Chapter 16

Mona struggled to keep himself together. The twisting, jabbing pain in his foot was dragging on his attention, but the dowel sharpened to a point was hovering just over his pupil. Compared to the cloak of the void, this fear was more present and less escapable.

Aleef didn't just stab the dowel down. He took his time to hover it closer to the edge of Mona's eye. He really did want to scoop it out, using the dowel as a wedge to yank it out. Even if this maze was an artificial plane, the pain would still bring the madman satisfaction.

Mona held up one of his hands, being taken as a plea of surrender. Aleef cackled.

"If only, if only this was in the real world. I could make this permanent! Just imagine how fun that would be!"

"Ah well, I guess I'll just have to settle for this..."

Then Mona's palm reached out to touch the man's chest.

Flame Art: Heat Emission

And Aleef went gliding in the air, his breath choked out of his body. He felt his ribs break into themselves, further injuring his scorched flesh and organs. His body slammed into the maze wall, knocking the figure unconscious. The crossbow shattered on impact, and the sharpened dowel stick flew about, before sinking somewhere into the muck.

"Fuck. Haah... fuck."

Mona dragged his body up into a sitting position, looking at the misshaped figure not far away. He could be alive or dead. It didn't matter.

Mona took heavy breaths, adjusting to the moment. So much happened so fast, and he wasn't sure his palm had even touched the crazed lunatic. But the method did what it had to do, and now he was fine. Sort of.

He bit his lip, looking at his injured foot. The dowel had cut into a descent amount of flesh, and the twisting had even rend the surrounding tissue out of the wound. It looked as bad as it felt, visibly throbbing.

Mona took his sword, ignoring it all, and bit into the handle. Then, with Aura in his arm, he yanked the dowel out of his body.

With it went some of his torn flesh, and out with it came a pain worse than when it entered. A pool of blood formed on the hole, before pouring down like a small stream. Tiny flakes of skin and tissue went with the blood into the muck, soon joined by the projectile he dislodged.

It didn't look pretty.

Taking another glance to make sure his attacker was still unconscious, Mona began to activate his Aura, focused on his wound and general tiredness. The little wisps filled the nearby cells with energy, and he could feel the grievous cut throb less by the minute. Soon enough, he'd have a scab there, but his Aura Heart would be nearly empty.

The former duke's heir sighed.

"That's a problem for later."

When the bleeding had largely stopped, Mona tried his best to get into a standing position, only to feel another arc of pain threaten to drag him back to earth. His body didn't want to work with him, but he'd have to take care of this first.

For a while, all that could be heard was Mona hobbling closer to Aleef. He used one arm to support himself, the other to hold his sword. He kept his Aura charging, trying to mend the internal damage as much as he could with what little he had left. He needed as much of his mobility to return as he could.

Standing over the unconscious body, Mona watched as the chest struggled to breathe. The rib bones were shattered, in and out, leaving a pool of blood all over this man. But he couldn't take any chances. He had to be sure. This was his lifeline in this abyss.

He got on his good knee, not far away from Aleef.

It took only one gruesome slash.

In that moment, Aleef opened his eyes wide, grasping at his cut throat. The blood stained his hands, his clothes, his body, and the floor of the maze as he gurgled out a sound. Shock and worry filled the man's eyes, staring at Mona as the life left his existence.

It was too life-like after all.

Mona didn't know if Aleef still had a second life. From that day he went against the presumed countess, he had a good memory of all the people present. Aleef wasn't among them. But he would be out of the trial otherwise. Mona's face was grim, not from corpse sitting before him.

He knows.

The Flame Art was his secret card, only to use in the most dire of moments. And now Aleef had knowledge of it. If the man really did return to the main hall, he could easily tell the guards. And then, whether Mona left the hall now or after this first trial, he'd be screwed. The torn pages were still on his body.

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Fuck.

He could only hope that Aleef would get ignored for failing to subdue him. He prayed the countess didn't value Aleef highly, and the madman would only get treated like he was making excuses.

This method was too powerful after all.

He sat down a tad away from Aleef's corpse, taking the man's crossbow and sack with him. He took a long look at it, and decided to stow it. He made a mistake trading for short range. Dodging an attack like this in the maze was difficult, and he failed to recognize that. Opening the sack, all Mona could see was 1 loaf of half eaten bread, and the tin, untouched.

"Why aren't they touching the tin?"

Mona was confused, but he didn't think about it. The bread didn't seem to be moist with saliva, but he still broke a chunk off to avoid it. He ate the rest, plus one of those tins he had before. The sugary flavor was too strong, but gave him the water his body needed.

Mona cultivated quietly by the maze wall. The throbbing in his foot lessened considerably, and he could feel the Aura wisps returning to his core. He was back to half of his capacity. Not a lot, but enough to get him by for now.

