Re: From Elf Mage to Overlord Slayer-Chapter 28: The Labyrinth of Lies

Chapter 28: The Labyrinth of Lies
The first test was called The Labyrinth.
Which sounded way cooler than it actually was.
This wasn’t some epic maze with high walls and a minotaur just begging to get ganked.
Nope.
It was just a big, empty, circular room made of that same depressing emo-kid black stone.
The air was so cold you could see your breath.
In the middle, a single, huge crystal was pulsing with this weak, sickly blue light that made everyone look like a zombie.
Great.
An instructor stood in front of us.
He had a face so boring I literally forgot what he looked like the second he shut his mouth.
"The mind is a weapon," he droned.
His voice was as exciting as a level one dagger.
"Here, we will sharpen it... or we will break it."
Real original, dude.
Then he explained the rules of the game.
The crystal would shoot a magical illusion straight into our brains.
It was a maze, filled with traps and mobs based on data the Corps had on Vex and his buddies.
The goal was simple.
Survive.
Find the exit.
Yawn.
"Your rank determines the difficulty of your trial," the instructor said.
His dead eyes flicked over to me for a second.
"Rank 3 initiates will face a basic simulation."
He paused.
"Do not disappoint us."
Thanks for the vote of confidence, pal.
Really feeling the love.
A couple of the high-level players near Seraphina started snickering.
whatever.
Let them laugh.
One by one, the other noobs were called up to touch the crystal.
They’d go all stiff, their eyes would glaze over, and they’d just stand there, twitching or sweating while their brain got put through the wringer.
Most of them came out looking pale and shaky.
A couple of them just straight-up collapsed and got dragged away.
My gamer brain was already running the numbers.
This wasn’t a test of strength; it was a test of pattern recognition.
A puzzle box.
And every game has an exploit.
"Initiate Quinn," the instructor called, his voice dripping with boredom.
Finally, it was my turn.
I walked up and put my hand on the cold surface of the crystal.
The world dissolved into that familiar black-and-white static.
The login screen.
When my vision cleared, I was standing at the entrance to a maze made of shifting, shadowy walls.
Okay.
Standard procedure.
First things first.
I thought the command as clearly as I could.
/reset.
Nothing happened.
Okay, worth a shot.
Plan B.
I turned around and started walking backward, keeping my eyes locked on the entrance.
In a lot of old-school games, walking backward could sometimes trick the scripting and bypass event triggers.
For a second, the shadowy wall in front of me flickered, glitching out like a bad texture file.
So the system running this simulation was old.
Interesting.
A low growl echoed from a corridor to my left.
A shadowy beast, all claws and teeth, lunged out.
Just a basic trash mob.
I sidestepped it.
I didn’t use some fancy Slayer move, just a simple, boring step to the right.
The beast crashed into the wall and dissolved into smoke.
Too easy.
I spent the next ten minutes just walking, letting my brain map out the layout.
Left, right, right, dead end.
Okay, so it was a classic left-hand-wall algorithm maze.
This was tutorial-level crap.
Eventually, I reached the center of the Labyrinth.
It was a huge, open chamber.
And in the middle of it, a floating, shimmering exit portal.
Of course, it wasn’t that simple.
As if.
A massive creature started to form in front of the portal.
It was a "Grief-Eater," a tutorial boss designed to look scary but have really obvious weaknesses.
It was a big blob of black sludge with three flailing tentacles and one single, glowing purple eye that was basically a neon sign that screamed, "HIT ME HERE, DUMMY."
The Grief-Eater let out a deafening, gurgling roar that shook the chamber.
Okay, let’s play.
I had to pass, but I couldn’t look good doing it.
I had to look like some lucky scrub who just bumbled his way through.
It swung a tentacle at me.
A basic, telegraphed horizontal swipe attack.
The wind-up animation was a full two seconds long.
Pathetic.
"WHOOSH!"
