Chapter 40: Shadows of Survival

He stared blankly at his trembling hands.

This trembling was not caused by a physical ailment.

His body was in perfect health, thanks to the medical ward’s meticulous restoration.

This was solely the result of mental fatigue.

It had been nearly two months since he last had a proper rest, and his mind was utterly exhausted.

The sapling in his chest exhaled sporadic bursts of energy, struggling to stay alive.

He had long grown accustomed to the dissonance between his body and mind.

The trembling hands were merely a minor side effect of that gap.

A faint, bitter smile escaped his lips.

‘Too much is as bad as too little,’ he thought.

It wasn’t just an old saying.

He hadn’t realized how much his ambition for points would end up weighing him down like this.

Of course, if he merely maintained the status quo, this ordeal would eventually end.

The lectures had been going on for two years; he only had three more to endure.

“By then, I’ll be free,” he murmured to himself.

Though, whether he could endure that long was another matter entirely.

Still, being outside for the first time in a while made his steps feel unusually light.

***

Last week came to mind—it was the ninth lecture by Professor Irien.

The treasure introduced this time was something called the “Twisted Grasp of Thought.”

It was said to be a fragment of a once-great spirit tree, left behind after its death.

Before the lecture, the professor had shown him the artifact.

The moment he laid eyes on it, he felt mesmerized, half-captured by its allure.

When he drew closer, a strange whisper filled his ears, clouding his mind.

In that haze, he could see a blade stabbing him—a blade that soon manifested into reality, plunging straight into his chest.

Had the professor not intervened, he was certain he would have died then and there.

Startled, he had staggered backward as the professor laughed heartily and withdrew the artifact.

The artifact, the professor explained, could manifest the user’s thoughts into reality.

While its power had limits, something as simple as killing a magician was no issue for it.

However, it was already corrupted, driving its wielder toward destruction.

“In every other sense,” the professor had said, “it’s a flawless treasure.”

***

When the lecture began, no one obtained the treasure this time either.

In fact, since the first lecture, when Jun had taken the “Box That Devours Space,” no one had succeeded in claiming a treasure.

While the professor’s designed environments played a role, the students’ mutual hostility was a bigger factor.

The magicians viewed each other as enemies.

Even alliances formed out of convenience fell apart quickly, as they turned on one another.

If word spread that someone was close to acquiring a treasure, every group would unite against them, dragging them down together.

This often resulted in the 24-hour limit expiring, ejecting everyone from the trial empty-handed.

This hostility did not subside over time.

After the lecture, an outright war had broken out.

Jun’s group had ambushed the Swordsmen during the trial, and in retaliation, the Swordsmen launched a massive attack on them right after the lecture ended.

In just one day, more than twenty people lost their limbs in the chaos.

***

The existence of the medical ward was a significant enabler of such reckless battles.

Since the second floor opened, anyone could visit the ward at any time.

“As long as they don’t kill each other, what’s the harm?”

From then on, their fights became increasingly brutal.

That war had only ended three days ago, when the Swordsmen blocked access to the medical ward, cutting down anyone who approached.

In the end, Jun surrendered.

‘It was unfortunate for him,’ he thought.

Jun had likely believed his forces were sufficient to challenge them.

But the Swordsmen were stronger than expected.

Of course, the aftermath was left for him to deal with, which had been an exhausting ordeal.

The professor, observing all this, had grumbled in frustration.

“I set up layers of traps to guard the treasures, but they’re too busy fighting each other to even reach them!”

The professor had never left her chambers, not once.

Whenever he went upstairs to recharge the housekeeper’s mana, she was always asleep.

Lately, she seemed to sleep even more deeply and frequently.

‘How I envy that kind of leisure,’ he thought bitterly.

He swore to himself, ‘One day, I’ll have that kind of ease.’

Glancing down at his feet, he noticed his shadow stretching out, dipping its arm into the flowing black river beside him.

It seemed almost at peace.

It was time to head back.

He raised his gaze to the looming black tower before him.

The more he learned about his shadow, the less he understood the tower.

Sometimes, he felt as though something within the shadow was watching him.

Pushing the thought aside, he stepped through the tower’s gate.

The darkness rippled, pulling him in.

Inside, countless shadows wandered aimlessly.

Weaving through them, he reached the tower’s center, where a black sphere floated mid-air, scattering shadows in every direction.

Several figures stood near the sphere, accompanied by shadows that mirrored their forms.

These were his fellow students.

One by one, they stepped into the sphere.

Following their lead, he moved forward.

As soon as he set foot in the sphere, his shadow surged up, enveloping him, while he sank into the ground, becoming a shadow himself.

This was how one moved within the shadow realm.

Myra had once explained, “If the living enter here, their bodies are seized almost instantly.”

The realm was like a maze of countless paths, with shadows writhing across walls, ceilings, and floors.

Carefully avoiding them, he navigated familiar routes.

Ahead, he saw others moving in the same direction.

At last, they reached a black pool, shimmering like a mirror.

His shadow dove into the pool.

In an instant, he and his shadow switched places, and he found himself standing in the lecture hall.

Many others had already arrived, claiming their seats.

Quietly, he headed to his usual spot in the corner.

Before long, the lecture began, and Myra emerged through the shadows.

Professor Heisen had not appeared since the first lecture.

Myra had taken over every class since then.

“Today’s test is survival,” she announced in her soft voice.

“The last one standing… will pass.”

***

As her words faded, darkness engulfed the lecture hall.

