The Divided Peak
We arrived at the mountain with four hours to spare. The peak loomed incredibly high, its summit welcoming us with a fluttering flag. We were much later than expected. The path here had been riddled with obstacles. The monkeys had just been the beginning. The monster attacks were relatively straightforward—dealing with foes with such clear intent was almost easy. The real annoyances were the traps that might not even be traps. The worst was the mirror illusion. I thought we were making steady progress forward, only to realize the mana paths had split into multiples. By the time I noticed, the mountain's image had replicated all around us. It was a bizarre phantasm that perfectly mimicked even the flow of mana. We were trapped inside for nearly three hours. We each tried various escape methods. I sent puppets far out to scout the surroundings, but they looped endlessly through the same spots like rats in a maze. In the end, there was only one way out: shatter the unknown illusion. For that, the team cooperated for the first time. Shaking Rope unleashed a massive curse that began eroding the illusion, briefly revealing the hidden mirrors—the culprits behind it all. Ailey and Hongryeong hammered them with their magic. The mirrors shattered under the assault, creating a tiny gap. I sent puppets through it to find a safe path. Many didn't return, vanishing as the route kept shifting. After consuming countless puppets in tense frustration, we finally broke free.
We'd passed several such traps, leaving the turtle covered in wounds. Its shell had cracked badly enough that the damage nearly reached my workshop. Despite repairing it constantly en route with my best efforts, fresh injuries always outpaced the fixes. By the time we reached the mountain, the unscathed parts looked fewer. It had truly suffered.
The mountain path was too steep for the turtle. I discreetly pulled out my pocket and stowed it inside. The others were already climbing, so it went unnoticed. I followed, ascending slowly while scanning for threats. What might lurk here too? Fortunately, we reached the summit without incident. What stood out was the immense mana surging continuously from the peak. All the mana flows we'd seen on the way originated here. The massive flag awaiting us scattered into the air as we arrived. Everyone let out a deep sigh of relief. The second task was complete.
In the flag's place appeared a single object: a gigantic hourglass. The sand had just begun trickling down slowly.
"We have to protect this, right?" Hongryeong said. This must be the vital item from the task's protection directive. Eyeing the sand, it looked about right for two weeks. Clearly, we had to guard this hourglass through the third and fourth tasks until it fully drained. The third and fourth seemed designed to overlap.
I surveyed the group. We'd learned bits about each other on the way up, but no camaraderie had formed—just a gnawing sense that they knew me better than before. Cooperating with these people for two weeks? Impossible. The task setter probably hadn't counted on it either. Maybe that's why the third was individual evaluation.
"Let's divide the mountain into five zones and build our own fortresses," Hongryeong proposed. Sound logic. Sharing control of your fortress with untrustworthy strangers was folly; true mages handled their own from start to finish. As fellow mages, they'd all be seasoned at erecting domains. We scattered to scout, quickly settling on zones—some wide, some narrow. Hongryeong claimed the southeastern cliffside expanse, about a quarter of the total terrain. Perfect for his wind magic, no doubt. Ailey took the northern valley with its flowing stream—nothing else notable. Siger picked the eastern rock face, matching his mana perfectly. Shaking Rope chose the western forest we'd come through, its gentle slopes rich with mana-infused trees even denser than below. I took the spot between her and Hongryeong. Location didn't matter much; who your neighbors were did. I'd considered east between Ailey and Hongryeong, but Siger claimed it first. Sandwiched between powerhouses didn't appeal anyway. It was a moderately steep area blending decent trees and rocks.
We regrouped at the hourglass. Everyone seemed pleased with their zones, faces bright. Hongryeong naturally pulled out a rough map of the mountain and marked our divisions.
"From now on, these are our individual territories. Let's make the next two weeks count." He circled the overlapping center around the hourglass. "Defend your zones solidly. If even one of us dies, we all lose."
Nods all around. Other zones breaching didn't faze me much. The keys were safeguarding the hourglass and ensuring no deaths. I glanced at Hongryeong and Ailey. If they subdued the rest and ran the exam solo? No clear counter. That was the real issue. But they showed no such intent—perhaps wary of each other. Small mercy.
"No worries there!" Siger boomed heartily. Routine for a border veteran; fort-building and defense were just extensions of his battles.
