Chapter 27: Exam (7)

Before Rowan could even voice any kind of objection, or even worse before a shouting match attracted the wonderful minotaur, Tristan casually raised his hand.

"I’ll take the front," Tristan volunteered, adjusting the strap of his leather satchel.

Rowan didn’t even need to use his ability to catch the surprise etched on everyone else’s faces. He narrowed his eye towards Tristan, after all it was easy to tell there was more to what was going on here. People don’t just do things out of the goddess of their hearts, especially to strangers. Usually Rowan may have probed more but his essence was basically empty and with the looming threat at their backs, he swallowed down his skepticism. He was just glad there was no infighting.

"Lead the way, then," Oliver muttered, immediately falling back into a safer position in the center of the formation.

Tristan didn’t waste a second. He took the vanguard, claiming his "analytical" abilities would help him spot the traps Rowan’s exhausted eyes might miss.

His pace was punishingly quick. As they navigated the winding limestone halls, Rowan could see cold sweat forming on the back of Tristan’s neck. The reason was obvious. The distant, earth-shaking roars were growing more frequent. If the minotaur were to catch them now, let’s just say it would not turn out well. In this exhausted, battered state, without a vanguard golem to absorb the initial blow, it would be a massacre.

As they rounded a sharp, blind corner, Tristan suddenly skidded to a halt. Rowan nearly crashed into him, his hand instinctively flying to his weapon.

They had bumped right into another team.

There were only three of them left. They looked ragged, sporting fresh wounds, scorched uniforms, and wild, paranoid eyes. The Academy proctors had set no rules against attacking fellow participants. If anything, the brutal point system actively encouraged it, eliminating a competitor meant their essence stones were yours for the taking.

Easy points. Kind of.

For a tense, suffocating moment, the two groups simply stared at each other, their weapons were drawn and they were ready to strike.

After the moment passed Tristan quickly raised his hands. "Yo guys, I think there’s no need to fight." he said, his voice remarkably steady. "We’re all just trying to survive the Minotaur. Let’s make our way to the end together. If we both get caught up here we’ll be wiped out anyway."

The opposing leader, a bruised boy gripping a heavy broadsword, exchanged a wary look with his teammates. "Fine," the boy spat, still clutching his weapon. "But as a show of trust... your team walks ahead of us."

It was a blatant stupid demand putting Tristan’s team straight into danger and the possibility of backstabbing. Yet, Tristan nodded instantly. "Readily agreed."

Ella let out a breath of relief, nodding along.

Rowan on the contrary wasn’t as relieved. He wasn’t sure Tristan was in the right mindset to be making these kinds of calls. Putting armed, desperate competitors directly at their backs was ridiculous. Rowan opened his mouth to speak up, but Tristan suddenly shot him a sharp, silencing look.

Rowan clamped his mouth shut and glanced over at Oliver. The armored boy was quiet, his eyes narrowed in deeply, most likely calculating. Since Oliver didn’t object either, Rowan decided to play along.

They moved forward, resuming their march. Tristan navigated them around a few basic pressure plates, but Rowan couldn’t focus on the path ahead. His paranoia was spiking. He constantly checked over his shoulder, his enhanced hearing tracking the heavy, uneven footsteps of the three armed students trailing just a few paces behind them.

Rowan couldn’t help but think their numbers advantage would allow them to wipe them out fairly easily but... oh well.

Tristan subtly slowed his pace, falling back just enough to lean in close to Rowan.

"When I give the signal," Tristan whispered, his voice barely audible over the echoing footsteps. "Run."

Rowan’s mind raced. He kept his eyes facing forward, muttering under his breath, "What signal?"

"It’ll be obvious," Tristan replied cryptically, immediately stepping back to the front of the pack.

They turned a few more corners, the tension continued to thicken till it felt nearly tangible. After dispatching a small, pathetic pack of stray monsters, they entered a long, straight corridor. The trailing team watched their backs the entire time, their weapons still suspiciously drawn.

Then, Tristan sucked in a breath and screamed at the top of his lungs.

"RUN!"

It wasn’t exactly the subtle tactical signal Rowan had in mind, but it got the job done. Without hesitating, Rowan exploded forward, his boots digging into the stone as he sprinted after Tristan.

It was strange. Rowan prided himself on his physical capabilities; he had spent years training his body to the absolute limit to make up for his purely perception-based skill. But as he ran, he realized Tristan was somehow pulling ahead. The supposedly frail puzzle-solver was terrifyingly fast.

Ahead of both of them was Oliver. The moment Tristan had shouted, Oliver must have instantly shifted all his attention to speed. He was little more than a blur, completely abandoning the rest of the group to ensure his own survival.

Ella was trailing behind Rowan, gasping for air as she pushed her exhausted legs to keep up.

Rowan risked a quick glance over his shoulder. Far behind Ella, the three other contestants were standing completely frozen in shock, entirely confused by the sudden sprint.

Their confusion only lasted a fraction of a second.

A deafening crash shattered the ceiling directly above the trailing team. The shock on their faces rapidly morphed into pure, unadulterated horror as the Minotaur dropped from the upper level, landing directly on top of them.