I wrapped it in the most foolish, intuitive impression I could manage.
Instead of complicated explanations about magical distortion or barrier interference,
I hoped it would simply look like a coward’s groundless anxiety.
Amelia, who had been organizing the medical supplies and overheard me, approached with a flustered expression.
“Huh? The stakes? What’s wrong with them?
They were installed at the exact intervals specified in the manual… Why would that make the injured feel worse?”
She looked back and forth between the stake and me with anxious eyes.
It was only natural that her common sense couldn’t understand my sudden nitpicking.
Even I couldn’t provide any logical basis for it.
“No, it just feels that way to me.
When something pointy is aimed at a patient’s bedside, it kind of feels like their energy is being drained.
It’s scary, too.”
I forced myself to add some nonsense and averted my gaze.
Amelia parted her lips slightly as if she found it absurd.
But Rine’s reaction was different.
She stared intently at the stake,
then nodded with an extremely serious expression.
“Then we’ll change its position.”
“…Huh?”
I looked at her in bewilderment.
That was far too immediate an acceptance.
“No, you said it was driven in according to the manual.
I was just talking nonsense, and you’re going to pull it out right away?”
“Yes. It’s only a matter of moving something fixed to the ground a little to the side, so it won’t be difficult.”
Without hesitation, Rine rolled up her sleeves and gestured to Amelia.
“Amelia, could you help me lift this support over here?
Let’s move the stake about two meters farther outward.”
“Ah, yes! Understood!”
Without knowing what was going on, Amelia began bustling about according to Rine’s instructions.
The two of them grunted as they pulled out the iron stake, moved it a good distance in the opposite direction from where I had pointed, and drove it back in.
At that moment, the unpleasant tingling that had been tormenting my fingertips vanished as if washed away.
The air around us settled comfortably, like a clogged drain had been cleared.
The ominous distortion I had felt had been completely resolved.
I heard later that after I left, Erka came to inspect the barrier in the plaza,
and upon seeing the changed position of the stake, she gave a curt nod.
If it had remained in its original position, it would have collided with the magic circle of an adjacent faculty and caused more than thirty percent of the Sacred Faculty’s healing power to be absorbed,
but someone had exquisitely moved the stake outside the interference zone.
Of course, that was a matter for later. Right now, Rine stood before me, dusting off the dirt with a smile.
Still feeling dazed, I asked her,
“You… really believed what I said and moved it?”
At my question, Rine smiled quietly, yet with deep meaning.
“When Yulian says something like that, I’ve found that it usually shouldn’t be ignored.”
In her eyes shone a trust in me so firm it was almost blind.
It seemed the memories of how I had miraculously evaded countless deadly traps during the midterm practical evaluation
had imprinted me in her heart as some sort of special existence.
My breath caught in my throat.
‘Was trust always this harmful to survival?’
For someone else to trust me meant that the responsibilities and expectations I had to shoulder would increase.
The luxury an extra needed least was precisely this heavy trust.
I fell into deep despair and closed my mouth.
I didn’t know how Rine interpreted my miserable expression,
but she brought a small basket from inside the healing booth and placed it in my arms.
Inside the basket were no fewer than three bottles of the same liquid recovery meal I had drunk earlier.
I looked down at the bottles with a horrified expression.
“This… I’m supposed to take one a day?”
At my hope-tinged question, Rine replied with the most benevolent and beautiful smile in the world.
“One per meal.
Breakfast, lunch, and dinner. You mustn’t forget to take them all.”
“…But in the morning, I already eat the nutritional meal you give m—”
“That’s separate.”
Her answer contained not the slightest hesitation.
It was a firm prescription.
It meant my stomach would have to forcibly digest this unidentified lump of medicinal herbs three times a day.
And on top of that, for breakfast,
an already unidentified nutritional meal would be added as well.
Looking down at the heavy basket in my arms,
I felt cold sweat run down my spine once again.
‘What’s scarier than monsters is the goodwill of a saintess candidate.’