"Even with personal fortresses complete, we still need to guard this hourglass," Hongryeong said with a smile. Siger crossed his arms. "Hmm."
"Build your fortresses your way, but allocate some capacity here—a joint defense zone. So even if one zone falls, we hold."
Made sense. Blocking everything was ideal, but "unavoidable" monster leaks could happen. This preempted hourglass threats. He doesn't trust us already, I thought. Fair enough. Personal forts were individual, but hourglass destruction meant group failure. Hongryeong planned assuming breaches—probably pegging me as the weak link, since I hadn't fought en route. Others had shown their stuff. Fifth task might get dicey. I scratched my chin.
"Dismissed, then. Meet back here if needed." Hongryeong vanished like the wind.
"Talkative young master, huh," Ailey said, stretching. She floated up, winking at me. "Puppeteer pal, drop by anytime."
She'd chattered nonstop en route—must've warmed to me. I nodded with a smile. Shaking Rope bowed briefly and left. Siger stared at the hourglass, arms crossed.
"Two weeks, huh..." he muttered, watching the sand awhile before heading off.
I turned but didn't go to my zone. Instead, I veered southeast—to Hongryeong's territory. I didn't put much stock in solo fortress-building. People have talents; why toil alone in my weak spots? I'd seen his power en route. My earlier worry stemmed from his clear ability to hold the mountain solo. For him, this task was a breeze. No need to challenge such a force—better to serve and ally thoroughly. With that mindset, I approached.
Hongryeong had claimed the highest ridge and cliffs. Protruding hills and sheer drops whipped up fierce winds. Below, in the gentler areas, gales pooled intensely—ideal for his wind magic. I stood before his light barrier, flaring my mana to signal. He was etching a massive spell circle into the cliff. Only after perfecting it did he approach, smiling.
"What brings you here?"
"To propose an alliance, Lord Hongryeong." I bowed politely.
He narrowed his eyes, smile deepening. "Alliance? Intriguing."
"Our zones adjoin, so linking them should ease the tasks."
He grinned, conjuring a wind chair and lounging. I ordered a puppet to craft a table from a rounded rock. Might need a table-making spell, I mused. Or habitat spells for comfy wilderness living. Tucking the thought away, I ground precious coffee—my last handful. Tea had dominated the trip; time for this treat. Not as refined as tea (professor disliked bitter), but laced with subtle magic. Hongryeong sipped, savoring.
"So, why should I ally with you?"
Fair question. He didn't need help.
"I'll name you primary contributor." I offered my most valuable asset bluntly. Ten extra points on selection would tempt him—safer pass, and as a great house scion, he craved more than bare success. Mages often self-nominate; my pick boosted his odds hugely. Appealing deal. His eyes widened slightly—he hadn't considered it.
"Fun idea." He sipped, nodding. "Done. How do we proceed?"
"Thank you." Deep bow—sincere gratitude. My whole strategy hinged on him, planned since spotting the mountain. Backups existed, but this powerhouse was safest.
"Here's my fortress design." I revealed the full maze layout—my favorite. Lure monsters into lethal traps. Core concept.
"Amusing fortress," he chuckled. "For massacring weaklings?"
Spot on. My limit, really—attacks via puppets, not spells. Traps maximized my physical prowess. Cost-ineffective beyond low-tiers.
"Yes. I'll handle all low-level monsters up to your zone."
Reusable design: endless fodder slaughter. Tailored to him—he shunned tedium, minimizing effort. I'd picked him over Ailey for easier read; he hid little. His barriers: wind walls repelling/launching foes, like the monkeys. Intruders breaching faced blade-winds below. Minimal mana, max power—quick setup. More lurked, surely.
"Divide vertically. I take lows below; you handle breakthroughs above."
I unfolded my surveyed map, splitting our combined zones by terrain. Flats mine; steep cliffs his. My upper zone mirrored his cliffs, enabling it.
"Chose that spot deliberately?" He laughed. I bowed deeper. Map bared my intent—no secrets built trust.
"Yes. Let's do it."
He waved, tweaking his spells: cliffs sealed razor-tight, power amplified. Relief sighed inwardly. Alliance secured. Bowed again, departed quietly.
My share was nearly a third of the mountain. Attacks unpredictable—time to build my fortress with all haste, reshaping the vast zone entirely.