The Unmaker

Another week passed since Dahlia woke up, and yet, the feeling of exhaustion still clung to her.

Her body, though healing, was heavy with muscle aches and the lingering effects of the drug Blaire had given her. She hadn't been able to shake the constant fatigue, and every time she tried to work long hours, she'd end up collapsing into a nap during the day. It was embarrassing, really. Especially when she was supposed to be helping out around Tavern Emperatoria.

Despite everything, it was a relatively quiet week. She kept herself busy by running errands for Safi, cleaning the tavern, and then sleeping whenever she could. The work was calming, but it also left her feeling lonely. Alice had been her usual self—disappearing for long stretches of time—but Dahlia hadn't seen Otto, Emilia, Muyang, or Wisnu even once. Apparently, they'd all stopped by to visit her on more than one occasion, but she was always asleep when they came by.

What a terrible, terrible physical enhancing drug Blaire stabbed into me.

Sighing deeply, she swept the broom across the wooden floor of the tavern, the soft swish of the bristles the only sound filling the quiet air. It was well past eleven, and the tavern was empty. The street outside was still with only the occasional clink of distant hammers marking the ongoing construction around the city. Safi had gone out to handle something for the night, leaving the cleaning up to her, while Alice had disappeared earlier in the afternoon.

That left her alone in the quiet, dimly lit tavern.

She'd finished cleaning most of the tables, and now, she swept the last few crumbs of bread and flour into her dustpan. Her muscles screamed in protest, but she pushed through it. Her body was used to the ache by now. When she finally finished, she set the broom aside and walked over to one of the empty chairs near the window.

Moonlight poured through the glass, casting long, eerie shadows of her own body across the room. It was almost strange, being so alone in the quiet after everything that'd happened.

She let out a breath and stretched her arms out, staring at her hands for a moment.

She had been practicing. She still wasn't entirely used to the new Art she had gained from Apocia. She'd been able to summon sharp spikes from her body, the blood-thorn-like spines she'd learned from the Spider God. They weren't easy to control, but she'd gotten better at it.

As she sat there, she focused, concentrating on her forearms. Activating the Art was as easy as a single thought: she squeezed blood out the pores in her skin and immediately hardened them into small, slightly curved crimson spikes. They lined the back of her forearms, and though they weren't huge, they were sharp.

[Deadly, in fact. Apocia flung them out like projectiles, and they're slightly venomous and poisonous.]

But isn't the toxicity just a property of her blood in the first place? Mine isn't toxic at all, so—

[Your Art copies one for one. Your spikes are venomous and toxic as well.]

Dahlia wasn't sure whether it was a blessing or a curse—because what if she accidentally scraped herself with her own spikes—-but for now, she'd take it. Not like she had a choice to throw it away in the first place. At least it was a good Art to have in case of a chase.

[It's always good to have more options than not,] Kari offered.

Unless the freedom of choice bogs you down?

[You only have three Arts so far,] Kari countered. [That's not a lot to juggle so far.]

Well, you're right about that. And if I allocate my points now, it'd be even easier to juggle all three of them, she thought, drawing her spikes back into her bloodstream and tapping her fingers against the edge of the chair. She still had a few hundred points from eating Apocia's hand, and they could be very useful in unlocking the rest of her tier three mutations, but just as she closed her eyes and prepared to spend the rest of the night looking at her status screen—

A sharp whizzing sound cut through the silence.

Her eyes snapped wide open just in time to see an arrow zip through the open window and embed itself in the wooden table in front of her with a thunk.

She flinched, of course, but almost as quickly, she jerked her head back forward and scowled out the window.

Outside, there was nothing. No sign of anyone on the rooftops. No movement at all.

[... That's one of the Sun's arrows.]

The Sun? she thought, her mind still racing.

[Yep. I'd recognize the markings anywhere. Pull off the note attached to the fletchling, will you?]

Her hands were shaking slightly as she reached for the arrow. True enough, a rolled-up piece of paper was attached to the fletchling of the arrow with a small red ribbon.

Tentatively, she unfurled it, her brows furrowing as she read the words scrawled across it:

Go to the northernmost bazaar in the city immediately. The third stage of the exam will be held tonight.

Dahlia was out of breath by the time she reached the northernmost bazaar, her warhammer dragging behind her with each strained step.

