Alan still didn’t understand what had just happened.

  The assignment he and his partner received had sounded almost laughably simple. Deliver an amulet to the village headman’s house, clear out a handful of low-rank monsters along the way, and that was it. Definitely better than his previous Copper Rank trial. Back then, Alan had spent hours – nearly until sunset – trying to solve a maddening puzzle just to unlock the entrance to the final dungeon.

  This time, at least, he could take a break from that horrible written exam and let his sword do the work.

  They reached the correct house without incident. Alan pushed the door open – and the world shifted.

  Instead of a modest village room, they found themselves standing in a narrow, suffocating passage. Rotting wooden supports clung to the walls, and the air smelled of dust and old stone. An abandoned mine.

  Alan’s mood plummeted.

  So the examiners had decided to throw them into a multi-layered dungeon after all.

  He hated enclosed spaces.

  Worse, it wasn’t even clear what they were supposed to do now. The artifact was still in his hand.

  But where exactly were they supposed to deliver it?

  “Maybe this is meant to test our adaptability,” his partner suggested. “Anyone can kill monsters. Even common mercenaries. But we’re adventurers – we’re supposed to handle the unexpected.”

  Alan had his own thoughts about “unexpected situations,” but he kept them to himself. Swearing wouldn’t solve anything.

  Then they found the first body.

  Or rather, what was left of it.

  Someone – or something – had torn a candidate into pieces. Small pieces.

  And scattered them across the tunnel.

  For a few long seconds, he simply stared.

  The copper rank badge pinned to what remained of the candidate’s cloak left little room for doubt. This wasn’t part of the illusion. Or if it was, it was far too detailed.

  His partner swallowed. “This… this isn’t normal.”

  No. It wasn’t.

  Guild trials were controlled. Dangerous, yes – but controlled. Fatalities during exams were rare to the point of being legendary. They moved carefully, stepping around what remained of the unfortunate candidate. The tunnel walls bore deep gouges.

  A low scraping sound echoed from deeper in the tunnel. Alan tightened his grip on his sword. His palms were damp.

  Something massive forced its way through the wall, rock crumbling around it like dry clay.

  His partner’s voice came out strained. “That… that’s not part of the exam.”

  The creature tilted its head slightly.

  And then it moved.

  Fast.

  Alan barely raised his sword in time. The impact blasted him backward, slamming him into a wooden support beam hard enough to crack it.

  Pain exploded through his ribs.

  The monster moved with terrifying speed.

  Alan hadn’t even managed to get back on his feet when it closed the distance. One massive hand shot out, seized his partner by the head – and squeezed.

  There was a sickening crunch.

  The body dropped limply to the ground.

  Alan forced himself to look.

  He could see the numbers burning in crimson above the creature’s form.

  There was no strategy here. No clever trick. No hidden mechanic he could exploit in a heartbeat.

  The only correct decision was obvious.

  Run.

  Run while it was distracted with the corpse.

  And so Alan ran.

  He didn’t choose a direction. He didn’t look back. He sprinted down the nearest tunnel, boots slipping on gravel, lungs burning.

  He had found several more bodies, injured his arm in a brief fight, and only then stumbled across Lilia and Den. With the help of the girl’s artifacts, moving and hiding had become far easier.

  Eventually, Kelmir and Farden joined their small group as well.

  “The space has completely changed,” Kelmir said after everyone had shared what happened to them. “We’re no longer on the testing grounds. It may look similar, but this isn’t the Guild’s arena. This feels more like a massive magical pocket – something that pulled all of us inside.”

  Lilia shook her head.

  “I’m no Tower mage, but I know the basics. While my detection artifacts were still functioning, none of them could find the boundary of this place. Whatever this is, it’s at least five miles across.”

  “More,” Kelmir said quietly. “Much more.”

  Kelmir was acting like a know-it-all again, as if he truly understood more than the rest of them. At least Lilia could use mana. Kelmir was just another ordinary adventurer, same as Alan. And what did it matter, really? Five miles or fifty – they weren’t getting out either way.

  Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

  “Besides,” Lilia continued, “creating a pocket space of that scale would require an absurd amount of mana and an unbelievably high personal level. Do you really think the Mage Council has nothing better to do than turn a Guild exam into a massacre? There has to be another explanation besides a ‘pocket.’”

