The deeper Alex moved into the maze, the more the environment changed.
The corridors grew tighter, the paths more restrictive. Traps appeared more frequently, and the mechanisms behind them felt stronger than before.
By now, the outer sections of the maze had already begun collapsing inward. Participants who lingered too long in those areas were forced to move—or be removed from the trial entirely.
Every few minutes, a distant vibration echoed through the walls as another sector sealed itself off.
For many, the maze itself had become the greatest enemy.
For Alex, however, the rising difficulty made little difference.
He continued forward at a steady pace, neither rushing nor slowing, his movements calm and measured—as if he were walking through a training ground rather than a survival trial.
On the massive display panels outside, the audience watched his progress with growing disbelief.
Compared to the tense, cautious movements of the other participants, Alex looked almost relaxed—like he was taking a quiet walk through a park.
Another narrow corridor stretched ahead. The walls were uneven, and faint seams ran across the floor—subtle signs of hidden mechanisms waiting to be triggered.
The moment he stepped inside, the passage behind him sealed shut with a heavy metallic sound. At the same time, several pressure plates along the ground shifted slightly.
Without even glancing down, Alex adjusted his step. His movement was minimal and precise. His foot landed cleanly between the plates as he continued forward without breaking stride.
A split second later, arrows shot from the walls.
A pitfall opened behind him—and closed again when nothing fell inside.
Aurora floated beside him, drifting lazily as she glanced back once before letting out a quiet chuckle.
"The traps are getting more obvious now."
Alex said nothing.
He simply kept walking.
At the end of the corridor, the path opened into a wider stone chamber.
The ceiling rose higher here, supported by thick pillars placed at uneven intervals. Several passages connected to the room from different directions, turning it into a natural intersection within the maze.
Aurora drifted closer to his shoulder, her voice carrying a hint of amusement.
"There are some interesting things ahead."
The moment Alex stepped out, he stopped.
There were people already inside.
Five of them.
They stood near the center of the chamber, weapons drawn, their armor mismatched but clearly gathered from different sections of the maze. The instant they noticed Alex, their expressions shifted.
Surprise.
Then hesitation.
Then something closer to fear.
Alex's gaze moved across them once, briefly noting the emblems attached to their gear.
They didn't match. Each one belonged to a different academy.
That alone made him pause.
'A mixed group?'
In an event like this, cooperation between academies wasn't forbidden—but it was rare. Most participants preferred to avoid others unless they were certain of victory.
These five, however, were clearly working together.
The group exchanged quick glances, none of them moving at first. Unlike a typical encounter with a lone participant, there was no mockery, no immediate attack.
They recognized him.
They had seen what he could do.
One of them swallowed, tightening his grip on his sword.
"…It's him."
For a moment, it seemed like they might step aside and let him pass.
Then one of them—a tall boy wearing a half-damaged chest plate—stepped forward. His expression was uneasy, but he forced himself to stand firm.
"There are five of us." He glanced at the others, as if trying to convince himself.
"He's alone."
Another hesitated, then gave a slow nod.
"…We can take him."
Their voices carried clearly across the chamber.
Alex listened without reacting, piecing together the situation from fragments of their exchange—the familiarity in their tone, the casual mention of family names, the way they deferred to one another.
They weren't a group formed inside the maze.
They had known each other beforehand.
Scions of noble families, most likely—connected enough to maintain ties even across different academies. Forming a temporary alliance to gather equipment and eliminate weaker participants was exactly the kind of strategy they would employ.
Alex almost exhaled.
'Amusing.'
From what he could see, their equipment was serviceable—but their stances were unrefined, their movements lacking discipline. Even compared to the average first-years he had already encountered, these five were nothing remarkable.
A group of weak fighters did not become strong just by standing together.
Especially not when the one facing them was him.
Alex's expression remained unchanged.
He took a single step forward.
All five of them flinched at once.
◆ ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆
Nearly an hour had passed since the start of the Grand Maze Trial, and the structure of the maze continued to evolve as Alex advanced deeper within.
The faint tremors from collapsing outer sectors still echoed through the walls at intervals, a constant reminder that time itself was an active pressure in the trial.
The group he had encountered earlier proved far less troublesome than their numbers suggested. Despite their initial confidence, they had collapsed almost immediately once the clash began—coordination breaking, spacing failing, and resolve wavering under pressure.
Numbers alone meant little.
After leaving the chamber behind, Alex resumed his steady pace, neither rushing nor lingering. The deeper he went, the fewer participants he encountered—but those who remained were clearly stronger than those in the outer layers.
Some chose to avoid him entirely the moment they recognized his face.
Others chose differently.
Short clashes broke out along the way. None lasted long enough to slow him.
The maze itself grew more intricate with each section. Corridors narrowed, paths overlapped, and hidden mechanisms became more difficult to detect. Even so, his movement remained smooth, his pace unchanged.
