Alden opened his eyes to the warmth of daylight shining on his face. He was curled up at the base of an ancient oak, each muscle in his body aching with a reminder of the struggle he had just escaped. His sword rested next to him, and the faint crackle of Arc Surge still buzzed across his arms whenever he shifted. He pressed a hand to his ribs, checking the bandages he had hastily tied around a deep gash. The blood had dried. He was still alive.
He gazed across the field of tall grass, remembering the final moments in the labyrinth's deepest chamber. He had believed that once he passed beyond the shining arch, he would see Sunder's Crossing or a familiar sky. Instead, a placid countryside stretched before him, a single winding path leading out of sight.
He felt his legs trembling when he tried to stand. The labyrinth had drained every reserve. The illusions had attacked his mind, monstrous guardians had tested his body, and unifying the Rune of Clarity had pushed him to the brink of collapse. Yet he had broken free. Now, confusion tugged at him.
He thought, Where am I? The labyrinth no longer pressed on his senses. The plain was quiet except for the wind stirring the grass. He spotted a signpost in the distance and forced himself to walk toward it, favoring his injured side. After a slow, painful trek, he reached the wooden post. Two planks pointed in different directions. One read "Wayfarer's Rest," the other said "South Plain." The paint was old, but the letters were clear.
He found himself drawn to the words "Wayfarer's Rest." The labyrinth had left him with no supplies, minimal coins, and open wounds that needed care. He needed shelter, food, and an explanation. He followed the sign, ignoring the throbbing in his shoulder. The path ran through knee-high grass, dotted with broken bits of metal—buckles, shards of armor, and corroded blades. They looked like they had lain there for years, maybe longer.
He proceeded until he glimpsed a wooden fence. Behind it rose a scattering of small buildings beside a tranquil lake. Thin columns of smoke curled above rooftops. He peered from a distance and saw a wide gate standing open, with no visible guards. Cautious but desperate, he approached.
A few villagers stood in an open yard, some carrying buckets of water, others resting on short benches. They wore plain clothing or light armor and appeared alert. When they noticed Alden's torn clothes and bloody bandages, they paused their tasks to watch. A faint tension filled the air. Alden felt his heart pound faster.
He slowed, keeping both hands visible. He had no intention of drawing steel here. He thought, If they attack, I am too weak to run. He offered a short greeting, but no one spoke until a woman stepped from a nearby structure. She wore a simple linen dress and carried a tray lined with rolled bandages. Her dark hair was pulled back into a loose bun. She studied Alden's injuries, then motioned for him to approach.
He limped closer, introducing himself as Alden. She introduced herself as Taria and asked if he came from "the labyrinth gate in the hills." Her words startled him. He nodded, though he still did not know where he was.
Taria took him by the arm, guiding him into a low building that smelled of herbs and antiseptics. Inside, shelves of jars lined the walls, and a single wooden table stood in the center. A few stools rested in the corners. Taria set him on the table, placed her tray down, and began cutting away his bloodied bandages.
He flinched when she poured a solution on a wound, but she reminded him to stay still. "Wayfarer's Rest has cared for travelers like you for many generations," she said in a calm voice. "Most arrive in better shape, but I have seen worse."
Alden took a moment to absorb her words. He tried to speak, but his throat felt tight. In the labyrinth, he had rarely had time to reflect on how many others might have faced similar horrors.
"You said this settlement has been here for generations," he managed, wincing when her solution stung a cut. "You must have a reason to stay, or do you also come from labyrinths?"
Taria's eyes flicked to a row of battered pouches hanging on the wall. Each had distinctive emblems, some unrecognizable, others bearing partial runic patterns. "We all arrived from different trials. The standard Trials each open a gate that leads here, whether you succeed or fail a certain portion of them. Most people's labyrinths link to Wayfarer's Rest, allowing them to exit in safety. The settlement formed a long time ago."
Alden wondered about his own labyrinth. It was labeled Unbound in his mind, a hidden anomaly no one believed was real. That might explain why it spat him out in a place built for standard Trials. Before he could speak, Taria brushed a strand of hair from her face and pointed to a wooden cabinet.
"Fetch me the green tincture from that shelf, please. I need to seal your deeper injuries."
He forced himself to stand, ignoring the pain in his ribs, and rummaged among small bottles and jars until he found the green tincture. She applied it to a gash on his forearm. The pain eased, replaced by a numb tingling.
He asked, "You said generations. How long do people remain here? Why not continue the Trials?"
She gave a quiet smile. "Many tried to proceed. Some returned with stories of advanced towers or more complex labyrinths. Others vanished. A good number lost interest in risking their lives. They built homes and raised families here, passing down what they learned to care for new arrivals. We call this place a safe space. We do not move forward unless a reason compels us. No one forces us to proceed."
Her tone carried resignation. Alden felt a twist in his gut. He recalled illusions in his labyrinth that had urged him forward. He thought, They must have chosen to abandon further Trials.
