The tension between Selene and Joran thickened in the narrow corridor.

  The remnants of the defeated golem were still smoldering at their feet. The glowing core pulsed between them, casting eerie shadows across their determined faces.

  "My magic guided us here, mister," Selene repeated, her voice hardening as frost gathered at her fingertips. "Without my Divination, we'd still be wandering aimlessly or dead from a trap."

  Joran's previous jovial demeanor had completely vanished, replaced by a veteran mercenary's calculating glare. "Guidance is worth something, sure," he conceded, grip tightening on his twin blades, "but when that golem was about to crush the boy, I didn't see you jumping in front. The core goes to fighters, not fortune-tellers."

  “Are you saying I didn't partake in the fight at all?” the mage scowled.

  I leaned against the wall, arms crossed, observing the escalating standoff. Ha-Yun positioned herself nearby, close enough to whisper. "Aren't you going to step in?"

  "I don't think so. Let's see how this plays out," I murmured back. "Sometimes people need to establish their own pecking order."

  Alaric had helped Lucas to his feet, both now watching wide-eyed as the corridor temperature plummeted. Frost crept along the walls from where Selene stood, while Joran's blades began to emit a faint orange glow as he channeled his own mana into them.

  "Hah. I won't ask again," Selene's voice echoed, dangerously quiet. "Back away from the core."

  Joran barked a laugh that held no humor. "Or what, ice witch? You'll turn me into a fancy sculpture?"

  The first spell came without warning—a javelin of ice materializing and launching toward Joran's chest. His reaction was impressive; he twisted sideways, the spear grazing his armor and shattering against the wall behind him.

  "Wrong move," he growled, then surged forward with unexpected speed for his size.

  Selene's hands moved frantically, trying to form another spell, but the corridor was too narrow for proper spellcasting distance.

  Just as I'd suspected, the confined space heavily favored the close-combat fighter.

  It's her fault for making the first attack, though. But I could understand why. If he were the one to make the first move, it'd be too late for her to fight back. She didn't want to take the risk.

  Joran's first blade knocked aside her staff while the second pressed dangerously against her throat. "Not so confident now, are we?"

  "S-stop this, guys!" Lucas cried out, but remained frozen in place.

  Selene's eyes blazed with defiance despite her disadvantage. “Fool.” She whispered something, perhaps a backup spell, and the floor beneath Joran's feet suddenly erupted with razor-sharp ice spikes.

  The mercenary howled in pain but didn't fall. Instead, he kicked Selene hard in the stomach, sending her crashing into the wall.

  Her head struck stone with a sickening crack, blood trickling down her temple.

  “I guess I'll just end you, witch!” Joran shouted, slowly walking over to her.

  "Alright, that's enough," I sighed, pushing off from the wall. This had gone beyond a simple power struggle.

  Ha-Yun whistled low, an amused smile playing across her lips. "Finally joining the fray, mysterious one?"

  I ignored her commentary, striding purposefully between the combatants. Selene was struggling to rise, one hand pressed against her bleeding head while the other summoned a massive glacier pillar aimed directly at Joran—and me.

  Simultaneously, Joran charged from the opposite direction, both blades raised to strike through me to reach Selene.

  “Please step back, Cheonma,” Selene said. “You'll get hurt for no reason. I'll teach that mannerless barbarian a lesson!”

  “Get away, brat!” Joran shouted, both telling me to not get between them.

  But if I listened to them, one of them would end up dead. I didn't want there to be deaths in my team if I could stop it.

  I sighed.

  "[Photon Ring]," I announced calmly, the golden halo materializing behind me just as both attacks converged.

  The glacier pillar rushed toward me first. Selene’s eyes widened, seeing that I had no intention to dodge. She shouted and waved her hand to redirect the attack, but it was too late. The ice crashed towards me.

  I extended my left hand, palm out.

  On contact, I didn't become flattened bones and neither did the ice shatter—it dissolved, as if vaporising, the mana within it flowing visibly into my palm as threads of blue light. For a moment, I was a little surprised it worked; I was half expecting it to fail. But my mastery over the Photon Ring must be growing faster than I expected.

