Chapter 88

The teleport brought us back to the amphitheater where the participants had gathered. About fifty people remained, including me and Themis.

- "What happens now, Fi?"

- "Enough with the 'Fi'! Even my parents don’t call me that!"

- "Should I just call you 'Goddess of Justice' then? For now, 'Fi' will do."

- "Ugh, screw you, Sad—" I shut her mouth before it was too late.

- "You probably didn’t get it, so let me explain. You will never address me by my name—at least not until the trial is over. And I forbid you to tell anyone about my magic abilities. I’d rather kill you and fail the trial than let my combat potential become known. Understood?"

- "...Yeah. Are you hiding from someone?"

- "...No. It’s just that after the trial, there will be those who’ll find it strange that two kids managed to pass it. As long as we don’t attack them, they won’t know our names, and that suits me just fine." Lying smoothly on the spot was hard. I couldn’t exactly say, "A couple of gods are looking for me here."

- "Alright."

Ugh, that sly look of Fi’s. As usual, she understood far more than she let on. She was incredibly smart for a kid her age—her ability to analyze information surpassed all reasonable limits. I’d call it deep situational analysis, the opposite of my stream-of-consciousness thinking. Our brain resource usage at near-maximum capacity followed different principles. She had already figured out that I could cast spells at an insane speed and that my mana reserves were practically bottomless compared to an ordinary mage.

Yesterday’s host stepped forward.

- "Everyone except Group Four is dismissed. Return to this bar in a week—you’ll receive instructions for the trial’s final stage."

Once the other participants left, only five of us remained. Oh, what lovely company we had. That clothing style and way of moving… I’d seen it before. Professional assassins!

- "Dear candidates! Your trial begins today. Within a week, you must eliminate the entire undead leadership near the dwarven foothills. That means killing all the raid bosses and those pulling their strings. Succeed, and you’ll become Hunters."

Were they out of their minds?! Even fifty people would struggle with those bosses, and there were only five of us.

- "Mister, what happens if we die during the trial? Is it group-based or individual?"

- "Group-based. If you, little miss, die—" The host smirked. "—but your companions complete the task, the whole team becomes Hunters."

- "Do we have to act as a team, or can we split up?"

- "As you prefer. But you are forbidden to leave this room before the operation begins or disclose trial details to other participants. If you die, you’ll be teleported back here and remain until the end."

- "Thank you."

- "If there are no further questions, you’re free to go. One judge will be on duty in the admin room. Approach them when you’re ready for deployment."

Alright, I needed to talk to Fi. Where was our party chat?

"Fi, two options: either we head to the field now, find a quiet spot, and rest—or we rest here first, then go into battle."

"You’re right, we need rest. Better to rest here—less chance of spawning next to a raid boss when logging back in. But there’s a problem with these guys. Look, they’re waiting for our decision. We don’t know the enemy’s strength—their help might be necessary. At least coordinate with them."

"Got it. Let’s talk now."

And sure enough, the guys were just standing there, watching.

- "We’ll return in 24 hours. We need rest and some prep time." They simply nodded and logged out.

- "Fi, I’m logging off. I’ll be back in twenty hours. We’ll discuss the plan—figure out how to beat the enemy."

I desperately needed rest. Almost fifty hours had passed—any longer, and I’d black out.

The new orphanage had a medical pod where I spent all my time. Every power demanded sacrifice. My stream-of-consciousness thinking strained my brain—nerve cells wore out fast. Full recovery was impossible. How do you just stop thinking? So I had to rely on the personal med-pod just to stay functional.

Funny… I was dying, and I knew it, but I wasn’t afraid. I just wanted to see my parents again. Nothing in the real world mattered more.

Two hundred thousand credits were automatically deducted from my anonymous account every month for the orphanage’s budget. If I died, those funds would keep it running for another year and a half. At least those kids would be happy for that long.