What did the elf mean when he said Alex was making him wait all this time? Alex truly didn't understand what the elf was getting at with those words. Why had the elf been waiting alone on the blood-soaked ground? The floor where he sat was slowly pooling with fresh blood, and Alex realized that the elf hadn't just killed one person, but several other examinees just some moments prior, from the looks of blood flowing from his body down to the earth. What kind of power did this elf possess to be so terrifyingly strong?
Alex narrowed his eyes, peering past the elf, and his breath caught in his chest. Multiple black, swirling vortexes were closing in from behind the elf, and as Alex glanced left and right, he saw the vortexes forming a semicircle, slowly creeping toward them.
The zone was shrinking. What cruel fate was this, that after climbing so high up the cliff, he now found himself in front of the shrinking zone once again? It almost felt like he was fated to be chased by it—whenever he tried to fight or explore, the black vortex would come for him, as if they shared a twisted bond.
Seeing no one else but the elf, Alex glanced up at the sky, searching for the timer.
And in the center of the sky, it was there, floating suspended in the air, just as before, its red glowing numbers blazing across the sky: 4:23:57:55.
A realization he had tried to ignore crept back into his mind. He turned to look at the elf, who still lounged in his spot, looking as bored as ever. Was it really just the two of them left in this entire battleground? He glanced at the timer again—three minutes left. No, wait. Two minutes now. The timer read 4:23:58:10.
Alex was at a loss for words. Somehow, despite still having zero points, he'd survived almost until the end, and the only other person left was this elf—a monster who probably had points in the double digits.
Suddenly, the elf stood up, and in the blink of an eye, he was right in front of Alex, his sword raised high above his head, ready to bring it down in a deadly arc.
Alex didn't know how or when it happened, but his hands slipped from the cliff. Maybe he just couldn't hold on any longer, or maybe it was the sheer shock of the elf charging at him. Whatever the reason, he found himself falling back toward the river below.
The elf stood on the cliff above, his gaze icy and cold, eyes dark as the void. Then, in a single heartbeat, he leaped from the cliff as well. But unlike Alex, who was plummeting helplessly, the elf seemed to run along the cliff face, his legs moving so fast they blurred. His yellow hair, streaked with blood, floated wildly around his face, making him look almost like a grim reaper chasing after Alex.
Alex didn't want to die yet. A fierce desire bloomed in his chest—maybe, just maybe, he could be the last one standing. Or at least, if he could just hold on, he could be one of the final two when the timer hit the five-day mark. Only one minute remained as he gazed at the timer.
Without hesitation, Alex drew two daggers from his dimensional space, twisting his body to the right to aim at the elf. The elf didn't slow down—in fact, he sped up. Alex seized the moment and hurled both daggers at once: one aimed at the elf's chest, the other at his legs.
But the elf dodged effortlessly, using his sword to deflect the daggers. Refusing to give up, Alex kept summoning daggers one by one and flinging them at the elf—some aimed at his head, others at his body and legs, and a few lower down, hoping to break the cliff's surface, even just a little.
The plan worked better than Alex expected. The cliff beneath the elf gave way, sending dust and mud flying. The elf, caught in motion, lost his footing and was suddenly pelted by stones and debris.
Seizing the opportunity, Alex hurled his remaining daggers, aiming the last few at the top of the cliff. He wanted to break the mountain wall and bring it crashing down on the elf.
The daggers were even more powerful than Alex had hoped. The cliff wall above the elf began to crumble, massive chunks crashing down. But the elf was relentless, defending himself with his sword. His slashes were almost beautiful, slicing through the falling stones and chunks of cliff with impossible precision. Meanwhile, Alex clutched his last dagger, saving it for a desperate moment.
And then, the worst happened. The elf leaped from the cliff, heading straight for Alex, weaving through the cascade of falling debris. His focus never left Alex, even as he cut through stones and chunks of cliff, but it wasn't enough—more and more debris kept falling over the elf. Thankfully, Alex was away from the cliff's edge, right in the center of the river, which kept him out of harm's way.
But even under the onslaught of the collapsing cliff, the elf managed to appear right in front of Alex, albeit with injuries of his own, ready to strike. Alex twisted in the air, raising his last dagger diagonally in front of his face, just above his head, bracing for the elf's vertical sword strike. And just as sword met dagger, everything went black, as if the shadows had devoured all the light.
For a moment, Alex could see nothing at all. His right hand was empty—he'd lost the dagger. Then, all at once, a blinding white light slammed into his eyes.
***
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