Taria finished bandaging him and directed him to a small cot in the corner. She offered him a bowl of hot soup, which he accepted gratefully. He noticed how her building resembled a clinic, with bandages, salves, and basic potions lining the shelves. She explained that she had learned healing from a passing traveler decades ago.
He realized he needed more details. "Does everyone here arrive the same way?" he asked. "I stepped through a portal and ended up alone in the field."
"Almost everyone." She gestured to a set of chipped stone tablets on a nearby table. "Typically, a normal labyrinth or lesser trial has a recognized gateway. Once a traveler completes or abandons that portion, they appear in the field near our signpost. We have seen thousands arrive, though not all in one era. Some arrived last month, others decades ago. The settlement changed over time. The Trials did not. They always lead here."
He swallowed another spoonful of soup. "Have you heard of an Unbound labyrinth?"
Her gaze flicked to him in confusion. "Not personally. Only rumors. I once met a man who claimed he had encountered an Unbound trial, but that was nearly sixty years ago. I never confirmed his story."
Alden tightened his hold on the spoon. "Mine was unrecorded. It called itself a hidden labyrinth. I found no sign that others had survived it. I barely escaped."
She stiffened, studying him. "Unbound. That is rare." She stood, moving to a shelf where she pulled down a small ledger. Flipping through pages of handwritten notes, she frowned. "I see mention of Unbound labyrinth survivors fewer than ten times in all the records we keep. Some became revered. Others caused great harm. There was no middle ground. They possessed abilities that surpassed ordinary measures."
Alden recalled the robed spirit that referred to him as "Unbound one." He had assumed it was a standard phrase. He thought, So it truly is rare.
He tried to question Taria about the advanced towers. She pursed her lips, glancing at the bandages and the ledger. "I will explain, but you need rest first. I do not want you passing out in shock." She also pointed out that a meager settlement like Wayfarer's Rest had limited knowledge of advanced Trials. "We see travelers come through, sometimes forming groups to continue onward. They rarely return. Some claim they can wait generations if no one arrives to trigger the next stage."
Those words puzzled him. "Why do they wait? Is there a rule that says the Trials cannot progress unless enough people gather?"
Taria nodded, placing the ledger back on its shelf. "That is how people here understand it. If no one claims the right to continue, the Trials remain dormant. We have lived quietly for three generations without a new call to proceed. The official gates to the advanced towers have stayed locked. Our older records say that once the final traveler needed to complete a group arrives, the system or the realm or something signals that the next trial is set to open."
She met his eyes with a level stare. "You will want to speak with the settlement elders. They track arrivals and watch for system prompts. Have you heard anything from your System since arriving? Any prompt about a new stage?"
Alden shook his head. "No. Once I exited, it went silent."
"Then you still have some time to recover." She walked toward the door, beckoning for him to follow. "There is a small tavern. You can eat a proper meal tonight, but I will need you to speak with the elders tomorrow."
He forced himself to stand, though his legs trembled. She guided him outside. The villagers were going about chores, tending to a few cultivated fields, repairing fences, or strolling along rudimentary lanes. He saw huts and stone buildings arranged near the lake. He noticed a large communal fire pit, some half-completed huts, and a single battered watchtower that overlooked the water. The settlement appeared functional but humble.
Taria led him to a modest tavern built of mismatched planks and stone. The sign above the door showed a weathered symbol: a simple crossing pattern with stylized runes. Inside, a few tables stood, hosting a handful of people sipping drinks or sharing hushed conversation. A lean, middle-aged man raised an eyebrow at Taria's entrance but said nothing. She pulled Alden to the bar and asked the barkeep to provide him with some bread and stew.
Alden ate while Taria quietly explained more. The settlement had once been larger. Over time, many families had left. Some grew tired of waiting for the Trials to open. Others passed away. The labyrinth gates never stopped bringing new arrivals, but they were fewer each year.
"Most come from normal trials," she said. "It has been three generations since we last had enough to open an advanced tower. Those with standard labyrinth experiences often choose to stay, lacking the desire for more danger. Now you appear with an Unbound labyrinth in your past." She paused.
Alden swallowed a mouthful of stew, savoring the warmth. "Why does that matter?"
Her gaze dropped. "Unbound survivors are said to carry unique authority. If you have arrived, the realm might register your presence. That can force the next advanced trial to begin, whether people here want it or not."
The statement made his pulse quicken. He thought, I only wanted to find my path, not disrupt an entire settlement.
She gave him a sad smile. "You should speak with the elders tomorrow. Then you will understand."
Alden spent the night in a small room Taria arranged at the clinic. Dawn came, and Taria brought him to a stone building near the center of Wayfarer's Rest. Three elders waited inside, each wearing a pendant with runic symbols. The oldest, a silver-haired woman named Ienza, led the discussion.
She asked Alden about his labyrinth. He told them of illusions, monstrous guardians, and the final battle that almost crushed him. They listened in tense silence. When he mentioned the phrase "Unbound labyrinth," they grew visibly disturbed. Ienza exchanged glances with the other two elders, then lifted a dusty tome from a table.
