Chương 68: 67. Alternative Approach

Watching Eleonor speak with the other group was like a jackal conversing with coyotes: there was no real difference and I was pretty sure all of them wanted my entrails. On that note, the effects of the resistance ring were proving not enough for one of my curses. Taking the opportunity to sneak away relatively unnoticed, I dug a shallow hole in the sand and proceeded through the painful amount of pain. The only good news was that since I hadn't eaten anything, I only had to go through the motions.

That didn't stop me from cursing Harlequin at every sound. Close to two minutes later, it was over. The invisible clock of my curse was reset, and I had—if lucky—another half day to enjoy pain-free. I summoned a bit of water to wash my hands, then went back to the rest of the group. The conversations remained ongoing. Both parties were discussing a potential alliance, although I wasn't at all sure why it was in the other group's interest.

They were objectively strong, possibly slightly stronger than me if one took their deities into consideration. Meanwhile, my group was composed of two pact holders, two gifted, and Carl. Seeing the way Eleanor and the unofficial leader of the other group behaved, I got the distinct impression that they knew each other from before.

"Something bothering you?" Sparta asked, a step away. She had used the speed Mercury had granted her in an attempt to rattle me. Thankfully, the Listener card had given me some advance warning. For several seconds I kept my focus away. The truth was that I still was bothered looking her in the eyes. Whenever I did, I felt I wanted to say something stupid. I knew perfectly well that she had no way of knowing me, and yet there was that part of my past that lingered on, persisting that I check, just in case.

Negotiations bother me. I wrote on the sand with my serpent blade.

"Oh? After what I saw, I didn't think anything could bother you," she switched back to information-gathering mode. I cleared the message with my foot. How did you kill it? I wrote.

"You're not shy, are you?" She looked at me. The smile was still on her face, yet I could tell by the corners of her mouth that it was fake. Five groups were killed. I wrote. One had pack holders.

"Pact holders aren't immortal. We're participants just as you are." It was impressive how she subtly slid in the fact that she was a pact holder as well. None of you died. I ignored the new piece of information. This was far from a checkmate, but it got her to pause. Finally, she had realized that the act wasn't working on me.

"Six," she said. I raised my hands in an understanding shrug, still holding Serp.

"Six groups have died. We're the only ones left." She glanced at the rest of her group. Thanks to the Listener, I could hear that Eleonor was discussing numbers. According to her, there seemed to be eleven creatures roaming the desert. Not that I knew where she had gotten that from.

"That's why they're talking." Sparta walked up beside me.

"The trial won't end until all the creatures are killed. Or seven days have passed. That means we have six more." And already the vast majority had died, I thought. All of a sudden this felt a lot less like a rule-masters' competition and more of a participant purge.

"He killed it," Sparta pointed at a skinny old man. He seemed so thin and old that he would be perfectly at home with the withered remains in the underwater pyramid. Wearing skinny jeans, a pale blue shirt, and a suit top that had gone out of fashion in the nineties, he could pass as an office clerk or civil servant before retirement. Harlequin's Sight showed a completely different picture.

Reginald Sims Level: 5 Cards: Paladin, Beastmaster, Knave, Archer Special: Fearless, Eagle Eye, Purge Strike Patron: Thousand Strikes Weapon: Purge Blade Several things immediately stood out. Those weren't the cards he had when I saw him in the arena hall. No doubt some trading had taken place, helping him max out his current cards. Also, I had definitely not seen any weapon of that nature. Purge weapons were rare, only appearing after the late twenties of the trials.

They had the power to deal a lot more damage to "death" creatures. Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. Also, the old man wasn't the only one to have changed. I had skimmed the entire group the moment I had seen them as a matter of habit, but now that I took a better look, I could tell that they had optimized their skills to follow specific paths. Everything was streamlined to provide peak performance.

The old man was setting up to become a beast warrior—pretty much what Earcutter had been. Of the rest, I could see the start of a scout and two sword wielders. Sparta was the only one that held weird combinations, but I knew perfectly well what she would become: another thief. You're getting help, I thought as I looked at her. Still, I unsummoned my blade and went in the direction of the gathering.

"We know where three are at," the leader—a muscular man in his twenties carrying the name Jake—said.

"We can also track two more. That makes five."

"That makes half." Eleonor said in a pensive tone.

"Can't we just wait things out?" Carl suggested.

"I mean, we're obviously strong, so six days should be…" His voice trailed off as everyone else silently glared his way. Regardless of his pact and hidden agenda, he still remained more of a nuisance than anything else. Also, at this point, I knew that all his actions were deliberate. Stupidity was one thing, but as someone who thrived in a corporate structure, he undoubtedly knew that this was a forced alliance. No one trusted anyone else, which meant they couldn't afford to end up second.

As things stood, everyone was guaranteed a good prize, but I knew full well that there was more at stake. Two groups remained, which meant the pride of two rule-masters was on the line. The winner would get all the gloating rights, and the loser would be ridiculed even by those no longer in the running. Subsequently, life would be a lot more difficult for the participants under the loser's care. I raised my hand. Jake looked at me, then at my mouth.