  It was nowhere near what the Crippled Heaven did with Amelia's Gold Dragon's Breath, but this was impressive in its own right.

  I guess it's easier since my right hand is a mana construct under the glove. I noted as I felt Ha-Yun's surprised intake of breath behind me.

  My left hand began to glow with the combined power of my own stellar qi and the absorbed ice magic. The energy coalesced around my arm in spiraling patterns of gold and blue.

  In the split second before Joran reached me, I pulled a standard steel longsword from my Soul Storage. It wasn't the Demon Blade of Kurayami—that would raise too many questions and might necessitate killing witnesses. This ordinary-looking blade would suffice.

  Unlike Selene, who'd tried to avoid hurting me, Joran didn't stop. So neither did I.

  Our weapons met with a deafening clang that reverberated through the corridor. The area lit up as sparks flew across us. Joran's twin blades pressed against my single sword, clattering with a metallic sound.

  The mercenary's eyes widened with surprise and frustration as he found himself completely stopped, neither advancing nor being pushed back.

  I could have overpowered him if I tried a little, but I deliberately maintained the stalemate. My mask hid my expression as our faces came close, but my voice carried clearly. "That's quite enough."

  After three tense seconds, I pushed just enough to force Joran back two steps. The mercenary's breathing was heavy, his eyes calculating as he reassessed me.

  "Both of you," I said, loud enough for everyone to hear, "are acting like children fighting over a toy."

  "He tried to kill me!" Selene accused, still leaning against the wall.

  "Only after you tried to skewer me," Joran shot back. “You attacked first, mage.”

  I kept my sword raised. "It is indeed her fault for attacking first, but that aside, the core belongs to Selene. She guided us, and she played a valuable part in the battle too.”

  Joran's face darkened with contempt. "Of course you'd take her side. The pretty, noble-looking blonde mage against the rough mercenary with dirt under his fingernails."

  "It has nothing to do with that," I replied evenly. "Selene's divination is the reason we avoided three separate traps before the golem. Moreover, her ice magic weakened it significantly. Your physical prowess was impressive, but you didn't land the killing blow on your own—I guided you to it. So if we're truly counting the overall value in the battle against the boss, I can demand the core as well. But even I'll say she deserves it more.”

  Joran's expression fluctuated between rage and calculation. Finally, he spat on the ground. "Keep your precious core. I, Joran of the Blackwater, have survived worse than this maze without handouts from mages and masked strangers who lie about their Level.”

  I really am Level 69, though… I didn't say it out loud, he wouldn't believe it.

  He sheathed his blades and turned to Lucas. "Come on, boy. We're leaving this group."

  Lucas hesitated, looking between us uncertainly. "But... shouldn't we stay together? Safety in numbers?"

  "Numbers mean nothing when your allies might stab you in the back. Didn't you see how she attacked me first? I was lucky to protect myself, but what if they attack you next?" Joran asked bitterly. "Besides, you're a healer. They clearly don't need healing when they have magic and whatever power that masked man is hiding. But I do." He gestured to his bleeding legs, where Selene's ice spikes had pierced his armor. “So I’ll protect you better than them.”

  Alaric stepped forward. "Perhaps we should all calm down and—"

  "Save it, Prince," Joran interrupted. "You nobles always stick together in the end." His gaze hardened as he looked at Lucas again. "Last chance, boy. You don’t look like these noble goons. Your healing skills will be wasted here, but they'll keep us both alive out there."

  Lucas swallowed visibly, conflict clear on his young face. After a moment, he nodded reluctantly. "I... I'll go. Sorry," he added to the rest of us, not meeting anyone's eyes.

  "A wise choice," Joran said, clapping a hand on Lucas's shoulder. "Let's find ourselves a better path through this maze."

  Without another word, the mercenary and healer turned and disappeared down one of the branching corridors, their footsteps gradually fading into silence.

  "Well," Ha-Yun remarked dryly once they were gone, "that could have gone better."

  Alaric hovered near Selene, concern etched on his features. "Are you alright? That wound looks serious."

  Selene pressed a hand to her temple, wincing. "I'll manage." She glanced at the golem's core still lying on the ground, then at me. "I… I apologize, we lost our healer because of me. I should have been less greedy. Regardless, you didn't have to intervene.”

