"Haa... haa..."

  Meanwhile, in another sector, Sero was running for his life.

  [Rank 1,743: Sero - 0 Points]

  He had zero points. He hadn't fought a single thing. His only goal was to be one of the 500 survivors.

  "There's the Grey Core!" a voice shouted from the intersecting corridor.

  Sero skidded around a corner, coming face to face with a duo of students wielding fireballs. They grinned, seeing the easiest target in the arena.

  "Easy points," one of them sneered. "A free 50 points just for walking."

  Sero backed away, his back hitting the cold stone wall. His legs were shaking uncontrollably.

  'I can't... I can't fight them...'

  The student raised his hand, a fireball swelling in his palm.

  SWISH.

  A blur of green arc cut through the air.

  The fireball was sliced in half, dissipating into harmless sparks before it could leave the caster's hand. Asher Leonhart landed smoothly between Sero and the attackers, his spear spinning in a defensive arc.

  [Rank 7: Asher Leonhart - 420 Points]

  "Two against one?" Asher smirked, though his golden eyes were cold. "How ungentlemanly. Why don't you try stealing points from someone who can actually fight back?"

  The attackers froze. They looked at the spear, then at the leaderboard rank.

  "Asher Leonhart... Rank 7..." one of them muttered, paling. "Run!"

  They didn't hesitate. They turned and fled into the maze, deciding that 50 points weren't worth getting skewered by a powerful spear user.

  Asher sighed, lowering his spear. He turned to the trembling Sero and offered a hand, putting on his best 'friendly' smile.

  "You alright?" Asher asked.

  Sero stared at the hand, then at Asher's face, stunned that a high-ranker had just saved him. "Y-Yes... Thank you..."

  Asher pulled him up. 'Good. First contact established.'

  "Stay close to me," Asher ordered gently. "We need to survive until the count drops."

  _______ ____ __

  And then, there was Ryn.

  He was currently deep in Sector 9, casually leaning against a wall in a secluded dead-end corridor, shielded from the worst of the chaos.

  [Rank 707: Ryn Dale - 250 Points]

  While the rest of the arena was a bloodbath of screaming students and exploding constructs, Ryn was busy with a far more pressing matter.

  He was peeling the foil wrapper off a fluffy, slightly squashed pancake.

  "Thanks, Mom," he whispered, taking a large bite. The sweetness of the honey and berries exploded in his mouth, washing away the dust of the battlefield.

  He couldn't be blamed. It was well past noon, the exam had dragged on for hours, and he was absolutely starving. Fighting on an empty stomach was against his principles.

  As he chewed, he glanced at his score. 250 points. Not terrible for someone who hadn't broken a sweat.

  He hadn't hunted anyone down, of course. That was too much effort. He had simply stumbled upon two students who had been locked in a fierce duel for more than ten minutes. By the time Ryn arrived, they had exhausted all their arcana and were panting on the ground, barely able to stand.

  They were stupid. They had forgotten the cardinal rule of a battle royale: never leave yourself open.

  Ryn had simply walked up, tapped their barrier generators to shatter the last 1% of their shields, and claimed the points. It was basically charity work. Add in the two small scout constructs he had dismantled earlier, mostly because they were buzzing too loudly and annoying him, and he sat comfortably in the middle of the pack.

  The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

  Gulp.

  He swallowed the bite and looked up at the sky projection.

  [Candidates Remaining: 819]

  "Just a few more," he mumbled, wiping a crumb from his lip.

  If about three hundred more people could kindly get eliminated in the next ten minutes, he could go home sooner and take a long nap.

  "Come on," he encouraged the distant sounds of explosions. "Work harder."

  He took another bite of the pancake, savoring the peace amidst the war.

  'Mm~, delicious as always!'

  Just as Ryn reached into his pocket to retrieve another pancake, his hand froze.

  'I can't even have lunch in peace...'

  He sighed, mentally bidding farewell to his peaceful break, and slowly looked up.

  Standing atop the wall just a few meters away was a figure with silver hair and eyes that crackled with suppressed lightning.

  Mirana Dume.

  She was looking down at him with an unreadable, cold expression. Her uniform was pristine, not a speck of dust on it, despite the chaos she had undoubtedly caused elsewhere.

  Ryn blinked. Mirana stared.

  A heavy, awkward silence stretched between them for ten long seconds. The sounds of distant explosions seemed to fade away, leaving only the tension in the alleyway.

  Ryn looked at the pancake in his hand, then back at the terrifying girl who could probably vaporize an ordinary boy like him with a sneeze.

  But he already figured out her personality. She wouldn't attack others unless they challenged her.