"You've something to add?" I could tell he was disgusted, yet also just scared enough to be open to input. With a nod, I bent down and drew a star on the sand with my index finger. The moment they saw it, half the people knew exactly what I had in mind.

"You're not serious." Jake frowned. I just shrugged.

"There's no quick win. And even if there were, we're not strong enough to take it. The hounds killed off everyone else. What chance do we stand against a boss?" I expected such an answer. It was what everyone lacking experience said. Skills, cards, and gifts were good, but they came with waves. The first few trials, the participant considered himself the king of the world, recklessly taking useless risks just for the fun of it.

That would continue until their first clash with reality—the fourth trial, I would assume—when they would see how weak they actually were. For the next few trials, their attitude would change, forcing them to avoid any risks, even the high-reward ones. A simple calculation would have been enough to make it clear that fighting ten hounds was a lot riskier than going for the trial end right away. The one thing rookies couldn't understand was the concept of time.

They were all in peak condition right now and assumed they would stay like this forever. A few days of life in the desert and fatigue would kick in. I hadn't seen any of them stocking up on food, but even if they had, the reaches were a merciless place. All it would take was a sandstorm to emerge for all their cleverly devised plans to crumble. One. I raised my index finger in the air. Waiting through a second round of silence, I then pointed at myself.

"You'll take the boss on your own?" Jake arched his brows. I could almost hear the gears in everyone's mind. All of them were busy calculating whether it was better to come along or let me kill myself on my own. One way or another, I remained the greatest personal threat they had. Being alive with five active curses had already made that abundantly clear.

"If anyone could," Eleonor backed me up.

"The question is whether we join in or not."

"Splitting the group is risky," Jake protested.

"Hunting the hounds is the safer bet." He turned to the goth.

"Regardless of who's ahead." Eleonor just shrugged.

"I'll go with him," Cathy offered.

"The rest of you could follow the safe route. That way, we double our chances."

"No," Jake said firmly. Given that Cathy and I were on the same team, that was somewhat unusual. Had he seen that Cathy had been elevated to champion? None of them had a Magician card, so chances were they hadn't seen the golden glow surrounding her. On the other hand, Diana was almost certain to have bragged about it to their patron deities.

"If we—" Jake began, only to be interrupted.

"If we form two groups, both of them should have members from our original teams," Sparta said.

"It's only fair. Right?" That was something I didn't expect. What was Sparta playing at? Could it be that she knew of our relationship after all?

"I'll go with him," the woman added.

"If we end the trial, all the better for everyone. If we end up dead, it'll be all you. This way, no single group gains an advantage."

"I'm still coming along!" Cathy insisted.

"You're needed with us," Eleonor said in a low voice.

"You're our best archer." What a load of crap! Watching power plays was something I hated even in the previous run. Everyone was so busy worrying about the big picture that they were overlooking the issues before their noses. The main reason I wanted to go for the alternative trial end was because not doing so would lead to a slow death. I couldn't eat, and even drinking was painful, not to mention highly limited.

"Do you know where it is?" the old man asked.

"We'll find it," Sparta replied in full confidence.

"The issue is whether we agree on it or not." There was no open vote, but the camps were obvious. Jake and a few others were vehemently opposed, while Eleonor, Sparta, and the rest were for it. Cathy was also opposed, though for a different reason. In the end, my suggestion won out. One by one, the people who disapproved looked away, indicating they wouldn't do anything to stop us. With that, the matter was settled. We set off a few minutes later.

There were no parting words, no advice, just two people splintering from the other group in silence. It was also obvious to me that both of us were considered the unofficial champions of all participants. When it came to Sparta, things hadn't changed.

"You've no idea where it is, do you?" Sparta asked when we were a comfortable distance away. I glanced at her sideways, then shook my head. It was pretty obvious. If I had known, I wouldn't have been following the hound's blood trail.

"But you do know something about it." Her expression gained a ferocity I hadn't seen for a long time.

"Don't you?" There was no other choice than to nod. I glanced over my shoulder, just to make sure, then I summoned Serp again. Stopping, I drew a castle in the sand. It wasn't pretty. Better pictures came from kindergarten art classes, but it conveyed the point. The lack of questions told me that Sparta, or at least Mercury, recognized the place. Back in the previous run, people used to call it the "old fortress." Similar to the jungle temple, it was largely reduced to ruins.

The only thing that was known for certain was that it was heavily protected by scorpions and mummified skeletons. Ironically, the belt of guards wasn't the issue. In a way, they were a blessing, keeping participants from the real danger hiding within. Only this time, the boss wasn't a mindless centipede, but a trial noble.

"The fortress." Sparta's eyes changed color. I could feel the weight of her words.

"I can get us there." Golden eyes looked straight at me.

"The question is, can you pull it off?"