  "Didn't I?" I retracted my sword into my Soul Storage and knelt to pick up the core, offering it to her. "He would have killed you. Although I defended you, you're at fault for attacking first. Be careful next time.”

  "...I'm stronger than I look," she insisted, but accepted the core with a small nod of thanks.

  "Your absorption technique," Ha-Yun commented, moving closer to me, her voice low enough that only I could hear. "That wasn't standard magic. It looked almost like..."

  "A discussion for another time," I cut her off gently.

  Alaric sighed as he thoughtfully surveyed our diminished group. " There are four of us now instead of six. Our chances just decreased significantly."

  "You'd be surprised, prince,” I replied, "at how much simpler travel becomes with fewer conflicting opinions."

  Selene tucked the core securely into her robes. "We should move on. The noise of our fight might attract other guardians or competitors."

  As we formed our new, smaller group to continue through the maze, I noticed Ha-Yun watching me with increased interest.

  Our group's dynamic had shifted completely, with Joran and Lucas's departure leaving a power vacuum that I had inadvertently filled.

  "Lead on," I gestured to Selene, whose divination had proven valuable so far.

  She nodded, still unsteady but determined, her blue robes swishing as she turned toward the passage ahead. As Alaric followed, I felt Ha-Yun's hand brush against mine briefly.

  "Quite the show of restraint there," she murmured. "I suspect you could have ended that fight much more decisively."

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  To be fair, both of them were right, and at the same time, both were wrong. I didn't want to pick a side by fighting with them seriously.

  I said nothing, but beneath my mask, a small frown formed.

  The maze had only just begun to test us, and already our first alliance had shattered. I could only wonder how my other companions were faring in their own corners of this labyrinth.

  ****

  The maze stretched endlessly before us, its ancient stone corridors illuminated by the soft blue glow of Selene's divination runes.

  We'd been walking for what felt like hours, each turning corridor looking almost identical to the last. The walls whispered with faint echoes, carrying sounds that shouldn't exist in these depths—distant laughter, a child's cry, the clash of steel against stone.

  These must be the Whispering Shadows at work, trying to lure unwary travelers to their doom.

  My companions seemed mercifully unaffected, though occasionally Ha-Yun would tilt her head slightly, as if catching strains of some far-off melody only she could hear.

  Selene walked at the front of our small procession, her blonde hair gleaming in the pale light of her magic. The head wound from her fight with Joran had been partially treated with Alaric's basic healing water, but a thin line of dried blood still traced her temple. Despite this, her steps were sure, her back straight with quiet determination.

  I matched my pace to hers, curious about our unexpected mage companion. Something about her struck me as familiar, though I couldn't quite place it.

  "Your divination is remarkably precise," I commented, breaking the silence that had fallen between us. "It's not a common specialty, even among advanced practitioners."

  She glanced sideways at me, her blue eyes assessing. After our skirmish with Joran, she'd been more reserved, perhaps unsure where she stood with the rest of us.

  "It runs in my family," she replied after a moment. "The Cintras have always had an affinity for ice and divination magic."

  "Cintra?" The name clicked immediately. "One of the Seven Great Mage Families of the Northern territories?"

  A small, wry smile curved her lips. "The same. Though I suspect my parents would prefer I not represent the family name while traipsing through magical death mazes."

  "How wonderful. You're a long way from the Glass Citadel," Ha-Yun observed, referring to the legendary seat of the Cintra family. "What brings someone with your pedigree to Nevaramis?"

  Her fingers traced a new divination rune in the air, sending it floating ahead to scout our path. "The same thing as everyone else—opportunity, adventure, a chance to claim something rare and valuable." She paused, then added more softly, "Or perhaps escape."

  That caught my interest. "Escape?"

  Selene sighed, her breath forming a small cloud in the cool air of the corridor. "I’m actually your alumnus, Ha-Yun and Alaric. I graduated from Waybound Academy five years ago. I'm not as impressive as most people, though…” She looked at Ha-Yun.

  If she had graduated five years ago, she would likely be around 28 years old now. Ha-Yun was 22, and yet she was just a Level behind.

