The Queen of Masks twisted—bones cracking, limbs lengthening, flesh boiling into a grotesque hybrid. Her shape no longer resembled Vally. Instead, she had taken on the form of a monstrous, insectoid bee, the size of a horse, with segmented arms ending in bladed stingers and a glistening carapace slick with poison.
She buzzed violently toward Xarl, wings slicing the air with an unnatural hum.
Xarl barely managed to raise his arms when—
Kaelith blurred past him.
"Xarl!" he shouted, his voice breaking for once—not cold, but desperate.
He caught Xarl in his arms and launched upward with a surge of icy wind, just in time to avoid the Queen's venomous strike.
They landed hard a few meters away. Xarl gasped, heart pounding as Kaelith stood protectively in front of him, frost forming on his skin.
"I'm fine," Xarl breathed. "You didn't have to—"
"I did," Kaelith replied curtly. "You're not dying here."
Meanwhile, Naeva moved fast. Her hands glowed with emerald light, and the ground beneath the Queen cracked. From the stone floor, roots erupted, glowing with her energy, wrapping around the Queen's abdomen and wings. The bee screeched—an ear-splitting, unnatural sound—and struggled wildly.
"Now!" Naeva yelled.
Kor didn't need telling. He dashed forward, fury in his eyes and Tempest Fang in hand. The wind-infused blade howled as he swung it down, again and again, slicing into the insectoid Queen.
Dark ichor sprayed.
But just when it seemed she would fall, the Queen reared back—and released a strange mist, sweet-scented and thick like syrup. A poison gas.
Kaelith coughed hard. His knees buckled.
"Kaelith!" Xarl cried, rushing forward. The older boy waved him back.
"Don't—breathe it—!"
Kaelith barely managed to place Xarl down gently before he stumbled back into the fray, struggling to draw breath. His body trembled, icy skin slick with sweat.
The Queen laughed—a distorted, echoing buzz from her spiraling mandibles.
Xarl clenched his fists. His bracelet hummed.
Wind chakra surged.
He thrust his arms forward and shouted, "Tempest Veil!"
A roaring current of wind burst from him, spiraling around the team. It swept the poisonous gas back, carving open the space between them and the Queen. Kaelith inhaled sharply—finally able to breathe. Kor steadied himself. Naeva reinforced her roots.
Together, Kaelith and Kor charged.
One wielding frost and fury, the other a weapon born from loyalty and trust.
The Queen screeched. Her wings buzzed. She tried to fly.
She didn't get far.
A flurry of wind, frost, and steel tore through her midair, and the Queen dropped—writhing, cracking, limbs shuddering—until her form collapsed into ash. Her final scream echoed through the labyrinth as silence fell.
Then, in the settling dust, a golden light shimmered.
A treasure box, carved with ancient runes, floated in the air. Beneath it, a second box appeared—smaller, darker, sealed by a mysterious system rune.
[Trial Completed]
[You have received: Guardian's Cache & Mystery Box – Echo Classification]
The five exchanged glances. Kor reached out and lifted the first box; Kaelith the second.
Suddenly, the floor beneath them rumbled. Light surged, warm and blinding.
They were teleported.
---
When their vision cleared, they were back in the main arena—a vast, glowing chamber filled with all the surviving examinees. Only five teams remained.
The crowd above them roared. Teachers, family members, and officials lined the viewing balconies. Cries of joy and sorrow mingled in the air.
Some losing teams wept openly.
Others stared in numb silence.
And a few simply… didn't care enough to cry.
Xarl barely noticed. His vision was still spinning.
Then—he heard it.
"Xarl!"
A voice—bright and raw.
He turned.
A blur of motion—and suddenly, two children slammed into him, hugging him tight. A girl and a boy, around eleven and thirteen, his siblings.
"You did it! You did it!" his sister squealed, burying her face in his shirt.
His younger brother clung to his waist, tears in his eyes. "We saw everything! You were amazing!"
Xarl trembled. The chaos of the battle, the fear, the constant pressure—everything broke at once.
"I-I thought you wouldn't come…" he whispered.
"Of course we would," his sister said fiercely. "You're our idiot hero."
His breath hitched—and finally, he cried.
Not from fear.
Not from pressure.
But from relief.
From love.
He didn't even care that the arena was thundering with noise. His siblings held him tighter, grounding him.
Nearby, Naeva was sobbing in her mother's arms. Her father had lifted her off the ground, spinning her in circles, both of them in tears.
Kor was being tackled—literally—by a hulking man with his same eyes and hair.
His older brother, laughing like thunder.
"You broke your damn arm again, didn't you?" the man shouted, ruffling Kor's hair.
Kor grumbled, but he couldn't hide the smile.
Xarl turned and scanned the crowd—and his heart sank.
Kaelith stood alone.
No family.
No applause.
Just him, watching quietly.
Beside him, Vally stood with a tall, regal figure—long hair braided down his back, dressed in black and silver. The man stood like a soldier, but carried himself like a servant.
Xarl's eyes narrowed.
That was… not family.
"Who's that?" his brother asked.
"Vally and Kaelith," Xarl said softly. "They don't… have anyone here."
His sister tilted her head. "That's not fair."
"No, it's not."
And before anyone could stop him, Xarl marched over.
Without hesitation, he grabbed Kaelith and Vally into a hug.
"You two idiots almost died for me. You're family now. Deal with it."
Vally froze.
Kaelith blinked.
Xarl's siblings joined seconds later, laughing and squeezing them both.
Vally choked out a sound—and blinked rapidly.
Then he grinned through damp eyes. "Ugh. Stupid wind. Making my eyes all itchy."
Everyone laughed.
Kaelith didn't laugh, but he nodded. Just once.
And Xarl saw it: the tiniest lift of his mouth.
---
A system chime echoed across the arena.
[Announcement: All Victors Have Seven Days of Leave Before Return to Citadel]
The cheering dulled into murmurs.
Naeva hugged her parents goodbye.
Kor slung a heavy pack over his shoulder, his brother already teasing him about "being soft now."
Vally stretched, his usual grin back in place. "Time to see the city again. Bet I'm still famous."
The tall man beside him bowed deeply. "Your accommodations are ready, young master."
Vally winced. "Ugh. Don't call me that in public."
Kaelith said nothing, but he gave Xarl one last nod before turning to follow.
Xarl stood there for a long time, the wind brushing against his skin.
His bracelet pulsed.
He looked at his siblings, who were already making plans for what meals to cook when they got home. His heart ached in the best way.
"I'm going home," he whispered.
After so long, after so much…
He was finally going home.
And he cried again.
Laughter followed.
Not from mockery.
But from joy.
Because for once—
They were all alive.
And that was enough.
---