Cutting a straight path to the edge of the arena was much harder than Caen had hoped.

The walls were very durable, but then, at times, mid-combat, the labyrinth would rearrange itself to such a point that his orientation was thrown off. He kept a timer in the corner of his vision to keep track of the labyrinth’s thirty-second changes. That was only a portion of his troubles, though.

Monsters dove down from the sky or charged at him from the labyrinth. Returned, for the most part, hurled spells and projectiles at him. But many of them ran away upon seeing him. Stormsong’s primary enchantments were terribly infamous. Historically, in the little time that every successful wielder had had access to the weapon’s full might, they’d grievously wounded many participants.

Caen felt very energized by the surges of power coming from the sword’s ability. But at the same time, he felt completely wrung out. He was so deeply fatigued that it all just seemed like a paradox to his mind. His will was severely strained.

He’d sustained many injuries in this round, and he could only spare enough attention to staunch bleeding and dull pain. His right eye was still unusable, and the left one was blurry. And he had to keep running. The dome was certainly picking up speed, even though he’d long since outpaced it.

Over the course of the trial, Chasma slowly kept extending downwards to cover Caen’s legs. The lower half of his armor was so terribly damaged, and most of his assailants had been taking advantage of that.

Caen had quickly communicated his intentions to Chasma using the spirit receptor. Anyone watching would simply assume that he’d slowly reshaped his fragment with Flora magic. Spreading Chasma over such a wide surface area effectively reduced the fragment's density by a great deal. But that was so much better than nothing.

On his way to another wall, he saw a familiar sight through his blurry eye. A huge glowing whale hurtled through the sky above, letting out a deep bellow as it was attacked by a host of those flying creatures.

The whale vanished with a resounding pop, and in its place was a thick box that bore a soul structure. The box plummeted to the ground, moving out of sight. Caen was immensely impressed. Just how much mana did that Summoner have?

Afterwards, Caen couldn’t stop thinking about his own mana reserves, which were plummeting at a concerning rate. He’d briefly swapped out Dream-guarding for Spirit-healing, so he could better manage his mana expenditure, and it helped for a while, but he’d needed to swap Dream-guarding back in. It was by far the most useful affinity in managing the abilities he’d Mimicked from Stormsong.

“Stormsong, is there any way for you to stop taking so much of my mana?”

“Of course not! Why would I even agree to that?”

“I’m worried about depleting my reserves.”

“Hmph. I cannot help you there.”

“Did Ro-Hexur ever run out of mana while using your primary enchantments?” Caen asked the sword.

“My original wielder was not as weak and as stingy with mana as you are,” Stormsong rumbled. “He could engage my primary enchantments for days without slowing.”

“...he used a mana battery, didn’t he?”

“Hmph! And so what if he did?”

After briefly swapping in Contract magic, Caen had quickly verified that the geas was still functional. It had suffered severe degradation, mostly because he’d broken past its compulsion earlier, but it hadn’t been nullified. Which was all that mattered. He would need it later.

As Caen slipped into another passageway, he saw Anomis blinking through the midst of a large group of Returned and sweeping Blight through them in its incorporeal form. They didn’t stand a chance.

Caen quickly dispatched the monsters chasing him and hurried to puncture another wall before the man noticed him.

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

“You!” Anomis roared in evident rage and abandoned his victims. “You thief!”

Caen braced Stormsong and connected to Anomis, as the man blinked through space, covering the distance in a heartbeat. Blight retracted its blade just before the man reached Caen.

Caen thrust Stormsong forward, missing Anomis by mere inches as the man blinked to the side and then several feet away. He growled, glaring at Caen for two whole seconds before turning back and blinking away.

Caen wasted no time breaking through the wall. A minute later, just as he was moving through another wall, he felt an approaching presence. Once he went through the hole, he turned around as if to face the monsters chasing him, and he saw an Aspirant trying to squeeze his way through the already closing hole. It sealed around him, and he was forced to bow out. Caen winced in sympathy.

Caen was very close to the edge of the arena. The blurry wards shielding the trial grounds from the spectators loomed more prominently over the labyrinth’s tall walls. He punched through another wall and ravaged the monsters and Returned there.

Caen’s biggest concern was running into Pahanai, the Star Killer.

She had never failed to eliminate any participant who threatened to beat Oirick’s record. And in this trial, Caen was the only participant likely to do so. He had three hundred and ninety-five points at the moment, and if he completed the trial, he would get another twenty points, bringing him to a total of four hundred and fifteen. This was actually the exact number of points earned by the ‘unofficial’ record-holder.

There was also Yeishi. But from everything Caen had gathered about the man, he was honorable. Perhaps Caen could convince him not to stand in his way.

I’ve come this far without running into either of them. Maybe they’re too busy trying to reach the exit point.

He slipped through the hole he’d made in a wall and dispatched the monsters that attacked him. There were thankfully no Returned here.

Just as he put down the last creature, the labyrinth rearranged itself around him, revealing a new passageway, out of which walked one Returned and one Aspirant.

Pahanai and Yeishi.

His heart thudding in his chest, Caen slowed and turned to face them. They stood about five yards away. He connected to both of them.

There was a prominent Divination affinity thread cluster in Pahanai’s soul. He'd always been suspicious of her ability to track down her quarry. She was as tall and as broad as Aunt Vensha, and appeared completely drained of color from the stark white runes on her face to the thick plate armor she was wearing. Humility, her double-sided war axe, was resting against her shoulder.

Had she bowed out of the trials at some point?

Yeishi was clearly still an Aspirant, going by the fact that he still retained his hue. He wore much lighter armor, and his head was covered in a helmet that framed his face. The legendary weapon, Sequence, hovered beside him. It was a shaft of metal with two long blades extending from both ends. Oirick himself had used that weapon nearly two centuries ago.

Caen suddenly felt a weakening of his spell constructs. His heightened mental speed slowed significantly, and the least of his split minds lurched. Caen held tightly to all his constructs, stabilizing them. They remained weakened, however.

This was Yeishi’s second bloodline: the Null bloodline. It allowed him to extend an invisible bubble around himself that dampened spells. Caen had feared that this would apply to all magical effects, including Mimicry. But his meld seemed completely unaffected. His connection to Stormsong and his two assailants remained stable.

“Stormsong, do you feel weaker?” he asked. “One of our opponents has a dampening bloodline.”

“My enchantments are not so easily overcome,” Stormsong answered. “You better not fluctuate.”

“I’ve been looking for you, my little star,” Pahanai drawled to Caen with a smile on her face as she hefted her war axe.

“Herb Mask,” Yeishi greeted with a nod, as he slowly gripped Sequence firmly in his right hand. Caen had watched recordings of the previous rounds and had seen how skillfully they man wielded the weapon.

“I have no quarrel with you,” Caen said to him.

“I wish I could say the same,” Yeishi replied. “But we must uphold tradition.”

“If it’s a duel you want, I swear to you on my honor that I will give you a fair one after this trial.”

Yeishi shook his head. “You have no honor. And I no longer require a duel. Your path ends here, Herb Mask. We will not allow you to cheapen my grandfather’s legacy.”

“I’m in no condition to fight both of you at the same time,” Caen said, making one final attempt at appealing to reason.

“You only have yourself to blame for that,” Yeishi replied coldly as he braced his weapon.

“I’m going to enjoy this,” Pahanai said a second before dashing towards Caen with preternatural speed.

He’d expected to see a Body-enhancement affinity cluster, but a Dream-guarding affinity also flared in her soul. Caen immediately erected a mental shield.

She swung her axe before even entering striking range. At the same time, Yeishi darted forward.