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Chapter 50: Ten by Ten

Zane’s progress sped up tremendously after his little discovery. It seemed that the person responsible for designing the maze had created a set of rules, and rigidly stuck by them. There were never any traps within ten feet of an archway, and the spike pits were always the same dimensions.

It would have been easy for them to rig a flame trap to toast anyone who tried to jump between the pits. But they didn't, because that would have broken the rules. And they very much liked their little rules.

As the rogue cultivator hopped down the corridor, traveling from safe spot to safe spot, he found himself beginning to understand the design language of the maze. The architect had laid it out on a grid, with each trap taking up a ten foot square.

The long rows of pits were designed to ensure that anyone who came across them ran out of luck or Essence before they could reach the end of the corridor. The flame traps on the ceiling were there to prevent people from bypassing the pits. Meanwhile, the spinning blades set into the walls sliced and diced anyone who was too busy looking down to avoid them.

But they were all set into that same ten by ten grid, so Zane merrily hopped his way through the maze, avoiding all of them. He had expected to run into spirit beasts, but apparently the traps had taken care of them. Which was both stupid, and brilliant.

Brilliant because nobody could use an ability to pretend to be a spirit beast, and thus bypass the traps. But also stupid because the lack of enemies made it relatively easy for Zane to count the squares and hop from safe spot to safe spot. The only variation came when he passed through an archway and it didn't close behind him.

Zane stopped to examine the corridor. It looked identical to all the others. But something about his budding understanding of the architect’s mind stopped him from moving forward. It's probably a dead end, or some new kind of trap, he thought, Why else would they leave an exit open?

He turned around and went the other direction, continuing to avoid traps as he went. Eventually boredom set in, which almost led to a few resets as his mind wandered. But he was able to heal up and continue.

When he stopped to meditate and refill his core, Zane made another discovery. As he went deeper and deeper into the maze, the Essence in the air was getting thicker. The next time he came to a junction, Zane meditated for a moment, then went towards the higher concentration of Essence.

“This would have been something useful to know back at the beginning, Groucho,” Zane grumbled as he walked. Eventually he came to a wide open chamber that reminded him of an arena. In the middle of the room was a brass dome, which he figured was probably the shrine.

Fucking finally! the rogue cultivator thought as he passed through the archway. But he didn't leave the safety of the entrance. If the architect had stuck to his own rules, there would be no traps on the ten by ten section of tiles near the archway.

Zane examined the chamber. It was round, with a thirty foot high ceiling and a series of grooves cut into the floor. They expanded out from the dome in the center at regular intervals and looked to be about ten feet deep. The grooves had sides that were sloped inward like a bowl, and were twenty feet wide from crest to crest.

If the arena followed the same pattern as the maze, there would be flame traps on the ceiling, and pit traps on the floor waiting to impale him. He took a step to the side, then teleported back to safety as the ground beneath him fell away.

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“Yep,” Zane said as he looked down into the spike pit, “You might be an asshole, but at least you're consistent.”

He turned to face the brass dome. It was ten feet tall, and surrounded by a wall of black spikes. They were ten feet tall, and came straight out of the ground. He couldn't see an entrance from where he was standing, but figured that it was probably on the far side of the dome.

Zane teleported to the thin strip of level ground between the grooves on the floor, and jumped up into the air as soon as he landed. But nothing happened.

He tapped the wall of the groove with his foot. It was slick except for a series of regularly spaced holes, but once again, nothing happened. He peered inside the nearest hole and saw the evil black point of a metal spike.

“Interesting,” Zane said as he stepped down into the groove, taking care not to walk over any of the hidden spikes. He walked towards the dome, fully expecting a trap to trigger at any moment.

Could they be broken? the rogue cultivator wondered as he made his way to the center of the room, And wasn't there supposed to be a Guardian?

He got his answer as a low hum filled the room and the brass dome started to spin. Then, as the hum reached its peak, the spikes surrounding the dome retracted.

“Ah,” said Zane as a twenty foot wide metal ball came hurtling towards him, “I think I found the guardian.”

***

It took him a few deaths to figure out the rules of the game. What he had taken to be a dome was really a metal construct. It rolled around the grooves in the floor at breakneck speed, trying to crush him. Whenever it moved to a new groove, spikes shot out of the floor to either side of it.

If he tried to jump over the spikes, flame traps in the ceiling triggered, roasting is sorry ass. But apparently he was allowed to jump over the construct, because it deactivated the traps below and above the groove it was currently in.

Zane watched the spinning ball of death whirl around the room from his little patch of safety near the entrance. The depression where it had originally sat was now filled with a forest of spikes.

Any attacks he made against the construct were deflected by its armor, which healed almost instantly. It also crushed anything he threw in its path.

“I hope you know that this is some world class bullshit!” he shouted to the unknown architect that had designed the room. Zane didn't know if they could hear him, but it felt good to vent his frustration.

Groucho had said that the constructs were meant to be avoided, not defeated. But Zane couldn't see anything that looked like an exit. He was also running out of time. Each death cost him another day, and he couldn't miss the cooking competition. Not unless he wanted to risk disappointing Pinky.

Zane decided to take a new approach. He tried to think like an asshole. To his surprise, it came quite naturally.

If I was the architect, what would be the absolute shittiest, most unfair way I could rig this thing, while technically allowing someone a chance to succeed?

His eyes went to the spinning ball of death as it rocketed around the chamber, unable to reach his little patch of safe ground. If I was a real bastard, I'd put the exit underneath the guardian, so that nobody could sneak past it.

Zane looked at the forest of spikes that rose from the center of the room. According to the rules as he understood them, the spikes would only retract if the guardian went back to its original position.

If Zane timed things right, and was incredibly lucky, it might be possible to jump onto the spikes as the guardian was returning. In an ideal world they would then retract, revealing the exit before the guardian crushed him.

Of course, if he tried to leap or teleport over the spikes, there were still flame traps to deal with. And the spikes were too densely packed for him to squeeze between them.

“You truly are a magnificent bastard,” Zane told the unknown architect as he prepared to make a run towards the exit.