Ymir continued his wander deep into the twisting corridors, avoiding monsters as much as he could. He waited patiently for them to pass by or just turned back the way he came from, hidden and unnoticed, measuring each step carefully while keeping his mouth shut in the hopes an incident like the previous one wouldn't repeat itself.
Thinking back to everything that had happened, Ymir noticed that the moment he stepped into the maze, his decision-making had become erratic and chaotic. He kept making simple but piling mistakes, not even taking the trial seriously. As he went deeper, his fear intensified. Although he was starting to adapt, his thought process was growing more sluggish. He couldn't help but connect his growing sense of unease, worry, and alarm to the maze and its trial.
Another hour passed, and Ymir was relieved he hadn't encountered any mortal danger yet. He had come close to fighting a gremlin but decided against it, opting instead to choose another path.
The silence was deafening, leaving him alone with his own thoughts and whispers that intensified with each action he took. They were incomprehensible at first but grew louder and more intrusive as time passed.
Loneliness should have been a familiar companion. Naturally, when he was stressed or afraid, he would have an inner monologue that could distract him from his current predicament. But that same monologue had been the cause of his earlier outburst, which meant he should focus solely on the task ahead. No disturbances were allowed, and this only deepened his isolation.
Reaching the end of the path, he crouched at a corner and used his knife as a mirror to glimpse any incoming threats. To his frustration and utter disappointment, he saw six sleeping giant rodent-like creatures. They were hairless with dark, leathery skin, their compact and muscular bodies resting on the ground. Brilliant green fire gleamed from their mouths like smoke.
After studying them briefly, Ymir knew he would have to engage in a fight with them, so he needed to be well prepared. He had to take the risk since he was cornered—a group of gremlins blocked his path and the only way forward was past these rodents.
Recalling his encounter with his first kill and the alien monster, Ymir realized that in his current condition, defense mattered more than offense. He was weak—extremely so. He was feather-light and could hardly keep his breathing stable.
A basic idea popped into his mind, he grabbed his tracksuit and tore off the entire left sleeve with his knife, leaving his arm bare against the cold breeze. He stared at his exposed limb—nothing but skin and bone. A bitter smile tugged at his lips as he thought to himself, remembering the abuse and starvation he had endured: "How am I still alive after a whole year of... this?"
Pushing away the distractions, Ymir concentrated on his task again. He had nearly been swept into memory lane, probably under some hidden influence. Wrapping it around his left forearm, he made a thick kevlar-made fabric bind. He examined his creation for a moment and nodded in satisfaction, hoping it would hold if push came to shove.
He drew in a few calming breaths to regain some control over his crumbling body, activated his knife's augmentation, and made his move.
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.