Chapter 67: Dexterity Trial (Patreon)

[Trial reset in progress…]

[…]

[..]

[Please stand by.]

Logan didn’t know what he was expecting when they left the room and entered the hallway, but the sight of Thorin and Errol’s bodies wasn’t it. For some reason, he’d assumed the corpses would dissolve, ready to be reformed in the clearing, or freeze, like bodies in a morgue. Instead, a pool of liquid—dissolving clear oozing pus and blood—spread from their bodies to the floor, and a noxious odour like a dead rat left to roast in a hundred-degree weather made him cover his mouth and hold back a gag.

Asthea wrinkled her nose. “This way,” she said and led them past the bodies and down the hallway. She clutched the bandage wrapped around her back and moved like each step caused more pain, but she could walk again, with no signs of the paralytic. Her constitution attribute must have fought it off.

They walked further down the hallway until the stench faded. Asthea nodded at the floor with a quirk of her white eyebrow at Arsen.

“Best we’re going to get,” he said. Then removing a bundled blanket from his spatial storage, he arranged it into a pile, like a bundled-up dog bed.

Asthea sunk down on it with a sigh of relief.

Ding!

[Trial reset complete.]

Logan brightened and looked towards the door.

Asthea snorted. “Sleep, remember. We need rest.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Right.” A couple of hours wouldn’t hurt. He could give them that.

Logan was about to take out a blanket from his spatial storage, but then he hesitated. He’d told them he’d found a ‘garbage grade’ spatial storage, and if they saw him taking out piles of blankets in addition to the water and food he’d already removed, they might get suspicious. He knew that although they were bitter, they hadn’t yet gotten to the point of wanting to murder him. If they knew about his collar, that might nudge them along.

He studied the cold-looking stone floor dubiously and then lowered himself to sit down and lean against the wall.

Logan rubbed a hand over his face and then stifled a yawn before narrowing his eyes. Arsen was staring at him in amusement. Not a good sign.

“What is it?” Logan asked.

Arsen grinned with his missing teeth. “I’ve never tried the dexterity trial. Never lasted long enough, but in a way, I was glad for it. From what I’ve heard, you’ll be in for a world of pain.”

Logan squinted at him. “We’re going into the same trial. You’ll be in the same position as me.”

Arsen’s grin became shit-eating. “Asthea and I will concede when it gets too difficult. But I’ve learned something about you, little man. You want to excel and grab every point available to you, even if you have to pry it out of the jaws of death. No, you won’t be giving up.”

Asthea sighed long-sufferingly. “It can’t be as bad as all that, surely. Why don’t we try to get along? I’m not happy about the way my trial has gone, but that’s no reason to be aggressive. We’re teammates!” She gave them a bright grin that looked brittle on the edges.

Logan shifted, trying to get comfortable. “I’m all for getting along. It just hasn’t seemed that you lot have felt the same way. I can be civil if you can.” He gave Arsen a long stare.

Arsen met his stare with a hard look, hesitated, then glanced at Asthea and finally nodded.

“After all,” said Asthea, “in a way, we should be thanking you. Our people don’t get this far for a reason! Dexterity and perception aren’t priorities for us, so we just laze around, feast, and wait until the time limit’s up so we can go into the second trial—the fun trial!”

Logan eyed her in curiosity. “The fun trial?”

She rubbed her hands together. “Our clan loves war! There’s nothing better than a chance to win at strategy and tactics, the chance to outcompete each other and show off. Plus, there’s—”

“Asthea,” Arsen warned.

Asthea rolled her eyes. “He knows it already. Despite his name, he’s not stupid.”

“There’s a what?” Logan asked.

“A reward to the winner. It varies each trial, so don’t ask me what it is.”

“Right,” he murmured softly. If they knew about that, they had to know that the System had given him a reward for winning each attribute trial. The chances of others not receiving the same True Grit Rings in other trials were slim at best. That meant they knew he had something valuable, something worth stealing… maybe even killing over.

“Anyway,” Asthea said with a yawn. “Time for rest. Don’t worry, we’ll wake you up if you oversleep. I know you want to give yourself enough time for a good showing!”

Logan said nothing, only looked at them with half-lidded eyes. He wasn’t tired, and something told him to be on alert. He wasn’t going to nod off, not when anything could happen.

Even a knife in the back.

***

[Countdown: Day 7 of Day 365 before species culling. Only the worthy survive.]

[Current rank: 401 out of 6,058,124,189.]