  “Maybe it’s the Archmage.”

  Kelmir flinched and shot an annoyed look at Farden.

  Farden didn’t back down.

  “Think about it. No one could defeat him for a hundred years – not even the Tower mages. The Ascended didn’t intervene either. And then suddenly, a blessed hero appears, an Alliance forms, and the hero kills the Archmage. I saw Aigon myself at a dinner in the City Hall. He looked like any other knight. Nothing special. My father said the same thing, and he has a good nose for these things.”

  A heavy silence settled over the tunnel.

  Farden’s words sounded like blasphemy.

  “Watch your tongue,” Den said quietly. His fingers tightened around the hilt of his weapon until his knuckles turned white. “Our king personally welcomed the Hero. As did the other rulers. People lose their heads over talk like that.”

  “Watch it here?” Farden echoed. “And who exactly is going to report me? The walls?”

  No one answered.

  Kelmir watched his partner, his green eyes narrowed.

  Alan suddenly realized he didn’t like him.

  Because he didn’t understand him.

  Years as an adventurer had taught Alan how to read people. Most were simple. Fear, greed, pride – whatever drove them eventually revealed itself. But Kelmir was different. The impressions refused to settle into anything coherent.

  Friendliness. Danger. Willingness to help.

  And danger again.

  “In any case,” Kelmir continued calmly, as if nothing had happened, “it doesn’t matter who caused this. What matters is something else. This place is unstable.”

  “Unstable?” Lilia repeated.

  “Yes.”

  Kelmir lowered himself to one knee and ran his fingers across the ground. Then he closed his eyes.

  Only for a second.

  “This tunnel…” he said quietly. “It wasn’t here before. Not when I scanned the area prior to meeting you. And I can feel new ones forming.”

  Alan felt a chill run down his spine.

  “What do you mean it wasn’t here?” he asked.

  “Scanned?” Lilia echoed, frowning. “You can use mana too? Then where are your artifacts?”

  Kelmir looked at her, but instead of answering, he asked his own question.

  “You said you know the fundamentals. If we assume my pocket-space theory is correct, what happens when the internal structure of a pocket space starts changing?”

  “Things appear,” Lilia said slowly. “And things disappear…”

  She went pale.

  Alan and Den exchanged a glance. Neither of them understood a word of it. Kelmir noticed their expressions and interpreted them correctly.

  “It means the tunnels don’t just appear,” he said. “They can disappear too. Along with anyone inside them. The space folds in on itself, over and over, until it becomes smaller than a grain of dust… and vanishes completely.”

  Alan imagined his body folding again and again, like a sheet of paper being creased by invisible hands. He must have gone pale, because he could feel the blood draining from his face.

  Kelmir broke the silence.

  “We need to find an exit,” he said calmly. “Standing still is the worst thing we can do.”

  “And you know where it is?” Den asked. There was no mockery in his voice – only exhaustion.

  “No,” Kel answered honestly. “But I know how to look.”

  He said it with enough certainty that no one argued.

  Lilia was the first to nod.

  “Can you still use your scanning?” Lilia asked Kelmire.

  “Of course. I can’t exactly lead you into the unknown blindfolded. We need to find a safe spot,” Kelmirreplied. “This space is too unstable. I won’t be able to do it on the move.”

  “Do what, exactly?” Den asked.

  Kelmir paused for a moment, as if weighing how much to reveal.

  “A ritual. It’ll help us determine the direction to the boundary.”

  Farden snorted.

  “A ritual? Without artifacts? Without a magic circle? Or are you planning to draw it in the dirt with your finger?”

  Kelmir met his gaze calmly.

  “If it comes to that – yes. Haven’t you seen enough today?”

  There was no challenge or irritation in his voice. Only certainty. Farden fell silent.

  Alan felt nothing but cold, fatigue, and a growing pressure, as if the walls themselves were watching them.

  “How do we know when a spot is safe?” he asked.

  “Where the space isn’t shifting,” Kelmirreplied. “Or at least moves more slowly.”

  “And you can tell that?”

  Kelmir didn’t answer directly.

  “Sometimes.”

  They kept moving.

  Now it wasn’t just about finding the exit. They were searching for a spot that didn’t change – a place they could trust. And for that, they had to rely completely on Kelmir.

