An eerie calm had settled over our small circle, a pocket of focused silence in a hall descending into anarchy. The initial shock had worn off for the student body, replaced by the frantic, ugly calculus of survival. Friendships were dissolving into heated arguments over resources that didn't yet exist and alliances that were already poisoned by distrust. They were building their teams based on popularity and brute force, blind to the real variables that would determine who lived and who died. We, however, were operating on a different level. We were gathering intelligence.
"The four of you are last," I said, my voice low and steady. My gaze swept over Rina, the brilliant biologist; Neil, the walking encyclopedia of sci-fi tactics; Juno, the quiet artist; and finally, Talia, the fencer whose sharp eyes missed nothing. "We have information on the terrain, on strengthening ourselves, on the final trial, and the political landscape we're heading towards. But there are still critical gaps. Your questions will fill them."
I had already given Eric, Juno, and Neil their questions before, and they had returned with vital information about natural hazards, skill evolution, and the history of past trials. Now it was time to learn their skills and send the final two.
I looked at Rina. "We have fire and ice, but we have no way to mend what gets broken. Ask the Goddess what methods of recovery exist in this world, be it magical or natural."
Then, I turned to the remaining three. "Neil, Juno, go with her. Get your blessings. Don't ask any more questions. We need to save the last one. Talia, you wait."
They nodded, their faces a mixture of apprehension and resolve. The trio broke from our circle and made their way toward the ethereal glow of Liora's chamber, leaving Talia and me in the tense quiet.
Rina returned first, her soft features etched with a profound gravity. "I asked," she began, her voice barely a whisper. "She said that while this world is filled with things that can kill, life is resilient. She then granted me this." Rina held out her hand, and a soft, green-gold light bloomed from her palm. It wasn't aggressive like Erica's fire or cold like Masha's ice; it was warm, vibrant, and pulsed with a gentle energy that seemed to soothe the very air around it.
"What is it?" Masha asked, stepping closer, her expression uncharacteristically awed.
"She called it Vitae Weaving," Rina explained. "I can manipulate biological life force. I can accelerate healing, purge poisons, and knit flesh back together. But it requires my own stamina, and I can't regrow limbs or cure death. It's… a healing skill."
A collective sigh of relief passed through our group. A healer. It was a role so vital I hadn't dared hope for it. Rina was no longer just the brilliant biology student; she was our lifeline. I placed a hand on her shoulder. "You are now the most important person in this group," I said, my voice firm. "No one is allowed to die as long as you are standing. We will protect you at all costs."
Juno and Neil returned together. Juno, who always seemed to be in his own world, looked down at his sketchpad with a newfound intensity. "My skill is called Soul Etching," he said quietly. "If I can draw a target, even a quick sketch, I can perceive its emotional state, its surface intentions, and any significant weaknesses it possesses. It's… an analysis ability, I suppose."
My mind raced. It was a perfect complement to Edgar's Appraisal. Edgar saw the stats, the cold data66. Juno could see the soul—the fear, the rage, the exploitable cracks in a creature's or a person's psyche.
Neil pushed his glasses up his nose, unable to contain a flicker of excitement. "Mine is Lore Archive. The Goddess said my affinity for knowledge has been made manifest. I have an innate connection to the fundamental knowledge of this world. If I'm presented with an artifact, a monster, or an ancient text, I can intuitively understand its history, function, or properties. I don't know everything at once, but the information becomes clear when I'm focused on a specific subject."
Another intelligence-gathering tool. We weren't just a team of fighters; we were becoming an information network. While others would stumble blindly into traps, we would walk a path illuminated by knowledge.
Finally, only Talia was left. I met her gaze. She stood with the poised stillness of a fencer waiting for the duel to begin.
"The final question," I said, "is the most important one. It's the one that will dictate our entire strategy from this moment until the end. I need you to ask this, and I need you to remember her answer word for word."
She gave a single, sharp nod.
"Ask her this," I commanded. "Goddess, describe the exact mechanism that enforces the 'six survivor' rule. What specific event or barrier prevents the seventh person from succeeding?"
Talia's eyes widened slightly, understanding the terrifying weight of the question. She turned without a word and walked towards the light. The wait was agonizing. The minutes stretched, each one filled with the distant shouting and panicked cries of the other students. Our small group stood like a statue, all eyes fixed on the door to the goddess's chamber.
