Chapter 54: Aptitude Test (6)

The fire crackled weakly in the corner of the cave, its flickering light casting long shadows on the jagged walls.

Smoke drifted upward through the natural skylight above, mixing with the smell of damp stone, burnt bark, and blood.

Lucien hunched beside Balt, carefully wrapping what remained of his trousers around his grotesquely swollen legs.

The bruising had deepened, an angry black-blue mass stretching from knee to ankle.

The bone had clearly shattered.

Both legs.

And though Lucien did his best to elevate and cool them, he knew from the textbooks alone that this kind of injury wasn’t something you walked off.

Not without a miracle.

“Damn,” Corin muttered, sitting on a boulder nearby and sharpening his axe with slow, repetitive strokes.

“He’s more dead weight than man now.”

Lucien shot him a sharp look, but said nothing.

“I’m not saying that to be cruel,” Corin continued.

“Just honest. Maybe… maybe it’s better to let him be disqualified. Get pulled out. At least then he’ll get real help.”

Lucien tightened the makeshift bandage around Balt’s leg.

His hands trembled, not from fear, but from helplessness.

“He’s worked for this,” he said quietly.

“Night and day. For months. This test… this place… it’s everything to him.”

Corin didn’t respond.

Lucien looked down.

His voice cracked.

“But maybe you’re right. Maybe getting his legs healed is more important than this stupid test.”

Corin finally stopped sharpening.

“This whole trial’s brutal. Too brutale. But that’s how it is.”

A ragged cough interrupted them.

Balt stirred, barely, and his eyelids fluttered open.

His voice came, weak and gravelly, but steady in intent.

“That’s the thing, Corin…”

Lucien and Corin turned toward him.

“…the world’s never gonna be fair.”

His breaths were short, labored, but his eyes burned with intensity.

“If I… if I waited for fairness, I’d have never even gotten here. I knew it’d be cruel. I knew I might die out here. But I still came. Because I have to.”

Lucien reached out.

“Balt-”

“I’m not done,” Balt said, pushing himself up slightly with shaking arms.

“I still have mana. I can still fight. Even like this. There might be a way, some trick, some edge. Something I haven’t thought of yet. But I won’t find it if I give up now.”

Lucien swallowed.

“Even if there is a way out… we don’t know what it is.”

“So what?”

Balt snapped, eyes wide with fury now.

“So you’re giving up already?”

“I’m being realistic!”

“No, you’re being privileged, Lucien!”

Balt’s voice cracked like thunder.

“You’re clever, you’re talented, and you have the luxury to back off if things go bad! But I don’t! I’ve got a village depending on me! I’ve got kids who look at me like I’m going to change everything!”

Lucien stood now, matching his fire.

“And what? You’re going to martyr yourself in the middle of a forest for a dream no one will even know died here?! If your village’s hopes rest on you, then maybe, just maybe, you should’ve thought twice before challenging two damn statues alone!”

“I didn’t challenge anyone!”

Balt growled.

“I walked down a path, like the damn test told me to, and they attacked me out of nowhere! What was I supposed to do? Just sit down and let them kill me?!”

The cave rang with silence after his words.

Lucien’s jaw tightened.

His fists curled.

But he didn’t speak.

Corin sighed and rose to his feet, stepping between the two like an unwilling referee in a bar fight.

“Alright, enough,” he said, holding up a hand.

“You both make fair points. Lucien’s right, this is risky. Balt, your legs are destroyed, and we don’t know how long this test lasts or how bad it’s going to get. But you’re not wrong either. You’ve come too far to just lie down and quit.”

He turned between them.

“So. Information exchange.”

Lucien blinked.

“What?”

“We stop yelling and pool what we know. Skills, spells, tactics. If we’re going to make it through this, we need a plan. Not a fight. A plan.”

Balt laid back, breath ragged, but said nothing. His jaw was still tight with frustration.

Lucien looked away toward the fire.

The flames danced in the silence.

He didn’t apologize.

Neither did Balt.

But both of them, quietly, knew they weren’t enemies.

***

The fire crackled gently, throwing flickering shadows against the cave walls.

Its warmth was a welcome balm against the damp cold that clung to their bones.

Corin sat cross-legged, idly sharpening the edge of his axe with a rock.

Lucien knelt beside Balt, inspecting the clumsy splint they’d managed to rig for his legs.

Balt leaned back against the cave wall, visibly exhausted, but awake and lucid, if only just.

Lucien finally broke the silence.

“I’ve been thinking,” he said, voice quiet.

“The further north we’ve gone… the worse the monsters have gotten.”

Corin raised a brow.

“You mean stronger?”

Lucien nodded.

“More aggressive. More organized, too. The fauna further south were more territorial, but they reacted naturally, predictably. Up north… it’s like they’re hunting us deliberately. Like something’s driving them.”

Corin’s expression grew grim.

“Now that you say it… yeah. South felt like a wild forest. North feels like something wants us dead.”

Balt gave a tired chuckle.

“Glad to know it’s not just me.”

Corin turned to him.

“Speaking of, think we missed intros with all the statue-smashing. Name’s Corin.”

“Balt,” he said, nodding.

Lucien nodded slowly.