  Sometimes I forgot that the students I interacted with were not normal. They were the best of the best, stronger than the majority. Even Victor Seraph, for all his ego, showed incredible achievements.

  “Thanks to my family line, I did get multiple commendations, the whole pageantry. Back in the day I pleased myself with them, but as I grew up, I realized I never deserved those." There was no pride in her voice, only a tired sort of acceptance. "Returned home to take my rightful place among the Cintra mage council, as expected."

  "Let me guess," I said, "the reality didn't match the expectation?"

  She laughed, a short, sharp sound that echoed through the corridor. "An understatement. Three years of political maneuvering, backstabbing, and endless debates about whether we should align with the Northern Grand Duke’s will to disobey the Empire or remain neutral. The amount of actual magic I performed could be measured in hours, not days."

  Her honesty surprised me. Most high-born mages guarded their family's reputation zealously. "So you left?"

  "I did. Packed my grimoire and walked out during the Spring Equinox Gala. My father threatened to disown me. My mother wept." She shrugged, but I caught the slight tension in her shoulders. "Two years later, I'm still waiting for them to follow through on either count."

  I found myself unexpectedly warming to her. There was something refreshing about her straightforward nature, the way she didn't hide behind the usual artifice and pretension of noble mages.

  If I had to put it in modern terms, she was the type who peaked early—full of herself in high school—but once life hit her with some reality, she got her act together, grew more grounded, and became a lot more tolerable.

  "What was Waybound like when you attended?" Alaric asked, and I paid attention since I was also curious. "Have things changed much in five years?"

  "Hmm." She considered this as we turned down a new corridor, this one wider than the previous. "Your professor Katheran is my junior, actually. Back then, terrifying senior students with his incredible growth. An orphan from the slums showing such results was unheard of, so people picked on him a lot. And he somehow put all of them in their places. Chancellor Duskleaf, I believe, remains the same as ever. Well, that is understandable since she's held that position for decades.”

  "And the student politics?" Ha-Yun asked.

  "Much the same, I imagine. Or maybe a bit less serious since you guys have the Imperial Prince attending with you. Noble families jockeyed for position and favor." She cast a sideways glance at me. "Though I don't recall any mysterious masked men causing a stir during my time. Which Academy did you graduate from, Cheonma?”

  I chuckled softly. "That'd ruin the mystery, Miss Cintra."

  "My, trust me, I'd love to ruin some of your mystery if you give me the chance," she said softly, giggling to herself. “Jokes aside, I'm really curious since your techniques aren't standard academy training. Are you from Ethenia?”

  “No,” I said. Technically, it wasn't a lie. “I hail from a distant land. We call it Murim.”

  “Sounds interesting,” she said. “Cheonma sounds like an eastern name. Is that why Princess Ha-Yun has been sticking to you? Pity. I might not have a chance then,” she joked.

  Ha-Yun laughed, “It’s alright, I don't think someone so mysterious is interested in me.” She said, with a shrug. “I have a feeling he'd reject me even if my father asked him to take me.”

  “....”

  So Monarch Jin told her about the fake engagement situation. Ugh, I hoped he wouldn't. I felt a little awkward now.

  As the powerful ladies began to converse among themselves, Prince Alaric slipped into the conversation. “By the way,” he flashed his characteristic diplomatic smile, adjusting the water flask at his hip.

  "Since you're my alumnus, Lady Cintra," he said, his voice carrying that perfect blend of respect and friendly interest that royals are taught from birth. "I just recalled something. I've recently partnered with a talented friend of mine to produce a rather revolutionary product—the Surging Blood Pill. Perhaps you've heard of it?"

  I nearly tripped over my own feet. Was he trying to do a sales pitch to her right now? Trust Alaric to casually bring up business during a life-or-death trial in an ancient maze. But I had to admire his persistence and salesmanship.

  Selene's eyes widened with recognition. "The strength enhancement pill? It's been the talk of the northern mage circles, yes. Although there's not much supply in our part of the Empire. I'm surprised to hear Roshmar is involved."

