"Ashford. You will never get inside this maze. You have no spirit‑beast capable of deciphering dragon runes. The day you get trapped in there‑‑" He paused, his voice dropping lower, "‑‑I will not come to save you."
He left. His footsteps echoed up the sloped corridor, fading little by little until they vanished completely.
The five stood before the maze entrance. The walls shifted once more, a low rumble rolling out from deep within the labyrinth, as if someone had quietly turned a page in the dark.
Freddy let out a long breath, leaned against the wall, and wiped sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.
"I almost lost my composure back there," he said, his voice still trembling slightly, though a smile tugged at his lips. "That ’after you’ gesture you pulled looked completely genuine."
"They truly were never going to go in," Cecil replied. "Leon is not cowardly, he is simply not foolish. He saw exactly what we saw. He holds no extra information. He would never gamble the lives of seven Group‑A students on an unknown shifting maze with no map and no prior markings."
Lydia readjusted Ivy around her wrist, the vine serpent coiling tighter against her skin. "They retreated, but what about us? Are we still going inside?"
Cecil turned toward the maze entrance. The newly opened gap in the wall remained wide enough for one person to slip through sideways. The blue glow of runes along the stonework shimmered faintly in the dimness, like a row of watching eyes.
"Yes," he said.
"But we do not have a map," Oliver pointed out.
Cecil glanced down at Gwendolyn on his shoulder. She had opened her eyes, her blue gaze fixed on the flowing runic light deep inside the maze. She said nothing, yet her tail slipped free from his collar and tapped his shoulder lightly, a silent signal that she was ready.
"We have another way," Cecil stated.
He walked up to the nearest shifting wall and stopped, pressing his right palm against its surface. Frigid frost seeped out from his palm, spreading through the cracks between the stone bricks. The dark‑green moss hardened into brittle flakes, and the blue runes embedded in the mortar flared faintly at the touch of his cold energy.
Gwendolyn hopped down from his shoulder to land at his feet, placing one front paw onto the same wall. The two streams of frost converged inside the stone, like two small rivers merging into a dried‑up riverbed. The ancient runes along the wall began to flicker, awakened like fireflies, dimming and brightening in steady pulses.
Cecil closed his eyes for a moment to focus.
"We can navigate it," he said, opening his eyes and nodding toward the rest of the group. "Together, she and I can trace the flow of the runes. We can predict roughly half a minute in advance which direction the walls will shift next."
The four exchanged glances. Freddy lifted Turner out of his arms and set the weasel on his shoulder, its ears perked upright.
Ivy slid off Lydia’s wrist, climbing up her arm to rest on her shoulder, her emerald body tensed. Oliver sent Robin soaring back into the air, the falcon circling low overhead. Edwin knelt down and patted Rust’s shell; the beetle rolled over, its antennae twitching upward.
The five lined up facing the maze entrance.
"Let us move," Cecil said.
He was halfway through squeezing into the wall gap when footsteps sounded behind him.
These were not the slow retreating footsteps heading back up the slope. They were returning, and far quicker, boot‑heels striking the stone floor in an almost hurried rhythm. Cecil halted and glanced over his shoulder. The other four spun around at the same time.
Leon stood alone at the entrance. His thunder griffin had not followed him inside; it waited out in the outer tunnel, its golden eyes peering through the crack, still as a carved statue.
Leon’s hands hung loosely at his sides. His relaxed posture felt forced, as though he was deliberately signalling he had not come to fight.
"Would you consider working together with us?" he asked.
Cecil froze, wedged halfway inside the maze, one half of his body beyond the wall and the other still outside. After a short pause, he slowly stepped back out onto the moon‑lit ground.
His four companions stared in surprise. Freddy’s mouth hung open, words caught in his throat. Lydia furrowed her brows in confusion.
Oliver settled Robin back onto his shoulder, the grey falcon tilting its head at Leon as if observing something strange. Edwin glanced down at Rust, the beetle’s antennae rigid and unmoving.
Cecil first looked toward Gwendolyn, who crouched by his feet, her blue eyes locked on Leon, tail hanging still. Sensing his gaze, she gave an almost imperceptible head‑shake, so subtle it would have gone unseen if Cecil had not been watching her.