"We have records of only nine known Unbound labyrinth survivors," she said, opening the tome to a list of names. Alden saw row after row of scribbled text. A few names were circled or underlined. Ienza pointed out two. "One rose to great renown, almost worshipped by entire kingdoms. Another became a figure of terror and war. Both unleashed extraordinary power. This settlement has always hoped never to see a tenth."
A cold knot formed in Alden's stomach. "I have no intention of harming anyone, nor do I seek worship," he said. He had endured enough illusions. He only wanted to stand against helplessness, not rule or destroy.
Ienza nodded. "We believe you. Yet we have no control over the system that governs these Trials. Your arrival will register as the tenth survivor of an Unbound labyrinth, which signals that a new advanced trial can begin."
She flipped more pages, showing references to older expansions of the Trials. The text indicated that once enough suitable challengers had gathered, the advanced tower gates would open automatically. She tapped a line. "The system can remain dormant for generations if no necessary figure arrives, but an Unbound labyrinth survivor fulfills a critical piece. That triggers the countdown."
Alden felt his heartbeat pounding. He realized that his presence might upend the quiet existence these people had maintained for decades.
Ienza closed the tome. "You have triggered an irreversible process. The system will proclaim that all recognized challengers have ten days to prepare or to forfeit. If they refuse, the Trials may force them or cut them off from the privileges of this realm. None here can stop it. We must see what the system says next."
Alden rubbed a hand over his face. He had fought to survive, never knowing his arrival would carry such consequences. "When will we know?"
As if in response, a sudden vibration rattled the building, and a surge of energy pulsed through the air. Every person in the room stiffened. Ienza staggered, and the other two elders gasped. Alden felt something stir deep in his chest, near the place where Adaptive Will and the Rune of Clarity resided.
A ring of blue runes flashed across the walls, and a wave of intangible pressure swept outside. Shouts erupted from villagers in the street. Alden sprinted to the window and saw that the signpost near the settlement's gate glowed with lines of luminous script. Taria, standing outside, shielded her eyes from the glare.
A silent chime resonated in Alden's head.
DING
Lines of ghostly text formed in his vision. The letters scrolled, pulsing with a finality he could not deny:
The final participant has arrived
Authority: Unbound
Next Trial: The Tower of Resurgence
Time Remaining: 10 Days
All recognized challengers must decide
He clenched his fists. Every piece of Taria's explanation, of Ienza's caution, now manifested as a system directive. His presence had drawn the entire settlement into an advanced trial. The illusions he had faced in the labyrinth seemed trivial next to forcing an entire community to choose the path forward.
Ienza's eyes were wide when he turned around. "We have lived here for three generations without that gate opening," she said, voice trembling. "Now it will. People will have no choice but to acknowledge the trial or remain forever locked out of further progress. Some families may want to stay. Others might resent this. Old tensions could erupt."
Alden stood rooted to the floor. He had never sought to disrupt innocent lives. He only knew that an Unbound labyrinth had tested him. His vow was to prevent harm, yet he had inadvertently triggered the next wave of Trials.
The elders exchanged worried glances. Taria entered the room, breathless from running. "Everyone outside is asking what happened." She spotted the text in Alden's eyes and her face fell. "So it begins."
Alden felt the hush press in, the final statement of his arc through the labyrinth. He had walked free from illusions and dread, only to become the catalyst for a new trial. He thought, I cannot abandon these people.
He met Ienza's gaze. "I will do whatever I can to guide or protect those who wish to proceed. I owe that much for bringing this upon them."
She studied him for a moment, then nodded. "In that case, you will have a demanding ten days. Many will ask for your help, or blame you. Some might join you. Others might run. We will see."
Alden breathed in slowly. The labyrinth had forged him, but it had also thrust him into a position he never wanted—bearing the Unbound label that unsettled everyone around him. He recalled the illusions that drew out his worst fears, the monstrous guardians that tried to break him, and the robed spirit that had forced him to unify the Rune of Clarity. Each step had shaped him into someone who could stand beneath this weight.
He thought, I will accept this challenge. He would not voice empty promises or disclaimers. He had chosen to fight against helplessness. Now his presence gave them exactly ten days before the next trial forced their hand. The immediate future bristled with tension, alliances, and potential betrayals, and he would stand in the center.
He stepped forward, bandaged arm throbbing, and offered a steady look at Taria and the elders. "Tell me what to do first."
Outside, villagers gathered in confusion or alarm, staring at the glowing signpost. The wave of new knowledge washed over them, marking the end of three quiet generations and the beginning of a new trial. In that shifting moment, Alden realized his own trials had not ended with the labyrinth. A greater test was about to begin, and the entire settlement would be his responsibility—whether he wanted it or not.
He squared his shoulders, ignoring any protest from his wounds. This was no labyrinth corridor, but it was an arena all the same. He had vowed to protect and grow stronger, and now the system challenged him to fulfill that vow on a grander stage, with countless lives hanging in the balance.