  'Then why is she staring?' Ryn wondered, feeling her gaze bore into him. 'Could it be...?'

  Slowly, he extended the treat toward her.

  "...Want one?"

  Mirana's eyes flickered. For a split second, the cold mask cracked, revealing genuine confusion, before she shook her head slightly.

  "...No."

  "Suit yourself," Ryn shrugged, withdrawing his hand.

  He was about to take a bite when her voice cut through the air again, sharp and direct.

  "...You can teleport, right?"

  Ryn paused, the pancake halfway to his mouth. He didn't look at her, keeping his gaze fixed on the fluffy pastry.

  "...No."

  "I saw it," Mirana stated flatly. "In the Grand Hall."

  "..."

  Ryn slowly lowered the pancake. There was no point arguing with someone who had eyes like a hawk.

  "...Yes."

  "I need your help."

  Ryn looked at her, then at the comfortable wall he was leaning against.

  "...Can I refuse?"

  Mirana didn't answer immediately. Instead, she just stared at him, a small, dangerous arc of blue lightning flickering between her fingertips.

  Crack.

  With a casual flick of her wrist, she fired.

  The bolt of lightning shrieked through the air, missing Ryn's ear by less than an inch. He felt the heat of the ozone singeing his hair before—

  BOOM!

  An explosion rocked the alleyway behind him. Ryn turned his head slowly to see the smoking remains of a 'Stealth-Stalker' construct that had been creeping up on his blind spot, now reduced to a pile of molten scrap.

  He looked back at Mirana. Her expression hadn't changed.

  "...Guess I can't," Ryn murmured.

  He sighed, mourning the loss of his break time, and stuffed the half-open pancake back into his bag. He dusted off his hands and turned to face her fully.

  "So, what do you need my help with?"

  "You will see once we arrive," she said, jumping down from the wall and landing gracefully beside him. She glanced at the low score floating above his head. "And don't worry. I will help you reach a thousand points before that."

  Ryn blinked. A guaranteed pass from the rank one candidate? That would save him a lot of trouble.

  "...Alright," he agreed, seeing no point in arguing with her. "Lead the way."

  "...Follow me."

  Just like that, Ryn managed to get a free ride in the practical exam.

  And, just like her father, Mirana Dume was a woman of her word.

  In just two minutes, she dragged him, literally and metaphorically, into the upper echelon of the scoreboard.

  The points practically delivered themselves.

  As they moved through the maze, groups of cocky candidates would spot the silver-haired girl. Blinded by greed and the "Alliance" mentality, they thought they could take down the 'exhausted empress' if they swarmed her.

  "There she is!"

  "Get her! We split the points!"

  It was a massacre.

  Mirana didn't even stop walking. A flick of her wrist sent arcs of lightning dancing through the corridors, paralyzing entire squads instantly. A stomp of her foot utilized her Force Vein to shatter their defenses.

  They would drop to their knees, their shields flickering at 1-5% integrity.

  Then, Mirana would stop and look at Ryn.

  Ryn would sigh, walk up to the paralyzed, terrified students, and gently poke their foreheads.

  Pop.

  [Eliminated. +150 Points]

  [Eliminated. +210 Points]

  ...

  It was one of the easiest grinds of his life.

  By the time they reached the center of the maze, Ryn checked his status.

  [Rank 289: Ryn Dale - 2,150 Points]

  'It seems those guys had a lot of points,' Ryn noted, dismissing the notification. He had doubled the requirement, which meant he was safe as long as he didn't get eliminated.

  "We're here," Mirana announced, stopping abruptly.

  The maze walls opened up into a massive, circular arena.

  Ryn looked at the center, then at Mirana, and thought, 'I guess I was right.'

  Because a vile, bubbling moat of viscous black liquid encircled the central platform, cutting it off from the rest of the maze completely.

  Ryn sniffed the air and wrinkled his nose. The acrid scent was unmistakable.

  'Abyssal Tar,' he analyzed silently. 'Highly corrosive and releases neurotoxic fumes. Touching it means losing a limb.'

  However, he glanced at Mirana. With her powers, crossing a twenty-meter gap of poison should be child's play for her. She could just glide over it or launch herself through the air.

  'Since the poison isn't the problem,' Ryn concluded, 'then, it must be related to that.'

  His gaze shifted past the deadly moat to the solitary figure sitting atop a pillar in the very center of the clearing.

  It was a sleek, mid-sized humanoid construct, clad in lightweight matte-grey armor. Large, glowing crystal lenses were embedded in its palms and chest, humming with charged energy.

  [ Boss Monster: Phase-Stalker ]