  "Oh yes," Alaric's chest puffed slightly with pride. "As I said, the formula came from a brilliant friend of mine—he’s a true genius. Iskandaar Romani, the grandson of Grand Duke Sikandar of Erebia. I'm sure you heard of his grandfather, even if the name Iskandaar isn’t well-known yet.”

  “He sounds impressive if you’re so confident in him,” she said, making Alaric laugh.

  “I was lucky to have merely recognized the potential in his genius and provided the means to distribute his pill widely. I'm heartbroken to hear it hasn't yet reached the northern part well.”

  Ha-Yun held back a giggle while eyeing me, and I carefully kept my expression neutral behind my mask, though a small smile tugged at my lips.

  It felt good to hear praises behind my back, knowing they were genuine since Alaric didn't know I was here. He was a good friend.

  "In fact," Alaric continued, seamlessly reaching into his robe pocket, "I carry a small supply for emergencies. Quite useful in situations like this maze." He produced a small, ornate bottle containing several red pills. "Would you care to have one, Lady Cintra? Consider it a gesture of goodwill between potential allies."

  Selene hesitated, clearly surprised by the generosity. "That's... incredibly kind, Your Highness. But these must be worth a small fortune."

  Alaric smiled, pressing the bottle into her hand. "What good is fortune if not shared? Besides, it may save your life—or ours—before this maze is through."

  "How does it work?" she asked, examining the bottle with newfound interest.

  "The Surging Blood Pill temporarily enhances physical strength and resilience," Alaric explained, slipping effortlessly into merchant mode. "A fair exchange—it draws on your mana to fuel the enhancement. For someone of your caliber, the mana cost would be negligible compared to the benefits. I dare say, if you had taken this pill before fighting that rude adventurer, you'd not have been injured!”

  Selene’s eyes twinkled at that. She tucked the bottle carefully into her robe. "Then I'll accept it. Thank you, Prince Alaric. I'm genuinely impressed by both the gift and your business acumen."

  Seeing Alaric smoothly occupying Selene's attention with his enthusiastic explanation of Surging Blood Pill side effects and optimal usage timing, I quietly stepped back, allowing them space for their conversation.

  There was no need for me to interject, and it gave me a moment to scan the maze around us with my Demonic Sphere, searching for any hidden threats or unexpected companions.

  I watched as Ha-Yun’s footsteps slowed as she matched her pace to mine, walking by my side.

  "You have an impressive talent for disappearing from conversations the moment they turn comfortable," she observed, eyes twinkling with amusement. "Are you secretly shy beneath that fearsome mask, Heavenly Demon?"

  I snorted, amused despite myself. "It's a strategic retreat. Alaric is far better at charming noble mages than I am. And since they're busy, someone has to keep their eyes open for danger.”

  "Is that so?" Ha-Yun's fan opened with a flick of her wrist, partially hiding her smile. "And here I thought it was your mysterious aura that captivated them."

  "My mysterious aura is reserved for situations that require intimidation, not small talk, dearest Princess,” I said.

  Her laugh was light, a welcome sound in the oppressive atmosphere of the maze. "Speaking of your intimidating abilities, that technique earlier—the Photon Ring. It's quite spectacular."

  "You noticed," I said, pleased by her observation.

  "Hard not to notice a glowing halo of light appearing behind you," she replied dryly. Fair. "It's an elegant technique, yes. Beautiful, even. Not what I'd expect from someone who named himself the words ‘Heavenly Demon’."

  I shrugged, oddly appreciative of her praise. "Beauty and destruction aren't mutually exclusive. I think you would know, given how beautiful your Sakura Blossoms are.”

  "True," she conceded, tapping her closed fan against her palm thoughtfully. "Still, I'm curious how you developed it. The energy manipulation reminded me somewhat of Eastern techniques. Like that sword technique of yours.”

  "Actually," I admitted, "I took inspiration from you."

  She halted mid-step, surprise clear on her face. "From me?"

  "Your sakura petal technique—the way you sling mana through controlled bursts. I saw it during our earlier encounters and adapted the principle. The Photon Ring is essentially a controlled, concentrated version that works with my particular affinity."

  Naturally, I was bullshiting.

  Ha-Yun's surprise melted into a pleased, slightly smug expression. "So what you're saying is, you owe me for your spectacular new ability?"