She'd rushed here, heart pounding, desperate to make it to the plaza in time, even though every part of her body begged for rest. The lingering exhaustion from the coma and the poison still coursing thinly through her veins made her want to curl up and go to bed about this time of day, but she had to push through. It'd be a complete laughing shame if she were to drop out of the exam now because she couldn't get herself out of bed.

No turning back now.

As she stepped into the vast, empty space of the city's northernmost bazaar, something immediately felt off. Firstly, the streets around her had been empty and eerily still. It was midnight, sure, but the quiet was unnatural. Normally, this area would still be bustling with market stalls being closed down, with people moving all about, talking and laughing. Now? There was no one in sight. Not a single soul.

Second, the vast, empty bazaar in front of her was covered in snow.

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

She'd read about it, of course, but she'd never seen it in person. Snow in the desert, of all places. It was blinding, the moonlight reflecting off it in sharp, piercing rays, and the white blanket stretched across the entire bazaar to make it glow with an eerie, otherworldly stillness.

It was beautiful, yes, but… also completely out of place. The cold air hit her like a slap, completely sharp and unexpected, making her breath fog in the night.

Then, there was the third anomaly.

In the center of the bazaar—towering over the surrounding buildings—was a massive, shining silver worm, spiraling up into the air like some sort of twisted tower. The only thing she could do was stare at it in awe. It was about fifty meters tall, half as thick, and its surface gleamed with an unsettling, metallic silver sheen. The top of the tower was adorned with giant alabaster teeth that curled inwards like a grotesque crown.

The tower wasn't built, either. It'd burrowed out of the ground, because snow formed a thick, circular mound around its base, and there was no way anyone just shovelled it there.

Her breath hitched in her throat. The air felt heavier around the tower. It was like the worm itself was alive—like it was waiting, breathing, and watching her every move—but curiosity overpowered fear, and there was a door-like opening at the base of the tower, inviting her in with a gentle, chilly wind.

She didn't want to go in. She didn't want to walk into whatever that doorway was. It felt wrong, and yet…

[Go in,] Kari whispered. [He won't bite… I think.]

Dahlia felt a lump form in her throat.

Taking a shaky breath, she stepped onto the snow, feeling the crunch beneath her sandals with each hesitant step. She forced herself to move toward the doorway, and the air became colder the closer she got. The darkness inside the tower seemed to pull at her, drawing her in like some unseen force—but when she crossed the threshold and entered the tower, she found herself in a bright, brilliant garden.

It was somehow even colder here. Snow covered the floor inside as well, but the field of four-petal diamond flowers glowed like lanterns, giving the garden an ethereal, alien look.

It looked almost like a fragile dream, delicate and impossibly surreal.

As she looked around, taking in the eerie serenity of the place, she felt a sudden movement behind her. Before she could react, four people swarmed her from all sides, their faces bright with recognition.

"You're finally here!" Otto said. His right eye sat behind an eyepatch, but his voice was light and filled with relief.

"We thought you'd never wake up," Emilia added.. "We tried to visit, but you were always asleep… though it seems both the early and the late bird gets the worm, hm?"

Dahlia shifted awkwardly, her face flushing as she noticed Blaire leaning by the doorway with crossed arms as well. She hadn't meant to worry anyone, but she really, really couldn't help herself spending most of the past week sleeping. "Sorry," she muttered, not quite meeting their gazes. "I guess… I really am the weakest out of everyone else here, huh?"

"It's fine," Wisnu said, offering her a kind smile. "We're just glad you're up and about."

Muyang nodded to that. "But now that all of us are properly awake, we must go celebrate our victory," he said. "A meal shared after battle is a feast for the soul. I shall pay for the feast."

Dahlia smiled faintly, but before anyone could suggest plans or begin to speak further, a low voice rang out from the far end of the garden.

All of them turned, eyes narrowing as the Fool stood in the doorway at the end of the garden, flanked by the Sun and Alice.

"...Now that everyone's here," the Fool said casually, dressed in the exact same simple tunic, jacket, and trousers as Dahlia had seen him in the first time they met, "the third stage of the Hasharana Entrance Exam will begin."

He stepped aside, revealing a dark, narrow set of spiraling stairs behind him. Beside him, the Sun was as stern as ever with her bow and quiver, while Alice, on the other hand, waved cheerfully at Dahlia, her carefree smile utterly unshaken.

