Deus Necros

Ludwig and the remaining survivors found themselves enclosed within a square room constructed of rough-hewn bricks and stone. The walls seemed to press in on them, amplifying the tension in the air. Suddenly, the room darkened, and a screen materialized before them, displaying Professor Olim and the bustling arena beyond.

“Impressive display of skill and analysis!” Olim’s voice boomed, his enthusiasm palpable as he addressed the audience. The Doppelgänger event had concluded, and the crowd was still buzzing with excitement.

“I honestly thought the survivors would be far fewer—perhaps even none—so the next trial would be even more fun,” Olim added, his tone dripping with playful mischief. His words sent a ripple of unease through Ludwig’s group, though each of them tried their best to maintain a facade of calm.

“Now, for our next and final challenge for the freshmen,” Olim continued, his voice commanding attention. “You will notice that there is a mark on your wrists.” The screen zoomed in, displaying a small, circular inscribed magic line that wrapped around each of the students’ wrists.

“That is a beacon, and you are the prey,” Olim explained, his tone shifting to one of grim seriousness. “This challenge will last for three hours. During that time, the beacon on your wrist will periodically reveal your position to the group of students who were eliminated earlier in the rounds. Your goal is simple: don’t let them touch you. It doesn’t matter what method you use—just don’t allow them to land their hands on you. Once you are touched by an eliminated student, they will take your beacon and be randomly transported somewhere else. The goal is straightforward: after three hours, only those with a beacon can pass to the final challenge of this event.”

He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in before adding, “Do note, if a student takes enough damage to eliminate them, they will be teleported to a secluded waiting area where they’ll need to stay for thirty minutes.”

“Another survival challenge, I see,” Cymoria remarked, her voice carrying a hint of amusement.

“Slightly different this time,” Olim replied, his tone light but with an undercurrent of cunning. “This challenge doesn’t require one to be strong or fast but has intricate and quite convoluted mechanics within it. Students need to understand well when they should grab a beacon or even give it up. The plan isn’t about who will retain their beacon the longest but who will eventually have theirs before the time hits zero.”

“Interesting games you have, Olim,” Van Dijk said, his voice calm but with a trace of skepticism. “But that room is awfully small for such a game. There are only seven students left. If you drop the rest of the eliminated students in there, it’ll be chaos.”

Olim’s smile widened, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. “Indeed, it would be,” he said, clapping his hands.

At his signal, the walls around Ludwig and the others suddenly fell away, revealing an endless expanse of towering stone walls that stretched as far as the eye could see. The labyrinth was vast and intricate, its pathways twisting and turning in a dizzying array of possibilities.

“A labyrinth,” Vastion said, his voice tinged with amusement. “This should be fun.”

“Now,” Olim continued, his tone shifting to one of mock solemnity, “since the students who have already succeeded in making it this far have had a rough time getting here—and have spent a lot of effort and power to stand above their peers—it would be unfair for someone else to come in and take their hard-earned place by luck. So, the hunters will have a slight disadvantage.”

He snapped his fingers, and a new screen appeared, displaying a group of students packed tightly together. These were the students who had been eliminated earlier in the rounds. They seemed to have been waiting for some time, as some were lounging on the ground while others leaned against the walls, their expressions a mix of boredom and anticipation.

But something was slightly different about these students. Each of them had several bells attached to their bodies—around their necks, wrists, and ankles.

“The disadvantage is sound,” Olim explained, his voice carrying a note of satisfaction. “Each of the hunters will have five bells on them that will constantly reveal their position to the prey. Those who have beacons will be able to hear the jingling of the bells and better strategize their movements.”

He paused, his grin widening. “Also, every thirty minutes that passes, all hunters will lose one bell.”

The arena erupted into murmurs as the implications of Olim’s words sank in. During the last half-hour of the three-hour period, the hunters would be able to move without the telltale sound of their bells, making them far more dangerous.

“Then, one more thing,” Olim added, his tone almost gleeful. “There are a few small events hidden inside the labyrinth that can shake things up. These events are for both hunters and prey, and you will receive some small… bonuses when clearing them.”

As if on cue, the walls around the hunters began to fall away, and the eliminated students surged into the maze, their bells jingling loudly as they spread out. The sound of their movement echoed through the labyrinth, a constant reminder of the danger that now lurked within.

“Now, let the game begin!” Olim declared, his voice booming. “Hunt or be hunted!”

[You can now use Inspect]

“Damn, this one is a doozy,” Minerva muttered, her eyes fixed on the glowing beacon on her wrist.

“Hmm,” Ludwig said, his tone thoughtful. “It’s designed to keep us on the run. While it might seem advantageous for us early on, the more time passes, the worse it’ll be for us.”

“The trial never said anything about us not being able to defend ourselves,” Vini pointed out, his voice tinged with frustration.

“You can do that,” Ludwig replied, his tone pragmatic. “But we’re only seven, and they’re twenty-three. I doubt we can defend ourselves against an entire group with just the few of us.”

Another student chimed in. “Who said I’ll be helping?”

The group turned to look at him—the shadow manipulator who had caused so much chaos earlier. He smirked, his eyes glinting with mischief. “This is a good challenge for solo play,” he said, taking a few steps back.

Before anyone could protest, his form melted into the shadows of the dimly lit maze, disappearing completely.

“You’re on your own,” his voice echoed faintly before fading entirely.