51st of Season of Air, 59th year of the 32nd cycle

  The pressure suddenly increased as Newt climbed, and he looked up without stopping. The members of the lead group were still above him, and not a single one of those he could see had climbed over the ledge.

  Newt had experienced the spike on the eleventh cliff, but it was more gradual. This felt as if a non-trivial number of contestants had let go at the same time. It could have been a weird oddity with simultaneous trap activations, but such an event was unlikely. He shrugged off the pressure and kept scaling the precipice, using the tiny moment of confusion to reduce his lag.

  He had already collected the bonus, but did not hurl himself down. So far, the reward increased with each wall, and Newt decided to catch up, maybe even pull ahead, before using the opportunity to collect multiple rewards once they grew more valuable.

  It seemed like a fine strategy, instead of facing greater pressure alone, he would use the spare time to snatch the extra rewards. So far, he could see plenty of others ahead of him, he was probably out of the top five hundred group for now, but he would recoup his losses later.

  Newt reached the top and pulled himself over, when his danger sense flared. Granite Crust bloomed, starting from his left kidney, where he sensed the danger, but with the realm hampering him, Newt’s response came too late. Luckily, what struck him was a booted foot instead of a blade.

  Unformed Granite Crust shattered, dulling the blow from a stone-encased foot. A blade of water struck Newt’s neck, but fortunately, other patches of Granite Crust connected, protecting Newt’s upper body and spreading down to converge with the defenses of his legs. In a blink, he was encased in black armor, rolling on the ground to avoid the first onslaught of blows.

  Flames washed over him, their heat devoured by Magmin Scales, and Newt twisted. He spun on his hands, tripping three opponents, while the rest jumped away, giving him enough space to kip-up.

  Newt found his feet, still surrounded by his enemies. His instincts told him to fight, his reason told him not to kill his opponents. The venerable who had created the challenge said that eliminating opponents came at a cost for the entire team, not just him.

  What should I do? The only thing Newt could think of was crippling his opponents without killing them. He lunged for the nearest one, but the woman jumped away, while several others struck Newt from the back and from the side.

  The worst part was that his danger sense failed to register the attacks, since they were not dangerous. He spun around and grabbed an opponent’s wrist. The sand-cloaked golem of a man pulled back his arm, relying on his brute strength, like most earth cultivators, but pulled himself closer to Newt.

  Newt grabbed his other arm, then lifted the man into the air and spun him, clobbering another attacker with his bulk. Afraid to use his flames, lest he hurt his team, Newt found his hands tied. He was an inferior grappler, lacking the training and experience. While he was stronger and faster, his opponents made up for their lack with skill and team tactics.

  They are treating me like a dangerous dino.

  “Can we just stop with this childish nonsense?” Newt asked, realizing that even debilitating wounds were just something the water cultivators would probably heal once he left the group alone.

  His words were met with more attacks, and seeing the cliff not five paces away, Newt found his solution. He spun with the earth cultivator, forcing the others back, then hurled him as far into the distance as possible. He flew over the cliff, and Newt hoped he would plummet two cliff tiers.

  With one down, he was left surrounded by ten opponents, who suddenly hesitated.

  Newt willed his spiritual energy into the earth, to throw another one off the bluff, but the realm’s bony ground remained inert. He stood there, confused, when the ten attackers pounced him.

  Newt sent a controlled surge of flames at an air-cultivator’s legs. He aimed to burn everything beneath the knees, but only got his enemy below the ankles, still, it was enough. The man toppled in pain and Newt kicked him over the edge, breaking his ribs in the process.

  The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

  In the corner of his eye, Newt noticed other participants climbing up. They gazed at the fight, then with broad smiles ran to the next cliff to make use of the opportunity. The fight was chaotic and horrible. Newt was at a disadvantage, his opponents aiming to kill, while he aimed to disable and throw them down a level.

  He wasted three entire minutes to whittle down their number to four, three original opponents and another who joined them.