  The tunnel gradually widened, leading them into a small stone chamber. Kelmirstopped immediately.

  “Wait.”

  He knelt and touched the ground.

  Closing his eyes, he stayed still for a few seconds. Nobody moved. Alan held his breath without even realizing why.

  Finally, Kelmir opened his eyes.

  “This is better.”

  “Better… how much better?” Farden asked.

  “Enough.”

  “Enough for what?”

  Kelmir stood.

  “To try.”

  Alan remembered that these two had clashed earlier that morning. Apparently, they still hadn’t learned to communicate properly.

  Kelmir began to survey the room, walking in a circle, pausing at several points as if checking something. Then he nodded to himself.

  “I’ll need a few minutes,” he said. “While I work, don’t wander far.”

  “What should we do?” Den asked.

  “Make sure nothing changes,” Kelmir replied.

  “And if it does?”

  Kelmirmet his gaze.

  “Then tell me immediately.”

  He lowered himself to one knee in the center of the chamber and drew a line across the stone with his finger. For a moment, nothing happened.

  Then a thin line appeared on the surface. Not a scratch. Light. Pale, almost imperceptible.

  Alan blinked, unsure if he was really seeing it.

  Kelmir drew a second line. Then a third.

  The lines began to form a pattern.

  Lilia drew in a quiet breath.

  “You don’t have a focusing artifact,” she whispered.

  “No,” Kelmir replied without lifting his head.

  “Then how are you… ”

  He didn’t answer.

  The air in the chamber grew heavier.

  Somewhere deep in the tunnels, a distant, muffled sound echoed.

  Alan tightened his grip on his sword and, for the first time in a long while, found himself hoping that Kelmir truly knew what he was doing.

  Kel didn’t open his eyes.

  Vision would only get in the way now.

  The stone beneath his fingers was cold, but the sensation quickly faded into irrelevance. What mattered far more was the structure beneath the surface – the tension in the space itself. The fractures running through it.

  He drew the final line and stilled.

  The circle was complete.

  A simple anchoring construct. Nowhere near strong enough to stabilize a pocket of this size.

  His palm rested in the center of the circle.

  He activated it.

  Kel let his perception sink deeper. And felt it immediately.

  The space was broken.

  He pushed further.

  His body reacted at once – sharp pain tore through his chest, as if icy fingers had clenched around his heart. His breath hitched. For a moment, the circle flickered.

  The price of using power beyond what this body could endure.

  Kel ignored it. Pain was expected. Pain was irrelevant.

  He searched for the boundary.

  Any direction where the structure thinned.

  Where the pressure weakened.

  Where the pocket ended and something else began.

  At first, there was nothing.

  Just pressure. Dense, layered, wrong. Kel adjusted the flow. Precision over force.

  The pain in his chest sharpened. His pulse became uneven. He could feel the circle draining him faster than planned. The lines beneath his hand dimmed slightly.

  Too slow.

  He extended his perception further.

  The pressure surged back along the connection.

  Kel’s fingers tensed. A thin line of blood ran from his nose and fell onto the circle. The moment the blood touched the glowing lines, the construct flared brighter.

  Behind him, someone shifted. He heard it dimly, as if from underwater.

  He didn’t stop. He pushed one step deeper. And for a fraction of a second... He felt outside.

  The circle trembled violently. The lines distorted. Stone beneath his palm cracked with a dry, brittle sound.

  Too much.This body was reaching its limit.

  He held the connection, breathing slowly, forcing the failing rhythm of this borrowed heart to stabilize.

  He had found it.

  Not an exit.

  But a point where an exit could be made.

  He stopped. Slowly opened his eyes. The lines on the stone had become nothing more than ordinary scratches again. But Kel already knew the direction.

  He stood up. The world tilted for a moment. This body was reminding him of its limitations again.

  “Did you find something?” Lilia asked immediately.

  “Maybe”

  “Maybe?” Farden crossed his arms.

  Kel ignored the tone. “The space is thinner in that direction.”

  “And what does that mean?”

  “It means,” Kel said calmly, “that we have a chance to get out.”

  The world went still.

  [I DON’T WANT TO DIE. I HOPE YOU DON’T EITHER]