Faust carefully searched for his next target, using the towering bookshelves as cover, silently observing. After a while, he spotted an old man running away from the battle. The man had long white hair and a beard, and although he ran, both his arms and legs were shackled.
Before the old man could get far, Faust stepped in front of him and pointed his sword at the man's chest—which was rather ironic, considering the sword had no tip.
"Woah, woah!" the old man exclaimed. "Calm down, I'm an ally!"
"What do you mean?" Faust asked, curious as to why there were other shackled people and why the old man called himself an ally.
"What do I mean? What do you mean, 'what do I mean'? Stop acting so high and mighty just because you got lucky and found a weapon, youngling. We're both slaves! If we survive this trial, we'll be free, it will be just like the guild promised!"
Faust began to understand, the puzzle slowly fitting together in his mind.
So, a guild sent them here, and he thinks I'm a slave too. That's useful information… but still not enough.
"Yeah, the guild promised it," Faust said, playing along. "But how can we be sure it's real? Also, why are you running away? Don't you want the rewards?"
The old man narrowed his eyes, then answered, "We made a mana pact… If they break it, their mage will suffer heavy damage. And his life is worth far more than ours. They wouldn't take that risk, not for us, at least."
He looked around anxiously before continuing, "Besides, why would I fight? Didn't you hear? We just need to survive. No need to risk my life searching for a kill. Let those idiots slaughter each other. We wait until the ninety-nine number is reached."
The old man glanced over his shoulder again. He was clearly on edge.
"Oh, I get it!" Faust said, forcing a smile. "So you figured it out too, we just need to survive and we're finally free."
The old man grinned. "Heh, of course I did. You're a smart one too, huh? What about this, let's team up and wait it out.
"Alright, I'll follow you, senior," Faust replied, his eyes narrowing slightly.
The old man nodded and began running again. After just a few steps, Faust raised his hand and shot three mana bullets into the back of his head.
"Thank you, old man…"
As the man's body collapsed to the floor, a harsh gasp escaped his lips. Blood poured out, but he was still alive. Faust walked over, lifted his sword, and brought it down, severing the old man's head. He was dead.
Another kill.
Faust wanted the rewards. He barely knew the man—why should he feel bad? It was the old man's fault for surviving to old age without getting stronger. It was his fault for staying weak. Faust was weak too, so why pity someone just as powerless?
He searched the corpse but found nothing of interest. He moved on.
Before long, he found another slave, this one about his age. Shackled too. The boy looked around desperately, and when he saw Faust, he froze, wary.
Faust dashed toward him. Before the slave could react, Faust punched him, knocking him to the ground.
"What guild sent you here?" Faust asked in a clear, cold voice.
"P-please… let me live…" the young slave stammered, nearly in tears.
Expressionless, Faust repeated, "What guild sent you? Answer, and I won't kill you. We're both slaves after all, I have no reason to."
"But if you're a slave too… you should already know—"
Faust pointed the sword at him, silencing him.
"A-alright! The Adventurers' Guild sent us!"
"Why?" Faust asked.
The boy sobbed harder but answered, "B-because of the expedition… They sent us and the adventurers… We're supposed to be killed by them so they can progress in the trial… but if we survive… we will be free."
Oh… that makes sense. I don't know what this Adventurers' Guild is, but they must be powerful, sending so many people. If I assume the people in the other castles were also adventurers, then… they control almost everything here. Am I the only one here that's not with with them?
"Alright. Thank you," Faust said, then raised his sword and struck the boy's head, splitting it open. Blood and brain matter spilled out.
No need for pity. They were equals—both weak. The boy was just a little weaker.
He searched the body. This time, he found a water canteen and strapped it to his waist.
Then, he continued on.
After a while, he returned closer to the central area. It had far more bodies than the distant section he had previously explored.
Still, he was careful not to be seen. He moved quietly between the fallen bookshelves, trying to spot a target.
He noticed a man looting a corpse. Silently, he approached, then fired six mana bullets. Mana bullets were the only attack he knew how to use with mana; his knowledge of mana was basic at best, trash at worst.
Three bullets struck the man before he turned and dodged the remaining shots. He wielded no weapons, but his fists were wrapped in bandages. He charged at Faust and threw a punch, which Faust dodged with a backward jump. Their speed was comparable, but Faust had the edge.
A fighter...
The man was clearly trained in hand-to-hand combat. He tried to close the distance to land a flurry of kicks and punches, but that played directly into Faust's advantage.
Faust simply kept his distance, firing while retreating. The man dodged many of the mana bullets, but he couldn't dodge them all. Eventually, the heavy blood loss took effect. He collapsed to his knees, panting heavily.
Was his behavior cowardly? Maybe. But it didn't matter. A win was a win. Until he reached the absolute, survival was all that mattered; no matter the cost.
Even then, Faust took no risks. He finished the man off with mana bullets once he was certain he could no longer move. When the man lay bleeding on the ground, Faust approached and split his head open with the sword. He had spent roughly sixty percent of his mana.
Faust was beginning to notice the weaknesses of a sword without a pointed tip. Most were made with one for a reason.
That was Faust's fourth kill in the colossal library. He searched the man's body once again, looking for anything useful. He found only a pouch. He didn't look inside this one either, just took it and tied it around his waist.
As he was about to stand up, a chill ran down his spine. He instinctively turned his head as a throwing blade whizzed past, slicing his ear open. Blood began to flow.
He turned to see a girl behind him, roughly his age. In one hand she held a curved dagger; in the other, she plucked throwing blades from her waist and hurled them at him.
He dodged as best he could, but it wasn't easy. Several blades slashed him, and he began to bleed heavily.
Shit! How many of these she has?!
Just as he complained, the girl charged, dagger raised in front of her face. She thrust it at his neck, but he blocked it with his sword.
They both retreated a few steps and then charged again.
Faust aimed to slice her neck and sever her head. She, in turn, went for another stab to his throat, this was easier to execute with a dagger.
As they clashed, she ducked under his swing. He tried to pull back and dodge her attack, but she was faster. Her blade grazed him, cutting upward from his chest to his neck. It wasn't deep, but it bled nonetheless.
Faust tried to kick her, but she dodged and rushed in again. He hurled his sword at her and let it go. She dodged, but her focus was broken.
When she turned her gaze back to Faust, she saw five mana bullets flying at her. She twisted her body to reduce the damage, but all five bullets pierced her shoulder, causing heavy bleeding.
Even after that, Faust remained at a disadvantage.
He charged at her. She tried to back away, but he slid across the floor and fired a mana bullet toward her head. She blocked it with her dagger.
But Faust had slipped behind her and reclaimed his sword. He turned and charged again.
She retreated, then leapt onto a bookshelf, using it to propel herself toward him.
Faust gripped his sword with both hands and aimed for her head. Her bloodshot eyes locked on his neck.
His expression was blank; hers, a wide smile. Both were fully focused on the battle.
Just as their attacks were about to land—
Their bodies froze. A fog of white, grey, and black enveloped them, halting their movement. Faust remained on the ground. The girl was suspended midair. Neither could move.
The fog dragged them between the crumbling bookshelves, many of which had fallen or broken during the chaos. It carried them back to the central area before slowly dissipating. They were dropped far apart from one another.
They both understood what that meant: the fighting was over.
Then, a voice rang through the entire hall.
"Only ninety-nine remain. For those who survived, thy evaluation shall be given now. You will be able to choose from the books offered."