When Talia returned, the color had drained from her face. She looked at me, and in her eyes, I saw the reflection of our grim reality.
"She answered," Talia said, her voice tight. "She grew sad when I asked. She said the covenant demands a 'tithe of heroism,' and the price is absolute. The Bone Dragon… it doesn't just guard the exit. Upon its death, its soul shatters into six fragments—Hero's Marks. Only a person who absorbs a Hero's Mark can pass through the final gate into a kingdom. There are only six marks. Once they are claimed, the gate opens for a brief period and then seals forever. Anyone left behind… is considered part of the tithe. The forest consumes them."
The implication was a physical blow. It wasn't a race. It was a zero-sum game. You didn't just have to kill the final boss; you had to claim a piece of its corpse while ninety-three other desperate people tried to do the same. Betrayal wasn't just a possibility; it was an inevitability designed by the system itself.
"Her blessing," I said, breaking the horrified silence. "What is your skill?"
Talia drew the blade she'd acquired from the goddess—a sleek, unadorned rapier. "She called it Kinetic Eye," she replied, her voice regaining its strength. "I can perceive the flow of kinetic energy. I can see the trajectory of an attack before it's completed. I can see the stress points in a structure, the twitch of a muscle before a person moves. I can… see the path to victory."
A perfect skill for a duelist and assassin. And in a world where we would eventually have to fight each other for the final prize, a duelist was exactly what we needed.
"Everyone, circle up. Now," I ordered. The chaos of the hall faded into a dull roar as my team gathered close. I looked at each of them, their faces illuminated by the dying celestial light of Liora's presence.
"This is us," I said, my voice leaving no room for doubt. "This is the team that will survive. Memorize it."
I pointed to myself. "Dante. Skill: Necromancer. I command the dead."
I gestured to Erica, whose fists were clenched so tight her knuckles were white. "
Erica. Skill: Pyrokinesis. Our primary offensive power." 7
Then to Masha, who stood cool and composed, a stark contrast to the fire beside her. "
Masha. Skill: Cryomancy. Our source of control and defense." 8
To Jin, whose hand rested on the hilt of his sword. "
Jin. Skill: Swordsmanship. Our frontline combatant." 9
To Edgar, who was already observing the other groups. "
Edgar. Skill: Appraisal. He sees their stats, their abilities, their data." 10101010
To Eric, our physical powerhouse. "Eric. Skill: I never asked him to share it. He provides our muscle and endurance. He will be our shield."
To Rina, who stood with a newfound, quiet confidence. "Rina. Skill: Vitae Weaving. Our healer. She decides who lives."
To Juno, sketchpad in hand. "Juno. Skill: Soul Etching. He sees their intentions and their weaknesses."
To Neil, who was absorbing everything. "Neil. Skill: Lore Archive. He understands the world's secrets."
Finally, I looked at Talia, whose gaze was now as sharp as her blade. "Talia. Skill: Kinetic Eye. Our duelist. She will handle the most precise threats."
Ten of us. A strategic blend of offense, defense, healing, and an unparalleled wealth of intelligence-gathering abilities. But the knowledge of the Hero's Marks hung over us like a shroud. We were a team now, but the trial was designed to tear us apart.
As if on cue, the radiant light from the goddess's chamber began to fade. A collective gasp swept the hall as the divine presence that had been both a comfort and a source of terror began to withdraw. The silver motes of light dissolved, and the warm glow was replaced by the cold, alien twilight filtering through the shattered roof. Twin moons, one pearl-white and one a sickly green, cast long, distorted shadows across the clearing. The forest was no longer a backdrop. It was here.
The hushed whispers and arguments from the other teams grew louder, more desperate in the encroaching darkness. A large, brutish student who had gathered a team of similarly imposing figures caught my eye from across the hall. He grinned, a cruel, mocking expression, and drew a finger across his throat. He was one of the faces Edgar had noted when searching for powerful skills. I didn't know if he was the Mimic, but he was a predator, and he saw us as rivals.
I ignored him, turning my back to address my team. The game of questions was over.
"The Goddess is gone," I said, as the last of her light vanished and the sounds of the forest—the chittering of unseen creatures, the groan of ancient trees—rushed in to fill the silence. "The trial has begun. We move now, northeast. Stay together. Stay silent. And prepare to fight."