[You are currently in the 1%.]

[Advance and grow.]

Logan opened his eyes, a kink in his neck making him feel like he’d slept in the shittiest possible…

Oh no.

He felt his heartbeat throb, trepidation making panic surge. He’d fallen asleep!

Sitting up with a gasp, he blinked blearily at the empty hallway around him. Asthea and Arsen had disappeared. With a surge of alarm, he glanced down at his hands, blowing out a breath of relief when he realized that his gloves covered his fingers and the True Grit Rings. They were exoskeleton gloves—there was no prying those up, and no way he’d been robbed.

Well, at least Arsen hadn’t murdered him to get around it. The last thing he remembered was feeling wide awake, jacked up on too much adrenaline to think of nodding off.

For some reason, he’d done the opposite.

And based on how refreshed he felt, he must have needed the rest. The last time he’d fallen asleep, he’d fallen unconscious, his missing hand and the trauma of losing Ernie taking a massive toll. Since then, he’d been running around like a crazy man from trial to trial. Gradually, exhaustion must have kicked in without him being aware of it. His artificial [Undead Stamina] must have acted like a boost to keep him going, but that was no replacement for true REM sleep.

Logan got up and stretched. It felt as if he’d slept for a whole night rather than….

Oh crap.

“System, how much time is left?”

[Trial Progress: 4.49 hours remaining.]

Shit! Shit! Shit! Now, he had less than five hours to get through two trials. As he searched for Arsen and Asthea, resentment festered in his stomach. That ‘nap’ had been way more than a couple of hours.

Logan found them in front of the chamber door looking refreshed and healed. They were giving the corpses of their companions a wide berth. Asthea’s wrapped bandage was gone, and she’d managed to straighten her hair, the strands less knotted.

Arsen’s bangs were back to being spiky like a hedgehog, and he’d pulled his hair into a ponytail instead of a bun. The fine silver filaments wrapped around the strands glinted in the blue glow of the hallway.

“Ah,” he said, clicking his tongue. “Finally woke up, did you?”

Asthea cracked her neck and stretched. “Sorry we didn’t wake you, but you looked like you needed the rest.” Despite her tidier appearance, her face was hollow and dark circles looked like bruises underneath her eyes. It was a stark difference between the cheering, peace-making Asthea from earlier.

“Well,” she said with a sigh. “Ready to get started?”

“You’re forgetting something,” said Arsen with a nudge to her shoulder.

Her mouth twisted and she looked off to the side, her expression filled with sadness. “At this point, does it matter? I’m a complete failure. Mother will never view me as a viable ruler, not after these results.”

Arsen frowned. “You know better than that. This isn’t over. If you give up now, you’re not the girl that challenged me to a duel when you were barely tall enough to trip over your own feet.”

“I don’t know, Arsen.”

Arsen began to look worried. “Where’s that girl now?”

Asthea grimaced. “She’s in a puddle of defeat.” Pacing, she ran a hand through her long white hair, straightening it. It seemed like a soothing, mindless task to keep herself occupied.

Logan was beginning to feel uncomfortable. He’d never wanted to be that guy. Obviously, this trial meant something for Asthea, something important, and Logan had won it instead.

He cleared his throat. “Could you not enter the trial again? A do-over?”

They both gave him incredulous looks. “The trial dungeon is a closely guarded resource. It opens one year in twenty. Most groups take a week or two to finish it, which makes the opportunity for others rare. To get another chance would be the height of excess; unforgivable when others are due their own Trial of Awakening.”

“But…” Logan’s discovery of the underwater portal was looking increasingly suspect. What had it been doing there? Had someone purposely placed it in front of the lair of a monster, like a dragon in front of their hoard? And that wasn’t his only question. If it had transported him to the same trial that Asthea’s people used, were there similar portals on different worlds?

Asthea forced a smile. “You’re right. I shouldn’t be so negative. And we still have the fun trial to look forward to! Sorry to say, little man, but you hardly look like the most competent commander. It’s unlikely that you’ll do well on the warfare trial. It was designed for the Silverdagger clan!”

Arsen cracked his big knuckles. “That’s the spirit! Plus, don’t discount that this will be fun! Fun as a spectator sport!” Chuckling, he gave Logan a shit-eating grin and then led the way into the chamber.

Curling his hands into fists, Logan stared a hole into his back and followed.

Ding!

[You have entered the dexterity trial. You will compete individually but only advance to the next attribute as a group. Once the last person concedes or drops, the group will advance to the next attribute.]