Holding the basket containing the three bottles of recovery meal I had received from Rine,
I crossed the central plaza, which was buzzing with the fervor of the festival, and headed toward the dormitory.
With each step I took, the weight of the basket pressing through my arms bore down on my frail body.
Unable to properly support even the pitiful mass of my upper body, my knee joints threatened to buckle inward.
‘This is truly the limit.’
The survival circuit in my head was noisily flashing red warning lights.
The physical labor at the back gate, Nadia’s hell of paperwork, Erka’s analysis room torture, and the inspection of the Sacred Faculty booth that had just ended.
I had already far exceeded the daily operating hours allotted to an extra.
What I needed right now was not the recovery meal filled with Rine’s goodwill,
but a forced shutdown in the corner of a room where no sound or light could reach.
Somehow, I avoided the crowds and moved forward, hiding myself in the shadows of buildings.
The more the brilliant curtain of the festival fell over the plaza, the darker and more shabby my own shadow seemed.
To the west of the plaza, I could see in the distance the outdoor maze installation area managed by the Scouting Faculty.
Planks and temporary walls were grotesquely tangled together, forming the bones of a labyrinth.
‘I should never go there.’
The maze was a device used only on the day of the festival.
Right now, they were merely in the stage of setting up wooden temporary walls, so there should have been no need for me to intervene.
Keeping my gaze lowered to the ground, I chose the farthest detour.
But the safe route my survival instinct had detected was mercilessly blocked by the presence of a familiar beast.
“Senior.”
A gray tail suddenly popped out from around the corner of a wall and tapped my thigh.
I knew who it was without even lifting my head.
Mia Ren stood blocking my path, her nose twitching.
Her pointed ears were pressed back far more sensitively than usual,
and her unfocused eyes were fixed on the maze area.
“…Mia, I really feel like I’m going to die right now.
Until I drink all of this stuff Rine gave me, I can’t move another step.”
“Senior, the scent has lost its way.”
Mia lightly ignored my feeble complaint and blurted out something out of nowhere.
She lifted her nose into the air and took a deep breath, then frowned.
“Scents can lose their way? What kind of nonsense is that?”
“Yeah. That’s what’s happening right now. The scents gather in one place, then suddenly cut off.
Something is going wrong in there.”
Mia grabbed my sleeve tightly.
The beastkin’s distinctive grip pressed down on the blood vessels and nerves beneath my thin skin.
With no strength left to resist, I was dragged along by her hand like a broken doll toward the Scouting Faculty’s maze area.
At the entrance of the maze stood Rowen Grass, holding a large parchment map spread open.
He was pointing here and there on the map with a quill as he sharply gave instructions to the students around him.
“Connect this to detour route three, and add one more dead end at the central fork.
The participants need to wander around in here for at least fifteen minutes.”
Rowen’s voice carried strong pride in his own design.
As soon as he saw us, he rolled up the map and approached.
“Yulian? What brings you to the Scouting Faculty’s area?
Don’t tell me you’ve come to nitpick my maze design, too.”
“I didn’t come because I wanted to.
She said her nose was malfunctioning, so I only came to check.”
I shook my head as if I found it annoying.
But the moment I glanced at Rowen’s map, the edge of my vision briefly crackled.
It felt as though noise had intruded upon the screen called reality.
An unpleasant shiver rose like needles between the folds of my brain.
“Rowen, about this map. This path leading from the center to the entrance—isn’t it too efficient?”
I pointed to one spot on the map.
It was the shortest escape route Rowen had proudly designed.
A hidden shortcut he had intentionally made for participants who might feel fear after being trapped in the maze.
Pushing up the frame of his glasses, Rowen answered firmly.
“It’s perfect on the map. Considering the positions of the entrance, exit, and emergency exit, it’s the most natural route.
Even if an accident happens, people can get out of the plaza through this path without congestion.”
“Why does the phrase ‘natural on the map’ sound so ominous?”