  "I wouldn't go that far," I said, though my tone was light. "Call it professional admiration."

  "Oh, I'll call it whatever I like, you silly little boy," she countered, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Including 'you're welcome' every time you use it to save us from some maze monstrosity."

  Our banter continued as we followed Selene and Alaric through the winding corridors, exchanging observations about the maze and trading veiled comments about our respective powers.

  There was something comfortable in our exchanges, a sense of genuine camaraderie that felt almost out of place in the ominous atmosphere surrounding us.

  Ahead, Selene suddenly halted, her hand raised for silence.

  The abrupt change in her posture instantly put me on alert. Ha-Yun and I exchanged glances before moving forward to join her and Alaric at the entrance to a larger chamber.

  “What's wron-” I didn't have to finish my question. My eyes fell on the view ahead.

  The scene that greeted us transformed the mood in an instant. My Demonic Sphere had missed it since I was searching for movements, and there were none here.

  The chamber's walls bore massive scorch marks, the ancient stone blackened and cracked as if subjected to intense heat. Shattered armor pieces lay scattered across the floor alongside twisted metal that might once have been weapons. Most disturbing were the bodies—four or five adventurers sprawled in unnatural positions, their faces frozen in expressions of terror.

  "What happened here?" Alaric whispered, his previous cheerfulness evaporating.

  I stepped carefully into the chamber, my Demonic Sphere expanding to its full range, searching for any lingering threats. The residual energy signatures were... wrong. Corrupted.

  My stomach tightened with recognition.

  "This was recent," Ha-Yun observed, kneeling to examine one of the bodies. "Still warm."

  Selene moved toward the far wall, her fingers tracing strange markings burned into the stone. "These aren't from the maze construction. They look like... ritual markings."

  A faint groan from the corner drew our attention. Ha-Yun was there in an instant, turning over a half-concealed body we hadn't initially noticed.

  "He's alive!" she called.

  We gathered around the dying adventurer, a middle-aged man with a weathered face and a gaping wound across his chest. His eyes fluttered open, unfocused and glazed with pain.

  If the [Healer] were with us, we might have been able to save him. But as things were, the best we could do was hear him out.

  “What happened here?” I asked him.

  "Shadows," he gasped, his voice barely audible. "A… a witch… spell… and shadows came... from a hole in reality."

  "A witch? Can you tell us more?" I asked, leaning closer.

  The man's fingers clutched weakly at my cloak. "Hooded figures. Chanting... words that hurt to hear." He coughed, blood speckling his lips. "Deep in the maze... a ritual. Runes glowing with... unnatural light."

  My blood ran cold.

  This matched exactly what I feared—the Outer God Cult's extensive presence in the maze. I'd hoped that even if we encountered a few cultists, it would be just them. But from this report, there seemed to be a whole group.

  "Something—" the adventurer continued, his voice breaking, "—something waking. They're bringing it... closer... beneath Nevaramis."

  "What are they awakening?" Ha-Yun pressed urgently. "Did you see?"

  But the man's eyes had gone distant, his breathing shallow. "Too late... it's already... started..."

  Ha-Yun and I exchanged tense glances, although I doubted she understood the situation wholly, she understood the dangerous implications.

  The Outer God Cult wasn't just here for the trials—they were actively working on whatever "animation" Lyra had mentioned before dying.

  Suddenly, a sharp pain lanced through my mind, making me wince beneath my mask. A familiar presence brushed against my consciousness, followed by a voice, faint thanks to the maze's thick walls but unmistakable.

  "Iskandaar... are you... around? Help…!"

  Nebula's telepathic message was weak, fragmented, but the urgency in her tone was clear.

  I straightened abruptly, my head swiveling as I tried to determine the direction from which her mental signal originated.

  "Mister Cheonma?" Alaric's voice sounded distant despite his standing right beside me. "Is something wrong?"

  I barely registered his question, my focus entirely on strengthening the telepathic connection with Nebula.

  "Nebula? Where are you? Are you safe?!" I projected back, willing my thoughts to reach her across whatever distance separated us in this labyrinthine maze.

  All I hoped was that she'd manage to send me a direction to follow.

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