[After 24 hours, your overall individual performance will be judged against the rest of your party. The individual with the highest attribute increases in each area will be granted a bonus.]

Logan entered the chamber like normal, but then came to a stop.

What the hell was this? Unlike the previous trials, there were no floating platforms, a field, or a wheel. There was… a table and chairs?

Inside of the immense oval room, right in the middle, there was a round table barely bigger than a kitchen table. Around the table were three chairs, chairs that looked sculpted out of that same metal material as the platforms and chains. There was nothing else, just bare stone floor and walls. The same blue glow lit up the room, but this time, the light flooded the table, like a spotlight in a theatre.

Logan crept forward, the others following him.

Arsen looked at the table and barked out a laugh. “Elfegi was telling the truth! Truly a sadistic trial. Even though those noncalgigizes are missing a few essential proteins in their heads, he was true to his word. Surprising, since Classes that require dexterity are the work of tricksters and cheaters.” He cut a side glance at Logan. “You should have started with this trial first. It fits you to a tee.”

Logan didn’t pay any attention to his words, too confused to do anything but stare.

On the table, there were three immense bowls in front of each chair. Next to the bowls were…. Were those chopsticks? Instead of a trial, was the System awarding them with a meal? He snorted. Yeah right, and Logan’s name wasn’t Idiot.

Arsen pulled out a chair and dragged it away from the table. It made a horrible scraping sound, stone against stone. With a flourish, as if he were having the time of his life, he sat down and pulled in his chair. All he needed was a bib. “Let’s get this show started! I’m looking forward to this one.”

“Arsen,” Asthea scolded as she went to her own chair, “are you going to at least try? It’s a waste of an opportunity otherwise.”

Arsen’s eyes shone. “Don’t get me wrong, we’ll grab a few bonus points. It can never hurt to be well-rounded. But you have to admit that watching this cheater get what he deserves will put a trickle of pleasure in your heart.”

Asthea rolled her eyes, but she was biting her lip in amusement. “You always cheer me up. Sorry for being such a mope before.”

His smile was gentle. “You’re young yet. I know you keep reminding me that you’ve grown up, but this old man can still teach you a few tricks, hmm?”

Scowling, Logan dragged out the remaining chair. Glad they had that heart to heart. There’s nothing like making fun of someone to cheer you up!

Logan didn’t like the looks of this trial. Anything that could make Arsen beam from ear to ear meant nothing good. And yet, there was nothing for it. By now, Logan knew that he could force himself beyond what he’d thought himself capable of, stretching both his body and mind. If it was torture, it was torture. He wasn’t giving up, not when the consequences for failure were so high. He needed to win, and he needed to excel. After all, the Pure Grit Ring had seemed like a bonus award, an award that he’d received for outclassing everyone else.

If he coasted through this trial, only barely grabbing a win, who’s to say he’d receive the same? He needed that ring. If he didn’t receive it, there would be no chance to triple his attributes and his work would be for nothing.

Logan sat down in the chair, and then promptly froze as he felt something latch onto his legs and ass. Shifting, he tried to move his legs, and then glanced down in alarm when that only resulted in him sliding the chair. His swim trunks were stuck, the fabric chaffing as he wiggled.

He glanced at Asthea and Arsen. “Are you both…?”

Asthea nodded. “Stuck. Like a stuck pig.”

He wouldn’t say that description was accurate. Rather, it was as if everything that touched the chair was stuck to adhesive tape. The System wanted them frozen to these chairs.

Logan looked inside the bowl, and then stopped, thinking he was hallucinating.

He’d entered a bizzarro world.

The bowl was full of milk, and black bulbs the size of his fingernail floated, as if he were looking at a bowl of Cocoa Puffs.

Arsen’s chopsticks were like toothpicks in his large hands.

His skin prickling, Logan picked up his own. He’d never released [Mimicry Armour], so at least his exoskeleton gloves covered his fingers and hands, his arms shielded by his forearm guards. If necessary, he could deploy the full suit, although being in such close scrutiny to the others made him wary. He’d have to be careful and command his spatial collar to deposit the sand underneath the table so Arsen and Asthea didn’t become suspicious.

This was the weirdest trial yet. Was the System expecting them to increase their dexterity by picking up the cereal with chopsticks? It was beyond bizarre. It reminded him of something Sawyer and Hunter would enjoy.

There had to be a catch.

“Are you ready?” said Arsen with a wolfish grin.