The tentacle sliced through the air with a sound like a freight train. Just before it reached me, I "tripped" over my own feet, my ankles conveniently giving way. I fell backward in a heap, making sure to let out a pained grunt for effect as the attack whistled harmlessly over my head.
The Grief-Eater then slammed its other two tentacles into the ground.
"BOOM!"
The stone floor cracked, and a shockwave of dark energy erupted outwards. A standard area-of-effect attack. It had a five-foot radius. I rolled clumsily to the side, getting to my feet and "stumbling" just outside the damage radius.
"Wow, that was close," I muttered, pitching my voice to sound breathless and panicked.
From the corner of my eye, I could see them—faint, shimmering outlines of the instructor and the other initiates, watching my performance like a ghostly audience.
Good.
The Grief-Eater’s huge purple eye began to glow brighter, gathering energy.
That was its charging animation.
It was about to fire a beam attack.
The optimal strategy was to get behind it during the charge.
I started running to the left, my movements intentionally sloppy and inefficient.
Halfway there, I "slipped" on a patch of imaginary slime on the floor, my arms flailing wildly for balance.
My momentum carried me into an uncontrolled, sliding arc that, by sheer "coincidence," ended directly behind the monster, just as it unleashed its attack.
"FWOOSH!"
A massive beam of purple energy screamed across the chamber, slamming into the opposite wall and leaving a molten crater. Its back was now completely exposed. The weak spot was right there, a large, pulsating sac of unstable purple energy at the base of its form.
I didn’t use a spell.
That would be way too clean, too precise for a Rank 3.
Instead, I bent down and picked up a "loose rock"—a conveniently placed piece of illusory debris.
I hefted it, making the motion look awkward.
I threw it.
I made sure to use a clumsy, overhand motion, putting too much shoulder into it so the rock wobbled through the air like a badly thrown ball.
And yet, by some miracle of "luck," it flew in a perfect arc and plopped right into the pulsating weak spot.
"SQUELCH!"
A wet, disgusting sound echoed through the chamber.
<System notice: Critical Hit! Grief-Eater HP -500>
The Grief-Eater let out a final, high-pitched shriek of agony. Its body convulsed violently before it exploded into a shower of harmless, foul-smelling black goo that rained down all over the chamber.
The exit portal hummed invitingly.
I staggered towards it, clutching my side and breathing heavily, putting on the best show I could of a man who had just barely survived the fight of his life.
As I stepped through the portal, the illusion shattered.
I was back in the cold, circular room.
To complete the performance, I stumbled away from the crystal and dropped to one knee, panting for a few seconds before slowly, painfully, pushing myself back to my feet.
The instructor stared at me, his profoundly boring face a perfect mask of utter disappointment.
"You passed, Initiate," he said, and the way he said "passed" made it sound like an insult.
"Barely."
"Your technique is nonexistent."
"Your movements are chaotic."
"You survived on luck and luck alone."
"Do not expect luck to save you in the Crucible."
I just nodded meekly, keeping my head down.
"Yes, sir."
Next up was Seraphina.
She walked to the crystal with the confidence of a player who’d already bought the official strategy guide.
Her trial must have been on a whole different difficulty setting.
Nightmare mode, probably.
We couldn’t see what she saw, but we could see the effects on the crystal.
It flashed with brilliant gold and searing white light.
The air in the room crackled with raw power.
She stood there for a full thirty minutes, completely still, her expression calm and focused.
When she was done, she stepped away from the crystal without a single hair out of place.
The instructor’s jaw was practically on the floor.
"Rank 8 trial... cleared in record time," he stammered, his boring voice filled with actual awe for the first time.
"Incredible."
Seraphina just gave a small, graceful nod, like she expected nothing less.
The other high-level players started murmuring in appreciation.
Her eyes swept the room, and for a second, they met mine.
She gave me a look of such deep, pitying disdain it was almost funny.
Yep.
She was definitely the protagonist of this story arc.
And I was the weird, clumsy side character who somehow keeps failing his way to the top.
Perfect.