors. The instructors drop the commoners into the contested zones to thin the herd."

Saile listened quietly. He watched the high-born students adjusting their enchanted mythril armor and checking their polished steel swords. They laughed and joked, treating the survival exam like a casual holiday hunt.

"They treat my prison like a playground," Naicul’s ancient voice rasped in Saile’s mind.

The Fallen God’s tone lacked its usual dark amusement. It sounded hollow and cold.

"The Abyssal Labyrinth is not a natural dungeon," Naicul stated. The buried memories bled into Saile’s consciousness, projecting images of black stone, molten forges, and heavy iron chains. "Naissac dug those tunnels himself. He filled the upper floors with feral beasts to guard the descent. At the very bottom, beneath the rock and the monsters, lies my armory."

"And your right arm," Saile replied mentally.

"Yes," the God affirmed. "We must go deep, kid. Far beyond the safe zones."

A sharp, ringing chime cut through the chatter of the courtyard.

An elite proctor stepped onto a raised marble dais in the center of the plaza. The man wore the white and gold uniform of the Church. He held a glowing crystal clipboard, looking down at the freshmen with flat, bored eyes.

"Listen closely," the proctor commanded. His magically amplified voice washed over the students, silencing the crowd. "The Abyssal Labyrinth is a controlled environment. Freshmen are restricted to Floors One through Three. You will hunt. You will harvest monster cores. At sunset, the arrays will pull you back to the surface. Your core count determines your grade and your Merit Points."

The proctor pointed toward the circular runic arrays carved into the courtyard floor.

"Step into your assigned circles by class," he finished. "Do not engage other students. The Church is watching."

The crowd shifted. The wealthy students of Class A and Class B marched confidently toward the glowing teleportation circles near the center of the plaza.

Saile hung back, shuffling his cheap boots against the stone. He followed Elian and Riya toward the outermost circle, designated for the lowest-ranking students.

As they walked, Saile’s Diamond-Tier senses caught a subtle, unnatural movement near the proctor’s dais.

A group of senior nobles stood in the shadows of a nearby archway. They wore the crest of House Vance. Saile recognized the slicked-back blonde hair of a senior aristocrat—one of the friends who had watched him dismantle Julian in the Duel Arena two days ago.

The blonde noble stepped close to the exam proctor. He did not speak.

With a swift, practiced motion, the noble slipped a velvet pouch into the proctor’s hand. The pouch clinked softly, heavy with pure gold. The proctor pocketed the bribe without looking down. He gave the noble a faint, acknowledging nod.

The proctor turned his attention to a small brass dial on his clipboard. He adjusted a single, glowing rune on the dial.

Saile’s gaze drifted from the dial down to the teleportation circle assigned to Class F.

The glowing blue runes carved into the stone beneath his feet flickered. The geometric patterns shifted, altering their spatial frequency. To an ordinary student, the change was invisible. To an EX-Rank host, the manipulation of mana was as clear as a blazing fire.

"They altered the drop coordinates," Naicul observed clinically.

"A sabotage," Saile thought back.

He understood the play. He had humiliated House Vance in front of the entire academy. A public duel was bound by rules, but the Abyssal Labyrinth was a lethal environment. Accidents happened in the dark. Unwanted students went missing.

The nobles had bribed the proctor to bypass the safety protocols. They were not sending Class F to the designated freshman floors.

"Are you going to step out of the array?" Naicul asked.

"No," Saile replied. A cold, chilling calm settled over his heart. "They are doing us a favor. They are giving us a shortcut."

Saile stepped onto the altered runes.

Elian tapped his wooden staff against the stone. The blind boy’s breath hitched.

"The mana..." Elian stammered, backing toward the edge of the circle. "The frequency is wrong! This isn’t tuned for Floor One!"

"Quiet, trash," a nearby noble sneered, stepping into the adjacent circle. "The array is fine. Stop whining."

Riya grabbed Elian’s arm, pulling the panicked boy back into the center of their

group. The twelve misfits of Class F huddled close together, holding their crude iron swords and splintered shields. They looked like sheep waiting for the slaughter.

"Initiate descent," the proctor called out.

The courtyard erupted in blinding light.

A heavy, suffocating pressure slammed into Saile’s chest. The spatial magic grabbed hold of his physical body, folding the air around him. The sunlight vanished. The smell of expensive perfume and polished marble was ripped away.

The sensation of falling took over.

It lasted far longer than a standard teleportation. The air grew rapidly colder. The oxygen thinned out, replaced by the foul, stinging stench of sulfur and rotting meat.