In response, the Fool grabbed the top of Alice's head and shook her lightly, which made her laugh "Originally, the Hangman was supposed to proctor the first stage," he grumbled, "and then the Sun would handle the second stage, and then I would handle the third. However, since the Hangman was late to respond to the call, we had to call in an extra proctor to handle the third stage. Apologies for the late wait. It was… quite the eventful journey to get here.|

[Haha,] Kari muttered sarcastically. [Sure it was.]

"Now, I know you've all been through a lot already," the Fool said with a grin. "You've even taken down a Spider God, so in terms of pure physical capability, you're all worthy of being Hasharana. No doubt about that. But, for formality's sake, we still have to hold this third stage. I hope you'll understand."

He paused, and the garden seemed to hold its breath.

"The rules are simple," the Fool said, gesturing to the stairs behind him. "One by one, when your names are called, you'll climb these stairs. If you leave this tower with a registered Altered Swarmsteel System, you'll be officially recognized as Hasharana. If you don't, unfortunately, you'll still fail. Simple as that."

Otto muttered under his breath. "It's a bit strange they're not just making us Hasharana straight up, right?"

Dahlia and Emilia were about to nod at the same time when the Fool cut Otto off with a head-on smile.

"I know, right?" he said. "You're up first, Otto Glasbrenner. Go on up, and let's see what you're made of."

For a second, Otto wondered if he'd heard wrong.

After all, he hadn't been expecting it to be him. Surely, someone else would go first—Emilia, for example, the literal daughter of the Magician—but here he was, being stared at by everyone in the garden.

"... Well, this is a bit of a surprise," he muttered to himself, more to break the tension than anything else. Still, he stretched his arms out, shook off the tightness in his muscles, and gave the others a shaky grin as he tightened the straps of his backpack. "I'm still going, though."

As he gave them all a thumbs-up and walked towards the doorway, the others wished him luck, their voices a mix of encouragement and concern.

With a final glance back at his companions, he passed the Fool, the Sun, and the Hangman. They stood there, silently watching, but Otto couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. The air was already cold and chilly, yes, and it may not be anything like the biting cold of the Rampaging Hinterland Front, but something was still… off about this whole stage of the exam.

The Fool, as always, seemed completely unbothered by the situation. The Sun's expression remained stoic, her eyes hard as she watched him closely. The Hangman, on the other hand, stood with a small, mischievous grin on her face, as if she were entertained by the whole spectacle.

"So, what's the deal with this task?" Otto asked casually, trying to get a sense of what was going on. "I just have to go upstairs? That's it?"

The Fool's grin only widened. "Yep. No mystery here. Just climb to the top and leave with an Altered Swarmsteel System."

Otto paused for a moment, trying to decipher if the Fool was being entirely serious. The simplicity of it made him feel uneasy. But after a few seconds, he just shrugged.

Whether it was simple or not, he had to go up.

Tightening the satchel of weapons across his back once more and adjusting the rifle attached to his side—so he could easily wield it if needed—he stepped through the doorway and into the dark, narrowing stairwell.

The air in the stairwell was cool, and the walls seemed to close in as he paused at the foot of the stairs, looking around. The only light came from the small lantern at his hip, but there was nothing else in the stairwell. No sign of danger, no ominous sound, and no hint of any bugs lying in wait. He could only frown as he took another step upward, the sound of his footfalls echoing too loudly in the silence.

Nothing.

His frown deepened. Is this really the third stage? Confusion gnawed at him. If this was supposed to test his skills, it didn't seem to be doing a very good job of it. There was no challenge. No trap. No... nothing.

He reached for his rifle instinctively, but it wasn't needed. Each step up the stairs felt longer than the last. The sound of his boots on cold stone echoed louder and louder, though nothing seemed to change. He really, really waited for something to jump out at him—some hidden enemy to appear from the shadows—but the stairs remained empty, and the air remained still and quiet.

It wasn't until what felt like an eternity later, wading through an abyss, that he reached the top of the stairs—and instead of a doorway, there was simply a blank, metal wall in front of him.

He blinked, staring at the smooth surface where a door should otherwise be.

Befuddled, he turned around quickly to look back down the stairs. The moment he did, he froze. The space behind him had changed. Without him noticing, a wall had closed in behind him, blocking him from descending.

A sick realization sank into his gut.

… I'm stuck.

What the hell am I supposed to do?