"Work together?" Cecil turned back to Leon, genuine confusion colouring his tone. "You just called us worthless. Now you want an alliance?"
Leon’s expression did not shift. Beneath the moonlight, his ice‑blue eyes looked deeper than usual, like winter lake ice trampled by a boot. "I said the rest of Group‑B were worthless. I never said all of you were." His gaze lingered on Cecil. "You can get Gwendolyn to decode the dragon runes. That is what I realised while I was up on the slope. Your lizard can read the writing on these walls, can she not?"
Cecil neither confirmed nor denied it.
Leon continued, speaking a little faster, as though afraid he would change his mind if he paused. "The runes in this maze are dragon‑crafted. None of us in Group‑A can read dragon script. You hold the only means of deciphering them. We possess something you do not." He jerked his chin toward the entrance, where the seven Group‑A students and their spirit‑beasts waited outside. "Numbers and battle experience. The shifting walls rearrange every two minutes. You know how much faster twelve people can explore compared to five."
Cecil fell silent for several seconds. He could feel the four behind him watching, waiting for his reply. Moonlight slanted through the tunnel mouth, casting a long bright streak across the ground before them, like a door barely ajar.
"You insulted us only moments ago, and now you propose a partnership," Cecil said. "Why should I trust you?"
A faint twitch pulled at Leon’s mouth, not a smile, but a reaction that read as I expected this. "I told you, you are not worthless. Naturally you will not trust me. But I have brought proof of my good faith." He unfastened a small leather pouch from his waist. He shook it, and the clear clink of metal echoed out. "Inside are three high‑purity mana crystals. Your spirit‑beasts can use them to rapidly restore their drained magic. Consider this advance payment for our cooperation."
Freddy whispered quietly from behind, "He brought that along while tailing us?"
Cecil ignored the aside. He stared at the pouch, then back at Leon’s face. There was no obvious trickery in those ice‑blue eyes, at least none easy to spot. Yet Cecil knew the most dangerous schemes were the ones you could not see.
He looked once more at Gwendolyn. She remained crouched at his feet, sweeping her tail lightly across the stone in another tiny, deliberate motion.
Cecil understood the signal. Her head‑shake and tail‑sweep meant the same thing: no. He had only known her a short while, but he had learned to read that gesture.
She doubted Leon’s motives, suspected the mana crystals might carry hidden catches, and questioned whether the maze could safely hold two distrusting groups exploring side‑by‑side.
Still, she recognised another truth. Their window to explore the maze might close tonight. The walls kept shifting, the runes kept operating, and no one knew when the labyrinth would seal itself off again.
Cecil glanced at the leather pouch in Leon’s hand, then toward the seven waiting Group‑A students bathed in moonlight outside the entrance. Their spirit‑beasts lay quietly at their feet, no one making aggressive moves.
"We can work together," Cecil said. Leon’s eyebrows lifted slightly, only for Cecil’s next sentence to flatten that faint spark of hope.
"But we set the rules. First, you and your group must stay at least ten paces behind us at all times. Second, you are forbidden from privately recording any runic information you observe. Third, if we trigger any dangerous traps inside the maze, your group tests them first. You have more people and more combat experience, so it should pose no trouble for you."
Leon’s faint expression faded, replaced by a heavier, sterner look. "You want my people to act as your shields?"
"You want my companion to act as your translator," Cecil replied. "An equal exchange."
Neither spoke. The tunnel fell so quiet it felt submerged underwater, even the low rumble of shifting walls falling temporarily silent.
Leon tucked the leather pouch back onto his belt. He did not step forward, nor did he retreat. He simply stood bathed in moonlight, his ice‑blue eyes fixed on Cecil, like a sheathed blade still undecided whether it would be drawn again.
Cecil did not wait for his answer. He turned and squeezed sideways back into the wall gap, Gwendolyn slipping in right behind him, her blue‑white scales flashing once in the shadows.
Behind him, his four teammates followed one after another. Freddy paused briefly as he passed Leon, not meeting his gaze, yet spoke clearly before the wall sealed shut.
"Think carefully before you follow us inside."