Chapter 31: Exam (11)

On the other side of the dead-end wall, Oliver’s stunned shout was abruptly drowned out by the deafening roar of the Minotaur.

’For once I actually like the Minotaur.’

Tristan stepped out of the swirling portal and into the dimly lit, polished corridor of the final safe zone. The stone rippled and sealed solid behind him, cutting off the sounds of battle. He leaned against the wall, taking a ragged breath. He had escaped the labyrinth, but his work wasn’t over. Survival didn’t equal victory. To pass the exam with the placement he needed, he had to secure the essence stones Oliver was holding.

And Tristan knew that insufferable man wasn’t going to go down quietly.

Tristan took his last few essence stones he was able to get throughout the exam and used them. Even though it’s less possible points, it was needed right now. He was running on empty.

Reaching into his bag, Tristan pulled out a cheap, standard-issue flint lighter. He sparked it, watching the small orange flame flicker in the damp air. Pushing his desperately low essence core to comply, he activated his ability.

"[Reave]."

[Concept Acquired: Burn]

Tristan extinguished the lighter and walked down the corridor, positioning himself just past the threshold where the golden doors of the sanctum were supposed to exit into the safe zone. He waited.

A few moments later, the magic of the labyrinth corrected itself. Tristan’s concept snatch faded, and the golden double doors shimmered back into existence at the end of the hall. And nearly instantly, they violently burst open.

Oliver stumbled through.

The noble looked like he had been put through a meat grinder. His polished plate armor was heavily dented, his tunic was torn to shreds, and he was bleeding from a dozen shallow cuts. But as Tristan’s eyes darted past Oliver to the doorway, he saw the Minotaur staggering just behind him, a massive, gaping wound carved deep into its left leg. 𝒻𝘳ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝒷𝘯ℴ𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝑐ℴ𝑚

Tristan raised an eyebrow.

’Damn can’t believe that peon actually did that to a Fallen-Class.’

It was a terrifying display of raw martial talent.

But Oliver was at his limit. He limped forward, his chest heaving, his eyes locking onto Tristan standing casually in the middle of the corridor.

"Stay away from me, Verneuil," Oliver snarled, raising his blood-slicked polearm with trembling hands. "Step aside, or I’ll strike you down right here."

"I don’t think you’re in any position to make demands," Tristan replied smoothly, drawing his steel dagger. "But, I suppose it would be rude to not let you try."

He didn’t step aside. He stepped forward.

Oliver roared in frustration and lunged. Tristan met the charge, his combat proficiency activating instantly. His motions were hyper-fluid, his body acting on ingrained muscle memory from countless hours of perfectly timed parries. Steel clashed against steel, sparking in the dim hallway. Tristan effortlessly deflected the first thrust, redirecting the polearm’s heavy blade past his shoulder.

But Oliver was a monster in melee. The noble roared, shifting his grip and throwing his entire weight into a sweeping horizontal strike. The raw kinetic force battered through Tristan’s guard, shoving him back several feet.

Seeing the opening, Oliver didn’t press the attack. He immediately disengaged, his body blurring as he attempted to sprint past Tristan toward the final extraction circle.

Tristan raised his left hand and released his queued concept. "[Burn]."

He didn’t aim at Oliver’s chest. He aimed directly at the stone floor three paces ahead of the running noble. A condensed sphere of supernatural fire erupted into a blazing inferno, completely cutting off the corridor.

Oliver shouted in surprise, forcefully skidding to a halt and jumping backward to avoid having his face melted off by the blast.

"Where you running brat!" Tristan taunted.

That brief hesitation was all Tristan needed to close the distance again. He lunged, forcing Oliver back into a desperate, close-quarters knife fight.

As they clashed, Tristan’s analytical mind processed the data. Oliver’s movements were disjointed. When Oliver tried to run, he was a blur. When he swung his weapon, his strikes felt like cannonballs. The noble was frantically using [Counterweight] to bounce all his stats between Speed and Strength, trying to balance escaping the Minotaur with fighting Tristan.

’You can’t do both,’ Tristan thought.

Tristan feinted high, then stepped aggressively inside Oliver’s guard, slashing his dagger toward the noble’s exposed neck.

Panic flashed in Oliver’s eyes. Forced to defend a lethal blow, Oliver made his choice. He dumped every single drop of his essence into Strength to overpower the strike, violently swinging the haft of his polearm down to crush Tristan’s skull.

He was incredibly strong. But with zero stats in Speed, he was sluggishly, predictably slow.

Tristan didn’t even try to block the heavy polearm. He sidestepped the crushing blow by a hair’s breadth, raised his hand, and cast his final remaining concept.

"[Restrain]."

Heavy, ethereal iron chains erupted from the stone floor. Oliver, entirely devoid of his speed attributes, couldn’t even twitch before the chains wrapped around his ankles, waist, and arms, locking him perfectly in place.

"No!" Oliver screamed, thrashing against the unyielding iron.

Tristan smoothly stepped into the noble’s guard. With a practiced flick of his wrist, he sliced the leather strap on Oliver’s belt, neatly snatching the spatial bag bulging with ninety-two essence stones.

"Thanks for carrying these for me," Tristan whispered.

A deafening, guttural roar shook the corridor. Tristan stepped back just as the bleeding Minotaur burst through the golden doors. The beast’s violet eyes locked onto the immobilized noble wrapped in chains right in front of it.

"Enjoy the fun"

Oliver looked up at the towering shadow, his eyes widening in pure horror. "Tristan, wait—!"

The sentence died in his throat as the Minotaur’s massive iron greataxe descended in a murderous arc. The strike connected with crushing force. Before the blade could cleave bone, the emergency ward woven into the Academy uniform flared blindingly bright, absorbing the fatal kinetic force.

A sharp, violent shatter echoed through the corridor. The golden light imploded, instantly teleporting Oliver out of the labyrinth and eliminating him from the Academy trials completely.

His polearm clattered loudly against the stone floor, leaving Tristan standing completely alone before the beast.