  “Can we stop now?” he asked again. “We’re all just wasting time. I can throw the rest of you off, and the only thing you’re achieving is holding me up here for another two or three minutes.”

  They did not stop, and Newt wasted another two minutes.

  ***

  “That was clever,” Sleek said. “By throwing them off the ledge, Newstar wasn’t really eliminating them, just sending them back to an earlier stage of the trial. The only one eliminated by the contestants so far was Dandelion. And once he was out, the majority of participants from the six teams, whose members had attacked him, just fell off the bluffs they were climbing.”

  The penalty for forcefully eliminating a participant was apparently much harsher than what the realm spirit had said. Or more likely than Sleek realized.

  “I don’t think that was supposed to happen,” Northstar interjected, ruffling her papers. “The realm spirit clearly said, ‘The vanquished person’s spiritual weight shall be added to each cliff’s burden the vanquisher’s team faces.’”

  She quoted the words, reading them from her notes, finally answering Sleek’s unasked question of what she was scribbling all the time. Northstar was writing down everything.

  “My guess is that the burden was increased manifold because Dandelion was attacked by a large group composed of multiple teams. There are records from the seventeenth cycle about three contestant eliminations in one-on-one battles, and while the effect was harmful to the teams of those who had eliminated their opponents, it was nowhere nearly as debilitating as what we have seen today.”

  Heavens, I wonder if those notes were made by some of her ancestors? I don’t know which sane person would write down something as nonsensical and commit it to posterity. Winner, second, and third place. That’s enough. Maybe top ten. Nobody really cares about the rest.

  Northstar then went into explaining what had happened in the previous incidents, but Sleek focused on the projections. The eight cliff lost its stragglers, thirty-nine men and women falling and getting ejected from the realm. Meanwhile, the lead group was conquering the fourteenth.

  Sleek had tried to make the rewards seem exciting at first, but again, the realm’s creator had worked against him. The rewards were as exciting as a grazing gastonia. Increasingly higher bonuses to teams’ total altitudes lacked imagination, and Sleek could tell the contestants were just as excited about them as the viewers. He could read unspoken curses in most of the lead contestants’ eyes.

  Especially Maelstrom Tidebreaker. The tomboyish woman was ready for a barrage of profanities as soon as she left the Luckless Trial and its guardian’s sphere of influence.

  “Do you think there will be more clashes?” Sleek did not ask just to pass the time, fantasy matches between the best contestants made for a much better broadcast than sticking to the boring reality. Had Hardy been with him, Sleek would have started a joking banter. Alas, he was stuck with a cross between an encyclopedia and a rock.

  “I find it unlikely. Even the historical records…” Northstar started talking, and Sleek’s mind once more abandoned the connection with the ears, searching for anything of interest on the projections, but found nothing.

  At least the fourth realm climbs are as dull as these are.

  ***

  While his climb may have appeared dull to others, to Newt the struggle was real. Fortunately, the contest was not one of speed, but of endurance, and having people ahead reduced his burden.

  He believed himself unlucky, so he did not approach the nests. With so many contestants ahead, it was possible the nest he would choose was empty, a waste of time and energy. No, he would start collecting them again once he rejoined the lead group.

  I shouldn’t have intentionally jumped off the cliff. That allowed those guys to gather and gang up on me.

  And Newt realized his score would have been quite poorer had he directly eliminated his opponents, allowing them to burden him and his teammates.

  Maybe that was their plan all along? To sacrifice a couple of people and make the Explorer’s Gate’s climb more difficult.

  Newt clenched his teeth instead of cursing as the fingertips of his right hand met oil. Again.

  If only I could use Granite Crust to cover my hand after making them slippery… But then again, if all the contestants could use their abilities while climbing, it would defeat the purpose of the trial.

  Worse, he did not have any tools, nothing save the robe he wore.

  That’s it! Newt had already used his robe as a sack for spirit beast cores. He could also repurpose it for the trial he was facing now. But how? As he scaled the cliff, Newt forged a plan.