It was in one such branching corridor that he encountered someone familiar.
Joren Pike.
For a brief moment, silence settled between them.
Joren tightened his grip on his spear, the weapon lowering slightly as he took a guarded stance. His posture was steady, but there was no hesitation in his eyes.
Alex, still holding the spear he had acquired earlier, adjusted his grip in response. He had yet to find a proper sword, but the weapon in his hands was more than sufficient.
Joren exhaled slowly, his expression sharpening.
"Didn't expect to run into you here."
Alex gave a small nod. "Same."
No more needed to be said.
This was an individual event. Standing down without a fight would only weaken their final standing. Both of them understood that clearly.
Joren shifted his footing and raised his spear into position. "Don't hold back."
"I wasn't planning to." Alex mirrored the motion, his stance settling naturally.
The clash began the moment Joren stepped forward.
It ended almost as quickly as it began.
Alex's spear stopped a hair's breadth from Joren's chest—perfectly aligned, completely controlled. The tip didn't waver.
Joren glanced down at the weapon, then let out a quiet breath as his shoulders relaxed. His own spear lowered a moment later.
"...Yeah. I figured."
For a brief second, neither of them moved.
Joren looked back up, a faint, wry smile forming. "You're not finishing it?"
Alex shook his head once.
"You still represent Star Shine Academy. If you go further, the academy benefits."
Joren held his gaze for a moment longer, then gave a short, quiet laugh.
"Heh… fair enough."
Outside the maze, the audience had watched the exchange unfold in full.
Some voices rose in disappointment when Alex stepped back instead of securing the elimination, their expectations of a decisive victory left unsatisfied. Others, however, nodded in quiet approval, understanding the calculation behind his decision.
Inside the maze, Alex had already turned away.
Without another word, he continued forward, his figure disappearing deeper into the maze.
◆ ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆
The final corridor sloped slightly downward before opening into a wide circular chamber.
The moment Alex stepped through, the space expanded dramatically. The ceiling rose high above, supported by thick pillars arranged in a perfect ring, their shadows stretching long across the stone floor.
He had reached the center.
And he was not the first.
Several participants were already inside, scattered in loose clusters across the chamber. Some lingered near the outer walls, maintaining distance, while others stood closer to the central platform with weapons drawn and senses sharpened.
The tension in the air was almost tangible.
It was clear a fight had already begun before his arrival. Students from different academies had gathered, loosely grouping themselves by affiliation. A few clashes were already underway—short bursts of violence breaking the uneasy stillness—while others circled cautiously, waiting for an opening.
Alex stepped forward.
The sound of his footsteps echoed softly across the chamber.
One by one, heads turned.
The reaction spread like a ripple through still water. Conversations died mid-sentence. Weapons lowered—just slightly. Even those already fighting instinctively disengaged, creating space as their attention shifted.
All eyes fell on him.
They recognized him.
The hesitation was immediate and unmistakable. Some stepped back without thinking. Others tightened their grip on their weapons, uncertainty flickering across their faces.
'Attack… or wait?'
Alex continued walking toward the center at the same steady pace, as if none of it mattered.
Then someone spoke.
"If we don't deal with him now, none of us are winning."
The words cut through the silence.
That was all it took.
Several participants moved at once—not toward each other, but toward him instead. Footsteps pounded against stone as weapons rose, the nearest students committing to a joint assault.
For a single moment, the entire chamber seemed to narrow around that point. Then everything broke.
A student from Blitz War Institute suddenly veered sideways instead of charging forward, slipping past the forming line and striking at a student from Crimson Bastion with a quick, opportunistic slash. The unexpected move forced an immediate counter, and another student jumped in to intercept.
The fragile alignment shattered instantly.
What could have been a coordinated attack collapsed into chaos.
Weapons clashed. Sparks flew. The chamber erupted into a full free-for-all as restraint vanished under the pressure of survival. Alliances dissolved the moment they became inconvenient. Every participant turned on the nearest target, seeking advantage before someone else could take it.
More footsteps echoed as late arrivals poured in from surrounding corridors, only to be swallowed by the conflict the moment they entered.
The center became a storm of motion.
And within it, Alex moved calmly.
He deflected a blade without looking, sidestepped a thrust, and drove the blunt end of his spear into an opponent's chest. A flash of light followed as the formation activated, removing the student instantly.
Another came from behind.
Alex shifted slightly—just enough.
The attack missed. His counter didn't.
One by one, the numbers began to thin.
The chaos gradually lost its intensity as participants were eliminated in rapid succession. Movements slowed. Gaps widened. The storm began to settle.
Until—
Only one figure remained standing near the central platform.
Finally, the chamber fell completely silent. Then a deep chime resonated through the maze. The announcer's voice followed, echoing across the maze.
The Grand Maze Trial was over.
And Alex stood alone at the center.