He tied the items into the sack, now expanded with the extra cloth he got from Aleef. His untouched bread and tin jostled inside, the crossbow hanging off the side as well. It was in arm's reach, and wouldn't need its first shot loaded.

Mona was back walking, going through the forks he came from. While he was interested in exploring, he didn't want to veer too off areas he was already familiar with. Something in his gut told him that everyone would eventually reach the maze center, regardless of how they traveled, as long as they took down mobs. It made sense; the first Trial couldn't be too difficult, could it?

After a short while, Mona found himself in a fork of five paths. He stopped for a moment, feeling his throat parched. He undid his sack, taking out a tin, and began to pull it open.

There inside, under the dim lighting, he could see the orange purplish fluid glistening. Yum, barely digestible syrup. He tilted his head back, finishing the tin in one go, before tossing it aside and kept moving. It was easier that way; the taste clung less on the tongue.

As Mona went down the first path on the left, he heard something. A different sound.

Not goblins.

Not participants.

Something else.

He instantly got into a crouch. Trading his weapon for the crossbow, he aimed its sights down the path. And then it appeared.

Reddish black fur. Two pupil-less eyes. Constantly sniffing the air, and covered in better armor and clubs the goblins could have.

A kobold was here, and looking at Mona directly. It couldn't see him, but it definitely could smell the blood on his body.

It came at him, a run without much time to accelerate.

"Graar~~!"

Mona waited ready, and when he felt it was good enough, he pulled the latch.

Twing!

The dowel went flying, landing squarely in the head of the kobold. It's ears shot up in alarm, before the creature collapsed in place.

Pale yellow blood seeped from the dowel, mixing into the muck.

One shot, one kill. Mona got up, adding another stick to the crossbow. He then kneeled for a moment, reaching for the club the dog creature dropped. It looked much better than his thin sword, and was visibly made of better material.

"GRAAR~~~!"

"GRAAR~~~!"

"GRAAR~~~!"

The roars came from all sides of the passageway. Back and front, Mona could hear the sound of kobolds roaring in anguish and rage.

Before he could lift the weapons, he could see them running in.

Clubs, axes, even bows. Seven on one side, four on the other. And more was coming.

All Mona could do was shake his head. What rotten luck. He had his hopes up too soon.

The sets of kobolds began to bark at each other, communicating. They came to an agreement rather easily, then stared at Mona with venom in his eyes.

He'd killed their kin, and was even looting his corpse, unforgivable.

The six of the seven began to surround Mona, leaving him no space to escape. One separated from the others, rucksack in hand. It took something out, then threw it towards the other five.

A tin? What are they doing with a ---

The first blow slammed into his head, sending him into the muck. He felt blood drip from his head, and struggled under the muck, trying to get up and spit whatever it was out. Then the second came on his body, then the third on his leg. His Aura quickly ran out, unable to keep up with the attacks.

Old injuries opened, new injuries appeared. Mona struggled to breathe, laying facing up in the muck. A kobold stood atop him, snickering as it seemed to say something. He didn't know what it said. He couldn't hear it anyway; his ears had been injured as well.

Then for fun, four of these kobolds went to hold each of his limbs. And they yanked.

The pain...it couldn't be described. The flesh underneath broke first. Then the tissues. Then the muscles. And what remained of the skin. First went his right arm. Then his left. He could stay awake long enough to see his legs get ripped off. His brain was assailed by a horrible tired agony as rivers of blood poured out of his shoulders. His eyes glassed easily, and the kobolds had their fill.

*****

One life lost. Day Three of the First Trial.

Mona got up with a shock. He heaved breaths, his palms on the ground as he vomited out whatever his empty stomach had. Spit and bile came flying, and a hacking cough followed until he sat back down. He used his hands to cradle his head, then remembered his arms were still there.

That's right...it's an illusion...I still have my arms...I'm not dead.

The ending traumatized him. That, that was Death. Death by delimbing. The last bit he saw were the kobolds snacking on his fingers. He threw up again at the thought.

Steadying his breathing a long while later, Mona wiped his eyes dry with his clothes, then looked around where he was. He was back, back at the maze dead end he started. Or maybe, at a different dead end. He couldn't tell the difference.

His armor was still there. And his clothes. And the ripped chapter. It seemed everything was still with him.

Wait. Except for his sack. He scanned around quickly, but couldn't see it anywhere.

No food. No syrup.

And he was back at the beginning of the Trial. He punched the ground in anger, cursing at everything that happened so far.

"Fuck."

He sat back down, rubbing his head. It was back to square one, and no food to take with him. How would he get there now?

He stayed seated, collecting his thoughts. After being tortured to death, he needed a moment to get back to normal. The maze could wait, for now.