What stands before us resembles a massive conveyor belt—no, more like continuous tracks or caterpillar treads. But instead of metal, it's made entirely of thick wooden planks, positioned at a steep diagonal incline. Two enormous gears—one at the top and one at the bottom—keep it in constant motion, the wooden surface also lined with irregularly spaced short pegs, likely meant as handholds… But they aren't large enough for a full grip, instead just enough for fingers to slip into—similar to the holds found in standard climbing arenas.
With the entire contraption moving ceaselessly downward, feeding into a void of absolute darkness below.
And yet, strangely enough, I feel a flicker of relief.
If all they want us to do is climb this thing for three straight hours, then honestly? I'm confident I can manage. But judging from the reactions of those around me, not everyone shares my sentiment.
"You expect us to do this when our stamina points are already scraping zero? Seriously? At least give us something to work with!"
Stamina points?
The term echoes in my mind. It isn't as if I've never seen it before—there's indeed an "SP" value displayed in my status window. But what exactly will happen if it reaches zero?
"Don't tell me you also forgot what stamina points are."
Siona's voice cuts through my thoughts, and once again, she appears beside me as if reading my mind at the exact moment I need answers.
"It's not that complicated, really," she continues. "Once your stamina points hit zero, you pass out. That's it. Simple as that."
"So… the three who died in the underwater tunnel—did they also die because of it?"
"Not necessarily," she shrugs. "They could've been deliberately killed by someone, or they might've just run out of oxygen."
"Ah… right. Can't believe that didn't cross my mind before." I hesitate, then ask, "How much stamina do you have left?"
"Nine."
"...Are you going to be okay?"
Siona gives me a small cue to look at the people around. "Notice how no one's complaining as much as they should be?"
So then, as she tells me, I frown and glance at both sides… And now that she mentions it, the initial outburst of protests has indeed died down surprisingly fast.
"It's because we don't have Mana Points or Eidolon Points, but we can still use magic by paying with our Health Points—at double the cost."
"And what kind of magic do you plan to use?"
"Parx… Vael… Xerathil… Vythros… Voz…"
As Siona chants, three glowing orbs of light emerge from her chest, swirling around her body before bursting into shimmering fragments. But instead of looking relieved, she breaks into a cold sweat. The spell drains her HP instead of MP or EP—something I hadn't considered until now.
The literal meaning of her incantation is console, to oneself, restore, stamina, activated… And the moment others hear her reciting the spell, a chain reaction follows.
One by one, nearly everyone in the room begins chanting the exact same words.
"Even if you still have enough stamina left, there's no harm in casting the spell now—just in case. You never know when you might get cornered and won't have the chance to use it later." The girl has a good point with what she just said.
Siona then steps ahead of me just as the elders signal us forward, instructing children to approach a section of the floor. The surface is adorned with glowing intricate patterns—concentric circles, hexagonal shapes, and arcane symbols etched in a deliberate sequence… Their meaning is clear: platform, floating, reinforced.
I hesitate for a moment, then glance at my status window. My stamina isn't critically low, but there's no guarantee of what lies ahead. If I collapse at the wrong time, it won't matter how skilled I am—I'll just be another corpse in this twisted trial.
Taking a quiet breath, I mutter the incantation under my breath. "Parx… Vael… Xerathil… Vythros… Voz…"
A faint glow emerges from my chest, three orbs of light circling around me before shattering into shimmering fragments. A sharp, draining sensation courses through my body, as if something vital has been forcibly siphoned away. I clench my jaw. So this is what it feels like to burn HP for magic.
╔══════════════════════════════════════════ ══╗
║ ⌈ Status Window ⌋ ║
╠══════════════════════════════════════════ ══╣
║ ▶ HP: **72 / 125** ║
║ ▶ SP: **40 / 182** ║
╚══════════════════════════════════════════ ══╝
Siona gives me a sidelong glance. "Better than nothing, right?"
"Yeah," I mutter, flexing my fingers as the aftereffects settle in. "Let's just hope it's enough… Because there's a high chance that some of these newly formed groups will start trying to kill off as many others as possible."
My whisper is met with a nod from the girl as we take in our surroundings—this floating platform is packed tight, bodies pressed against one another, every gaze filled with suspicion and unease as it slowly glides across the chasm, drawing closer to the conveyor belt.
A look that silently speaks: might as well shove each other off while no one has anything to hold on to… except for the very person pushing them.
"Don't you even try..." One of them, sensing the malicious intent from the kids beside him, issues a low, icy warning.
But the said warning seems to be taken as a challenge instead, as if his very pride has been wounded by those words... And so, his intrusive thoughts become reality.
Unfortunately for him, his actions are anticipated—not just by the one he tries to shove off, but by everyone who has already foreseen the outcome. The moment the boy is pushed, his hands instinctively grasp at the attacker's clothes in a desperate bid to keep his balance. But with the sheer force behind the push, the attacker is yanked forward as well.
Even as he twists his body, reaching out to grab onto someone—anyone—nearby, his efforts are futile. Instead of salvation, all he receives is a sharp kick to the chest, sealing both their fates as they plunge into the abyss. Their screams echo, fading bit by bit, until silence swallows them whole.
That's all it takes to send a ripple of paranoia through the platform. Hands latch onto whatever they can grasp—be it cloth, limbs, or even hair—that could serve as an anchor.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?!"
"Keep me from falling, and you won't go down with me." Some other boy's voice drips with malice as he clings tightly to his victim, like a parasite refusing to let go of its host.
"Eat shit! Get your hands off me!"
"Don't play stupid games, and no one has to die a stupid death here."
Tension thickens across the platform—everywhere except for the very center, the only place that remains truly safe in this precarious balance. At least, until we finally reach the conveyor belt—where many, without hesitation, scramble to climb aboard, desperate to escape the suffocating crowd.
Once everyone—without exception—has scrambled onto the massive, ever-moving conveyor, a voice booms through the air, carrying an ominous weight.
"Don't stop climbing."
Simple words. Too simple. And yet, as always, they send a cold shiver crawling down my spine. My fingers instinctively tighten around the wooden slats beneath me as my mind races with questions I don't dare voice.
I can see them—wooden support beams, thick ropes, and heavy iron chains dangling from the upper edges and along the sides. They're within reach, almost inviting. Perfect to be a brief respite… A place to catch my breath.
But some part of my mind screams at me—Don't. Touch. Them.
It isn't logic. It isn't reason. It's raw, primal instinct clawing at the back of my mind, warning me that the moment I grab onto anything other than this cursed, shifting pathway beneath me, I'll regret it.
But still… climbing nonstop for three hours? To be honest, the mere thought is never actually pushing the limits of what I can handle, but that's without factoring in the constant, looming danger—someone could easily decide to shove me off at any moment.
Not about a single misstep, nor a moment of carelessness, but worse… Outright sabotage from the others and that would be the end of me.
~~~~~