When Saile’s boots finally hit solid ground, the impact sent a hard jolt up his spine.

Total, pitch-black darkness swallowed them.

The Class F students cried out in shock, stumbling over uneven, jagged rock. Someone dropped a shield. It clattered loudly, the sound echoing for miles into the empty void.

"Light! Somebody cast a light!" Riya shouted, her voice tight with rising panic.

A boy near the back of the group held up a trembling hand. He muttered a desperate incantation. A weak, flickering orb of pale fire hovered above his palm, casting long, eerie shadows against the cavern walls.

They were standing in a massive, unrefined subterranean cavern.

The walls were jagged and wet, dripping with black slime. Thick stalactites hung from the high ceiling like the fangs of a dead beast. There were no marked paths. There were no glowing torches or safety runes provided by the Academy.

This was entirely uncharted territory.

"Where are we?" the boy holding the fire asked, his teeth chattering.

"We are off the map," Elian whispered.

The blind runecrafter fell to his knees. He pressed his bare hands against the wet stone floor. His fingers traced the ambient mana currents.

"The pressure here is crushing," Elian gasped, his face draining of color. "This isn’t Floor One. This isn’t even Floor Three. We fell too far. The ambient mana is toxic."

Saile stood perfectly still in the dim light.

He didn’t draw his iron training sword. He kept the canvas-wrapped Calamity Fang

secured across his back. He expanded his Diamond-Tier senses, feeling the air currents shift around the cavern.

Naicul was right. The deeper levels of the labyrinth were not natural. The ambient magic here was heavy, aggressive, and wild. It sought to crush anything weak enough to succumb to it.

"They killed us," Riya said. Her voice broke. She looked around at the terrified faces of her classmates. "The nobles bribed the proctors. They dropped us into the deep zone. We are going to die down here."

A low, clicking sound echoed through the cavern.

It started as a single, rhythmic tap against the stone. Then, it multiplied. Dozens of clicking noises joined the first, overlapping into a sickening, chitinous chorus.

"Something is moving," Elian warned. He scrambled backward away from the cave wall. "Above us!"

The boy with the fire spell raised his trembling hand higher. The pale light reached the cavern ceiling.

The shadows peeled back, revealing the horror waiting in the dark.

Clinging to the jagged stalactites were massive, multi-legged arachnids. They were the size of draft horses, covered in thick, dark purple exoskeletons. Their mandibles dripped with highly corrosive acid that hissed as it hit the stone floor. Six glowing, multifaceted red eyes stared down at the students.

Golden system screens flashed violently into Saile’s vision.

[Fatal Threats Detected!]

[Target: Cave Crawler x30]

[Level: 40 - 45 (Platinum Tier)]

The Class F students froze in paralyzing terror.

Level 40 monsters. These were creatures meant to test the elite upperclassmen and the veteran instructors. A single Cave Crawler could wipe out a squad of normal freshmen. Facing a pack of thirty was a guaranteed death sentence for commoners.

The boy holding the fire spell whimpered. He dropped to his knees. His spell sputtered and died, plunging the cavern back into near-total darkness.

The clicking grew louder. The beasts began to scuttle down the walls, their sharp legs carving deep grooves into the solid rock. The scent of human fear drove them into a feeding frenzy.

"Raise your weapons!" Riya screamed, drawing two rusted daggers. She stepped in

front of Elian, her hands shaking wildly.

The students drew their blunt swords and cracked shields. They formed a tight, disorganized circle. They wept quietly in the dark. They knew their cheap weapons would not even scratch a Platinum-Tier exoskeleton.

Saile watched them.

He saw their trembling knees. He heard their panicked breathing.

"Let them die," Naicul whispered coldly in his mind. "Use them as bait. While the beasts tear their flesh apart, we slip into the shadows and find the path to the armory. They are dead weight."

Saile looked at the blind boy gripping his staff. He looked at Riya standing her ground despite the overwhelming odds.

They were outcasts. They had been tossed into the trash by a corrupt system, bullied by nobles, and now sentenced to death for a crime they did not commit.

They reminded him of Orali.

A cold, familiar apathy settled over Saile’s heart. He did not feel pity for his classmates, but he felt a deep, unyielding disgust for the people who had put them here.

He didn’t need to let them die. They were not dead weight.

They were his cover.

Saile stepped forward. He moved past Riya, stepping outside the defensive circle. He walked directly toward the advancing swarm of monsters, preparing to issue his first command.