He felt himself blending with his shadow once more, sinking back into the shadow realm.

‘Survival, huh?’ he thought. ‘From what, exactly?’

But there was no need to wonder.

It was always the same—surviving the other students.

Every test was like this.

Through these trials, it became evident who the strongest students were.

Among them, one stood out above all: Baun.

Baun had claimed first place in every test.

Had there been no limit on repeat passes, no one else would have succeeded.

But his memory of Baun wasn’t just because of his strength.

“Hey, I’ll send you out quickly again today. Go take some rest.”

A shadow dropped swiftly in front of me, speaking with a casual tone.

It tore apart my shadow in an instant, as it always did.

He was the one who consistently targeted and eliminated my shadow first.

I was ejected from the world immediately.

The impact made my stomach churn.

When I opened my eyes, I was back in the lecture hall.

Quickly, I leaned over the desk to calm myself.

For a moment, I felt like I was going to lose my mind.

Already mentally exhausted, the shock I just experienced hit me hard.

“You’re 30 minutes earlier than last time, aren’t you…?”

A faint laugh came from the side.

I raised both hands slightly in mock surrender.

When I looked up, Myra was smiling at me.

“What can I do? I’m just too weak.”

I gave a bitter smile.

Every time, I was the first one eliminated.

Not just Baun, but everyone targeted me.

It was because every test awarded bonus points for taking someone out, and in their eyes, I was nothing more than a walking bundle of bonus points.

As a result, my shadow was always caught and torn apart like this.

Honestly, I was just glad it wasn’t my physical body.

My shadow had already recovered, wriggling as it reemerged in the lecture hall.

“Still… your shadow is such a cute little thing,” Myra said, poking at it.

I recalled the first time she had spoken to me, after the third trial.

She said she had been curious about my shadow.

She told me it was rare to see a shadow recover so quickly, though there wasn’t anything particularly extraordinary about it beyond that.

Since then, she would occasionally strike up a conversation like this.

“So… how did it go this time…?” she asked.

I shook my head.

This experiment had failed too.

I explained the results of my latest experiment calmly.

This time, I had tried to merge a doll with a shadow.

Each doll had its own shadow.

However, forcibly attaching a different shadow caused severe rejection—something I had learned from previous experiments.

The key was natural integration.

But the doll’s innate shadow was too weak, having no accumulated time or strength.

It wasn’t nearly enough to move the doll.

So, I restructured the circuits within the doll and created a massive shadow that could encase the doll’s magical core.

The goal was to craft a “shadow heart” atop the doll’s magical core.

At first, the experiment seemed promising.

The shadow covered the doll’s surface, merging as if it were an external skin.

The shadow moved in sync with the doll’s structure, as I had programmed it.

But then, the shadow began to reject the magic within the doll.

Unable to handle the doll’s magic, the shadow melted away.

The rejection intensified with every movement of the doll until the shadow dissipated entirely.

So, the attempt to overlay the shadow on the doll had failed.

It was time to move on to the next step.

I redesigned the circuits again, aiming for a structure that would allow the shadow to flow with the magic seamlessly.

This time, the shadow was integrated into the magic, acting as a part of its flow.

At first, it seemed successful.

The doll moved with minimal magic consumption, powered by the shadow.

But soon, the shadow clashed with the existing magical constructs within the doll, causing the circuits to collapse.

The result was catastrophic—magic and shadow separated violently, leading to the doll’s explosion.

This experiment had taken two months, but the results were dismal.

The shadow failed to harmonize with the doll’s magical flow, instead clashing and ultimately causing destruction.

Still, I learned something new: shadows had a remarkably autonomous nature.

Forcing a union only destabilized the doll.

The next experiments would have to focus on respecting the shadow’s autonomy while seeking a harmonious balance with my magic.

That would be the theme of my next trial.

When I finished recounting everything, Myra covered her mouth, giggling softly.

“Such… a cute problem,” she remarked.

All that time and effort I poured into my research, and to her, it was just something “cute.”

It left me feeling a bit deflated.

But perhaps that’s why I could open up to her so easily.

When it came to shadows, no one—not even Professor Heisen—was as knowledgeable as her.

Six months ago, when I first shared my struggles with her, I hadn’t expected much of a response.

It was more of a desperate, last-ditch attempt to get help.

Yet, she had been surprisingly kind and gave thoughtful answers.

Since then, after every three-month interval, I had begun seeking her advice whenever I was eliminated.

I had once asked why she helped me so much, despite having no reason to.

She had replied with a smile, “Because… I think you’ll end up in the same situation as me someday.”

Her words had been tinged with an unsettling mixture of joy and anticipation, warped by a faint, eerie undertone.

There was something damp and unpleasant in her emotions that sent a shiver down my spine.

Still, her advice had always been invaluable, and over the past year, I had come to rely on it.

This time was no different.

Myra tapped her lips lightly, thinking for a moment before speaking again.

“The research… was interesting. You can continue… in the same direction.”

So, my approach wasn’t entirely wrong.

I nodded, reassured.

That alone was a huge help.

“Try… delving deeper into the shadow world… It’ll be helpful,” she added before dissolving back into the shadows.

I took her words to heart, bowing deeply to her empty spot in gratitude.

Then, I collapsed onto my desk.

Until someone passed the trial, all students had to remain here.

It would likely be a while before this ended.

For now, I needed to rest to endure what lay ahead.

I quickly lost consciousness, falling into a deep sleep.