Just then the whistle blew indicating the end of the round, and also indicating Octvaius/Edwin with the highest score so far.
Octavius dropped the rope, still pondering over Void's words. The title of the challenge took on a new meaning to him suddenly. The word "thread" seemed fitting, implying a delicate, intricate connection rather than a test of brute force.
Octavius's eyes widened as he realized that Void might be right – the key to success lay not in strength, but in understanding the subtle nature of the challenge.
Regardless, he had finished the challenge, and he accepted the score given. If he had overexerted himself, it could imply something different. And he, of all people, understood the consequences of being different.
Just like the Architect faction, who were considered different and, as a result, not particularly potent. Octavius silently hoped that their wins wouldn't come with a darker cost later on.
As he turned to make his way back to his faction, he noticed the hall was more crowded than before. It seemed more people, including former students, had gathered to witness the unprecedented events unfolding.
Octavius inferred that multiple wins from the Architect faction was a rare occurrence. The crowd consisted of more adults, likely teachers, and seniors in uniform, but there were still no mages in sight.
As Octavius rejoined his team, Otto was the first to congratulate him on his win, eagerly jumping on him before the others could react.
Soon, another group stepped forward for their turn. Erick had wanted to go last, but Nadia refused to budge.
"Hey, it's your turn," Erick told Nadia, but she didn't flinch or move an inch from where she stood. Erick tried again, but when he realized Nadia was determined to go last, he decided to step forward instead.
The guard's whistle pierced the air, signaling the start of the next round. Octavius's eyes scanned the group, his gaze lingering on the familiar faces of those who had attempted to bully him earlier in the other faction. One of them, still nursing the injuries inflicted by Void, winced with each tentative movement, his face twisted in pain.
The others, however, were undeterred, pouring all their energy into the challenge. They grunted and strained, their faces red with exertion, as they tried to wrestle the rope toward the lines.
Erick, meanwhile, employed a different strategy, methodically moving the rope from the left to the right of the walls without pulling the rope, his movements fluid and deliberate.
The crowd watched in bewilderment as Erick's unorthodox strategy unfolded. Halfway through the challenge, he suddenly ripped the rope free and took off in a sprint, the severed rope clutched in his hand.
He dashed towards the third line, and the moment he crossed it, the ranking system flashed to life, branding him with a rank of B. He was the first to be ranked, and his score surpassed the previous benchmark.
The other competitors, inspired by Erick's success, attempted to replicate his method. However, time was running out, and they soon realized they could utilize their magical abilities to gain an edge.
As the final countdown began, the tension mounted. Just as the guard raised the whistle to his lips to signal the end of the session, a competitor from the Leviathan faction and the Conjurer Faction made a desperate leap toward the second line.
One of them managed to graze the second line with his fingertips, but failed to surpass it. The others, however, achieved a modest success, their feet scraping against the ground as they barely managed to cross the first line. The crowd erupted into a mixture of cheers and sighs, with some onlookers shaking their heads in disappointment.
The set that had participated in the previous rounds watched with a mix of disappointment and regret, their faces etched with "what ifs" as they wondered why they hadn't attempted a similar feat. Some of them glanced at Erick with a newfound respect.
As Erick made his way back to his faction, he was mobbed by his peers, who bombarded him with questions.
"How did you think of that?" someone asked, eyes wide with curiosity.
"What inspired you to try a different approach?" another person chimed in.
Erick grinned, basking in the attention as he walked through the crowd, his footsteps slow and deliberate.
"I heard it's whispers," he replied, his tone casual, but his expression guarded, clearly unwilling to divulge any more information about his thought process. The crowd pressed in, eager for more, but Erick's smile only grew wider, his silence speaking volumes.
[I told you, ] Void said to Octavius with a knowing glance, [the creature inside likely has the hopes and fears of the participants wrapped around its neck, which is why it struggles so fiercely to hold the rope back. And it seems Erick overheard its desperate whisper: 'just cut the rope' – hence his unexpected win.]
Erick turned to Nadia. "You're going to have a tough time with your challenge now that the rope is cut. You'll have to sprint all the way to the cave's entrance to grab it from the starting point. The odds are against you; it's unlikely you'll not make it. And I don't mean the game."
Nadia remained silent, her expression unreadable. When her turn arrived, she stepped forward with a calm, collected demeanor. Others from the final group also moved forward, their eyes fixed on the challenge ahead. The crowd held its collective breath, anticipation hanging in the air.
A few members of the group exuded confidence, clearly intent on replicating the successful tactic employed by previous participants. Their eyes gleamed with determination, but Nadia's expression remained inscrutable, giving no hint of her strategy or her intent.
As the guard stepped forward, the participants from the other faction exchanged confused glances. "Aren't you going to provide a new rope?" one of them asked, their voice tinged with concern. "Our chances of success will be even lower if we have to run all the way to grab the cut rope."
However, the guard remained silent, his expression impassive. He raised the whistle to his lips and blew, the sharp sound echoing through the air. The group's confusion turned to panic, with some participants hastening to make a dash for the rope. Nadia, however, remained stationary, her eyes fixed intently on the cave entrance.
Just as two participants reached out to grab the rope, a massive hand emerged from the darkness of the cave, its fingers closing around them like a vice. The crowd gasped in horror as the hand pulled the two struggling participants back into the depths of the cave.
Octavius overheard Erick's murmured comment, "This is what I was afraid of, that's why I wanted to go last."
Octavius found Erick's words puzzling, wondering why he seemed to care about the well-being of others when he had so callously set Octavius up to die.
As the situation continued to deteriorate, Octavius scanned the surroundings, searching for the arrival of mages who might be able to restore order.
However, his gaze drifted past the gathering crowd and settled on the seniors who had arrived to witness the commotion. Amidst their curious glances, one face stood out - a face Octavius knew all too well.
It was Thorne - the one person he had considered a true friend, the one person he had thought he could trust.
Noticing someone's heavy gaze on him, Thorne turned to match Octavius stare.