Ymir continued wandering deep through the twisting corridors, avoiding monsters as best he could. He waited patiently for them to pass or turned back the way he came, hidden and unseen, measuring each step carefully while keeping silent, hoping an incident like the previous one wouldn't happen again.
Thinking back on all that had happened, Ymir realized that the moment he entered the maze, his decisions had grown erratic and chaotic. He kept making simple yet accumulated mistakes, not even taking the trial seriously. As he ventured deeper, his sense of terror grew stronger. Though he was starting to adapt, his thoughts were becoming more sluggish. He couldn't help linking his mounting unease, anxiety, and dread to the maze and its trial.
Another hour passed, and Ymir felt relieved that he hadn't yet encountered any mortal danger. He had nearly fought a gremlin but chose not to, instead picking another path.
The silence was deafening, trapping him with his thoughts and whispers that grew stronger with every step he took. At first incomprehensible, they grew louder and more intrusive with time.
Loneliness should've been a familiar companion. Naturally, when stressed or afraid, he relied on his inner monologue to distract him from his predicament. But that very monologue had caused his earlier outburst, meaning he now had to focus solely on the task ahead. No disturbances were allowed, and it only worsened his isolation.
Reaching the path's end, he crouched at a corner, using his knife as a mirror to check for incoming threats. To his frustration and deep disappointment, he spotted six giant, rodent-like creatures sleeping. Hairless with dark, leathery skin, their muscular, compact bodies lay resting on the floor. Brilliant green fire glowed from their mouths like drifting smoke.
After briefly observing them, Ymir knew he'd have to fight, so he needed to be fully prepared. He had no choice but to take the risk—gremlins blocked his path back, and the only route ahead was through these rodents.
Recalling his first kill and the alien beast, Ymir knew that in his state, defense mattered more than offense. He was weak—extremely so, also light as a feather. He could barely keep his breathing steady.
A simple idea struck him—he grabbed his tracksuit and sliced off the entire left sleeve, leaving his arm bare in the cold. He stared at his exposed arm—nothing but skin and bone. A bitter smile pulled at his lips as he thought, recalling the starvation and abuse: "How am I even alive after a whole year of... this?"
Shaking off the distractions, Ymir refocused on his task. He'd nearly drifted into memory lane, likely pulled by some unseen force. He wrapped it around his left forearm, forming a thick Kevlar-like fabric bind. He inspected his work and nodded in satisfaction, hoping it would hold if things turned violent.
He took a few deep breaths to steady his crumbling body, activated the knife's augmentation, and moved.
The rodents blocked the path ahead. Pondering over the hurdle, three possible solutions came to mind: he could sidestep and make a run for it—although his luck wasn't that good, he still wished for a miracle; he could kill one of them and walk past its corpse to escape—that is, if the others didn't wake up and surround him; or he could go on the offensive first, using the element of surprise to his advantage and killing as many as possible before getting surrounded.
Two choices depended on luck, and one depended on how effectively he could switch from target to target.
Making the obvious choice, Ymir inched toward the rodent nearest the right wall of the labyrinth. When he had examined them earlier, he had noticed how soft their belly area appeared. So he decided to target their bottom part.
He gradually approached, held his breath, bent down, and hacked the heated blade at what he presumed was the rodent's stomach. The edge of the knife pierced through skin like a knife through hot butter.
The creature's eyes snapped open and it screeched in agony, but Ymir didn't falter. He spun around, spotted the closest awakening rodent, and pounced at it. By the time he landed, his knife's blade was already embedded in its side.
A second pained screech followed, fully arousing the small pack.
Snarling sounds erupted. Ymir turned his head, and his pupils constricted as a figure rushed his way, aiming its clawed forelegs at his head. In a split second, as if possessed, Ymir retrieved his knife and rolled to the side, coming to a stop and standing next to the thorny vines.
Now he was surrounded—four giant rodents opposite him and the wall behind.
He didn't have time for panic to settle in; he was already experiencing that sensation for more than two hours. Fear was an afterthought as sweat dripped like water from a faucet, his breath came in ragged gasps, his muscles tensed, and a storm raged in his mind. He was at peak focus, gripping his knife like a lifeline.
Then the first rodent charged forward, followed by the rest. Ymir ducked down, and using the building momentum of the attacking rodent, he lifted his hand with the blade pointing upward. It punctured and sliced open the creature that had aimed at his head with its fangs. Its life snuffed out instantly, no sound escaping its emerald-lit mouth.
Green, viscous blood gushed like a waterfall, soaking Ymir's hair, face, and tracksuit. Still in his state of hyper-focus, with survival instincts controlling his senses, he didn't notice his worsening condition.
His head snapped toward the next threat, and through blurry vision, he could see the three remaining rodents rushing at him. Unable to evade their offense, the first one bit his right thigh, a second clawed his left abdomen, and the last sank its teeth into the makeshift fabric shield on his left forearm.
Unwillingly, Ymir screamed in anguish as pain consumed him. "YOU BASTARDS!" He couldn't afford to indulge in his suffering, so gritting his teeth, he just endured.
Swinging his left arm, Ymir slammed the rodent that had bitten the tracksuit fabric against the thorns behind him. The bloodied young man was surprised that he had been able to smash the rodent with such force.
The creature yelped as the thorns bit into its flesh. It fell to the ground as soon as it let go of Ymir's left arm.
The sudden unexpected movement forced the monster biting his thigh to let go. Taking that chance, Ymir pivoted on his unharmed leg and brought down his right hand, thrusting the blade into the still-struggling rodent that lay on the ground.
The last two circled him, eyeing his figure for any opening to finish him while he clutched his injured abdomen and leaned against his left leg for support. Warm red blood contrasted with the cold jade blood as he struggled to maintain focus.
The creatures shrieked in anger, edging closer with every step as Ymir kept retreating until his back pressed against the thorn-filled wall.
His mind was disturbingly quiet and empty, contrasting with his wildly beating heart and tightened chest. No thought lingered for more than a second. Only his desire for survival was prevailing, even if he had to claw and bite his way out of his plight.