“Well, you made an impression.”

“Yeah,” Balt groaned, gesturing to his ruined legs.

“Not quite how I intended.”

A moment of silence passed, the fire popping gently.

Then Lucien spoke again.

“You mentioned the yellow brick road earlier,” he said.

“The one we found you on, what exactly is it?”

Corin perked up, interest sparked.

“Yeah. We saw it, but didn’t have time to look around. Looked too clean to be natural.”

Balt shifted, wincing, then began to explain.

“I didn’t know what it was either when I first saw it. I was being chased by this, by this, I swear, this giant bird. Bigger than anything I’ve ever seen. Thing was dive-bombing me through the trees. I ran, barely dodged its claws, and then I tripped, fell forward onto that damn golden road.”

“And then?”

Lucien asked.

“It stopped,” Balt said, eyes narrowing at the memory.

“Just… stopped. The bird circled once, screeched like it was furious, and then flew off. Didn’t even try to cross the road.”

Corin leaned forward, frowning.

“So the beasts avoid it?”

“All of them, far as I could tell,” Balt nodded.

“The road was quiet. Dead quiet. I walked for maybe a hundred meters, saw no tracks, no nests, not even bird droppings. It was like nature refused to touch it.”

Lucien absorbed this, mind already whirring.

“So the road is a constructed route. Maybe part of the exam infrastructure. Something magical is warding off the wildlife.”

“Exactly what I thought,” Balt said.

“But before I could start celebrating, I found them.”

“The statues,” Corin guessed.

Balt nodded, eyes narrowing.

“Two of them. Spear-wielding monsters made of stone. Just standing there at a choke point in the path. I didn’t think anything of them, figured they were decorative. Walked right between.”

Lucien winced.

“And they woke up.”

“Like clockwork,” Balt muttered.

“One second I’m walking. Next, I’m fighting for my life.”

“Why put statues on a monster-free path?”

Corin asked aloud, confused.

“What’s the point?”

“Guardians,” Lucien said immediately.

“They're bottlenecks. Meant to stop or slow anyone using the safe route. The forest is unpredictable, full of enemies, but the road, if you can handle the guardians, is likely a straight path to the goal.”

Balt tapped the cave floor with the back of his hand.

“That’s what I figured too. The road’s safer… in a way. But the cost of safety is dealing with monsters that are worse than anything else out here.”

“Do you think there are more statues down the line?”

Corin asked.

Balt nodded solemnly.

“I’d stake my life on it. Those two weren’t guarding anything except that short stretch of path. Means more are ahead, closer to the end. Stronger ones, maybe.”

Lucien exhaled slowly, the firelight reflecting in his eyes.

“So we have two roads to the destination,” he murmured.

“One where the wild hunts you every step of the way. The other where titans wait in ambush, perfectly still until you get too close.”

“And no map,” Corin added dryly.

“And no working legs,” Balt muttered, raising his hand.

Lucien gave a rueful smile.

“We’ll figure something out.”

Balt looked up at him, eyes heavy but focused.

“We’ll have to. Because if we’re going to survive this test… we need to start thinking like the people who designed it.”

***

The three of them sat in silence, their breath mingling with the steady crackle of the fire.

The air was thick with unease, the weight of revelations still settling when.

Bzzzt.

All three bracelets strapped to their wrists began to shudder violently.

A low hum surged up their arms, and before any of them could react, a voice erupted from the bands, loud, authoritative, and heavy with command.

“This is Administrator Vaencel,” the voice thundered, reverberating through the cave walls as though the sky itself were speaking.

“This is an announcement for all examinees currently undertaking the Aptitude Test.”

“You are now halfway through the allotted time. If, by this time tomorrow, you are still within the bounds of the examination zone, you will be disqualified.”

“You are hereby advised to make your way to the designated destination using whatever means your abilities permit.”

“Good luck. To those who make it, welcome. To those who don’t... better luck in another life.”

The voice cut out as suddenly as it had come, leaving behind a silence so sharp it stung.

For a heartbeat, no one moved.

Then.

“Shit,” Balt muttered, his voice climbing with panic.

“We, we need to go. We don’t have time. I’ll find a way, I swear. I’ll drag myself through the trees if I have to.”

“You’re not dragging yourself anywhere,” Corin shot back.

“You can barely stay conscious.”

“Exactly!”

Balt snapped.

“If I go with you, I’ll slow you down. I will be dead weight, and that’s not up for debate. If I stay here and think, just think, I might find some way to-”

“You’ll die,” Corin said bluntly.

“Or get picked off by something smarter than you. And even if we do ditch the cave, what’s our choice? Push through the forest, where the monsters are getting worse by the hour? Or take the damn golden road where statues break your bones for breathing too loud?”

“Then what!?”

Balt shouted.

“What the hell are we supposed to do!?”

The cave exploded with noise, panic, desperation, guilt, and anger all speaking over one another.

Balt trying to stand and failing.

Corin pacing in tight circles, cursing every few seconds.

The fire cracked louder, like it too was caught in the chaos.

Then.

“Enough!”

Lucien’s voice cut through the storm.

The others froze.

He stood, firelight flickering over his face, jaw set, eyes bright with something that bordered madness.