I swallowed dryly and examined the inside of the maze.
It was just as Mia had said.
The air inside the maze was strangely stagnant.
I searched through my knowledge of the original work.
On the day of the festival, this central plaza would become a scene of chaos.
People would flee while screaming, and instinctively, they would rush in groups toward the widest, fastest path.
But the shortcut Rowen had designed was too attractive.
The image flashed through my mind like an afterimage—hundreds of terrified people rushing into this narrow alley at the same time when an explosion or attack occurred.
A bottleneck.
When people panic and flee, they all end up swarming in the same direction.
On the map, it was a quick escape route, but when an actual crowd moved, that place would become not an exit, but a massive route to being crushed to death.
“Can’t we get rid of this shortcut? Just block it off completely and reroute people somewhere else.”
“What are you talking about? Then the maze’s difficulty becomes strange.
If the participants are trapped for too long, that’ll become a complaint, too.
Using the terrain and structures available, this is the most optimal layout.”
Rowen rejected my suggestion outright.
He was still seeing the world only through the numbers on his parchment.
But Erka, who had been watching from the side, had at some point come closer and begun scanning the flow of mana through the maze.
“Yulian has a point. The flow of the temporary barrier is excessively concentrated in this section.
If a shock wave comes from the plaza’s direction, these temporary walls won’t hold and will collapse inward.”
Once Erka’s analysis was added, Rowen’s face trembled faintly.
It seemed he had recalled how he had avoided a trap during the previous mock training thanks to my sudden meddling.
Biting his lip, he looked down at the map again.
“…Really? You think it’ll be dangerous if people gather here?”
“Well, I’m just saying it because it scares me.
There’s nothing more horrifying than a crowd packed into a narrow space.”
I gave a suitable excuse and avoided his gaze.
Rowen pondered for quite some time, then finally let out a sigh and instructed the students around him to make changes.
“Fine. Shortcut two will be closed. Instead, put up one more temporary wall there,
and reroute the flow of traffic in a longer detour toward the northern outskirts of the plaza.
The difficulty will go up a little… but safety comes first.”
Watching the temporary walls being moved and the structure of the maze being twisted,
I finally felt the pressure crushing my chest ease a little.
I had not prevented a major incident.
I had not defused a bomb.
But on the day of the festival, amid the chaos of the plaza, I had erased one possibility that dozens of lives would be trapped in a narrow alley and scream.
By the time the work was finished, Rowen marked a large X on the map and turned back to me.
“You really do have a talent for seeing paths that aren’t on the map.
No, rather than paths, is it that you only find the holes where accidents will happen?”
“If I have that kind of talent, I’d like to return it.
I want to live comfortably like everyone else, trusting only the map.”
Adjusting my grip on the basket, I answered bitterly.
Dusk was now settling over the plaza.
The students were still laughing and chatting as they raised tents, but beyond the bones of that dazzling maze, I saw the darkness that was to come.
‘I’ll probably think I’ve somehow found everything up until the eve of the festival preparations.’
But my danger sense still did not stop.
An extra’s survival was only just beginning.
Dragging my heavy legs, I headed toward the dormitory, the only save point, before Rine’s recovery meals could cool.
The maze’s shadow stretched long and followed at my feet.
Rowen’s grumbling grew distant, and I was alone again.
What kind of record would be engraved beside my name tomorrow?
My stomach chilled again.
The curtain had already risen on the festival, and I had to prepare the most unsightly struggle upon that stage.
I only wished that, at least until the moment I lay down on the bed in my room, this wretched sense would quiet down.
Leaning on the cold stone wall at the dormitory entrance, I wrung out the last of my energy for the day and climbed the stairs.
When I opened the door to the room at the end of the corridor, the familiar smell of dust greeted me.
I sank straight down onto the floor and set the basket in my arms down.
The three bottles of recovery meal clattered with an ominous sound.
My survival was still as precarious as a number written in a ledger whose ink had yet to dry.