Dhruba stared up at the sheer, black wall that had materialised from the earth, sealing him into a cramped corner. The ground had stopped trembling, leaving a deafening silence. "Damn it! I can't take my eyes off him for a second, and he goes and does something like this," Dhruba grumbled to himself, flexing his massive fists.

  "Hmph. No matter," he decided and immediately started running, his powerful shoulder slamming into the wall nearest him. The gelatinous earth recoiled, yielding momentarily with a dull thud, before his brute strength shattered a section of it.

  He heard a muffled voice from the other side. "Anya! Anya, where are you?" he roared, smashing through two more walls, the air filling with the damp smell of churned earth and saline fluid.

  Anya’s voice became clearer, laced with panic. "Stop, Dhruba! You are moving away from me!"

  "What are you saying? Where are you? I'll come—"

  "No, don't! You'll get lost again," Anya shouted back. She looked up at the towering, impossible walls, her mind desperately racing through tactical options. Then Dhruba’s voice cut out entirely. "These walls... they are healing themselves! Anya, they are closi—" The final words were choked off as the walls sealed the breach seamlessly.

  Anya grimaced. Dhruba never changes, she thought. In the last moment of connection, she yelled, "I will come get you myself! Just sit there and hang tight." She squeezed her short sword's hilt. "We need to regroup if we want to get out of this with a little dignity."

  She took a deep, steadying breath. Pride be damned. The last time, Azuma had intentionally provoked her not to use her ability, and she'd almost lost the duel. This time, she gritted her teeth, recalled the promise she'd made to Antheros, and swallowed the bitter taste of her own pride. Anya closed her eyes and activated her Pathfinder ability. She might feel embarrassed to use her full power on a child, but losing the duel again was simply unacceptable.

  "Why is this fight so serious?" Boris whispered to Valerian, watching the immobile maze with bewildered shock.

  Valerian sighed, leaning against the viewing railing, and began narrating the history of their sparring sessions. "It all started when Azuma began pestering his mother to let him go outside the city unsupervised. She gave him various tasks, which he completed successfully. Seeing no other way, she told him that if he could beat all four royal guards, he could go outside all by himself."

  Valerian’s smile faded, replaced by weary amusement. "And then the nightmares began for the guards. He started challenging them incessantly. For the first dozen matches, he lost immediately. But then, he started using weird, innovative equipment to beat them. The time they spent fighting started to grow exponentially—five minutes became fifteen, then thirty, then forty. Last time, he came very close to defeating all four of them."

  Rufe, blinded by choice and relying on his enhanced senses, leaned against a cold wall. If I use my ability, I can pinpoint the nodes and destroy them... He let out a self-deprecating laugh. Right, I bet Azuma thought of this and made multiple nodes. Sheesh. Even though he knows we follow the rules, he comes prepared. Where does he get such paranoid precautions?

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  He sharpened his focus, connecting his mind to his familiar. "Good, Coby has recovered from the smash." A flicker of guilt crossed his mind. I need to train her more carefully, dashing like that despite what he did to him last time.

  Rufe was now seeing the wall through Coby's eyes, an unfamiliar sensation that made his head swim. "I'm still not used to using Coby as a medium for sight," he mumbled, bracing himself. He focused on tracing Coby's initial location. "Wait... Is she outside the maze?" Rufe exclaimed.

  He quickly sent a mental command: Coby, run around the perimeter.

  Coby, recovering rapidly from the impact, acted instantly.

  Rufe smiled, shaking his head. "That cheeky brat. He waited for Coby to charge all along, knowing her pride would make her reckless, and at the perfect moment, he knocked her out of the maze. With me trapped and her outside, it will be tough to coordinate. And if I wait too long, Coby will get anxious and act out." He had to admire the genius. "I hate to admit it, but that kid is good."

  He placed his palm flat against the gelatinous wall, concentrating. He wasn't looking for sound or smell; he was seeking the faint, rhythmic thrum of Mana flowing within the structure. "If I am correct, the kid should be at the centre of the maze, where the main power node is. Come to think of it, how did he activate this formation in the first place?" Rufe pondered, then quickly punched the wall, creating a large, fist-sized hole. The hole immediately began to contract and seal itself.

  "So I can't destroy it, huh?" Rufe muttered. He tried a different tactic, finding a smooth section and attempting to climb the slick, viscous surface. He scrambled a few feet up, but the wall instantly liquefied beneath his weight, crumbling away into a muddy cascade. He dropped hard onto the arena floor, and the section of the wall he'd climbed instantaneously reformed, leaving no trace of the collapse. Frustrated, he slammed his hand against the nearest surface, but the wall moved. The slime-infused earth swallowed his wrist instantly, gripping him like an anchor sinking into mud. He yanked his arm back violently, a cold dread washing over him. The wall had reformed around his arm, briefly holding him captive before releasing him with a loud, sucking sound.

  With the focus of a true hunter, he started walking. His palm remained pressed to the slick wall, tracking the flow of the formation's energy. The wall ceased to be earth and became a conduit, a humming line of pure mana vibrating against his skin. The power is directional, he deduced, a surge of intellectual clarity wiping away the dizziness. It flows from the core—all this chaotic energy must be sourced from a single mainframe. He became a current tracing its river, following the accelerating, almost frantic pulse of the mana flow as it reverse-engineered the direction to the center.

  The energy grew stronger with every stride, until it reached a frantic, blinding throb beneath his fingertips. He had found it. Finally, he reached a focal point—a distinct node where the entire web converged. "Great," Rufe whispered, a flicker of fierce triumph in his voice. "Destroying this will severely weaken the structure of the maze." He raised his staff, the tip crackling with focused magic, ready to strike the vulnerable point. The strike was imminent, but he stopped—halted by a profound, paralyzing instinct—less than an inch away.

  A deep frown etched his face. This was too easy.

  "I don't believe that Azuma would leave such a huge gap in his formation," Rufe thought. He sharpened his hearing. I’m sure that kid is waiting for an ambush.

  He lowered his staff, readying his body for a confrontation. He wouldn't destroy the node until he found Azuma; the node itself was likely a secondary trap. And even if it's not a trap, I need Vikram's specialized eyes on this. Azuma's genius is too layered to take a brute-force approach. Vikram would be the only one who could analyze the true risk and disarm the complex inscription within the node.

  Anya, you are the key here. Use your ability and find us. Only then can we defeat the kid and save the Queen from heartache. If he wins this time, we can't face Queen Antheros.