"Let's go."
Denken took the lead into that bottomless darkness, with Richter and Laufen close behind.
Ren trailed at the rear, his hand instinctively resting on the hilts of the twin swords at his waist.
The interior of the tomb was a long staircase descending straight down. Magical lamps set into the walls barely lit the way ahead.
"Stay sharp," Denken warned as he checked for traps. "Ancient tombs like this are usually packed with them."
They advanced for a while—then a swarm of gargoyle-like constructs surged out, stone bodies with bat wings and horned heads.
Ren sprang forward. He planted a foot against a huge stone fist swinging at him, using the momentum to launch himself upward.
Twisting midair, he brought his right leg down like an axe, carrying crushing force as it slammed into the neck of the first construct.
Crack!
A massive stone head went flying, tumbling through the air before smashing onto the floor.
The headless body toppled with a thunderous crash, collapsing into scattered rubble.
"Well done." Denken smiled and nodded. "Looks like our team has a rather extraordinary warrior hiding among us."
"Ah!"
But almost immediately, a trap triggered—Leg was separated from them, sealed behind the wall.
Ren drew a sword and struck the wall first. It did nothing.
He called out at once, "Hey—break the bottle and get out. Staying alive matters more."
A moment later, the escape golem burst through the wall, scooped Leg up, and carried her back toward the labyrinth's exit.
"That golem is so strong…" Laufen breathed in amazement.
"To lose someone this early…" Denken sighed, clearly regretful.
"Let's keep moving," Ren said, and the group pressed on.
Suddenly, both Ren and Denken tensed at the same time, their eyes snapping toward the same direction.
Tap… tap… tap…
Clear footsteps echoed from the darkness ahead.
Then a figure slowly emerged.
She wore a high-slit dress, had her hair tied into a cute bun, and sported playful side-swept bangs—
And her face was identical to Laufen's.
The moment they saw her, everyone froze.
Laufen clapped a hand over her mouth, eyes wide with shock. "T-that… that's… me?"
The "Laufen" copy raised a hand to attack—
Only for Denken to erase her instantly with a beam of magic.
"I've never seen a replica with such perfect fidelity," Denken said grimly. "From here on out, be even more careful."
He led them onward.
Ren followed more slowly.
Because further ahead… they'd run into Frieren's replica.
And with his current strength, Ren wasn't confident he could fight Frieren head-on. Waiting for the real Frieren and Fern to arrive was the smarter play.
After they passed through a massive stone gate, an oppressive wave of mana rolled toward them from the hall ahead.
The mana felt ancient, vast, and strangely languid—calm in a way that made it even more terrifying.
Not far away, a small figure stood silently at the center of the chamber.
Silver-white hair.
Pointed ears.
A staff held in her hand like it was part of her.
It was Frieren.
But the light in her eyes was gone—empty, hollow. The mana around her was so dense it was nearly tangible.
"Everyone—stop." Denken's voice turned razor-sharp. He raised his staff defensively, cold sweat beading on his forehead. "I really want to smash my bottle and run."
"You're kidding…" Richter sucked in a breath, staring at the Frieren replica. "We're supposed to fight a monster like that?"
The replica lifted her staff slightly.
In an instant, the mana in the entire hall was forcibly siphoned away.
Countless tiny magic circles unfolded in the air—layer upon layer, densely packed.
"Run!" Denken barked, already turning.
No one hesitated. They spun and bolted out through the doorway.
BOOOOM—!
A deafening explosion thundered behind them.
They ran until the crushing pressure of that mana finally weakened, then stopped—gasping.
Denken braced a hand against the wall, breathing hard. He looked at Ren, eyes narrowing with suspicion. "Ren… you seem like you already knew what we'd find."
"Just a bad feeling," Ren said calmly, leaning against the stone. "My instincts said it would be dangerous."
Right then, footsteps sounded from another passage.
The real Frieren and Fern emerged.
"Now we wait for them to deal with that thing," Ren said.
Knowing exactly how this was supposed to go, he simply sat down in a corner and did nothing.
After a brief rest, everyone except Ren returned to the hall entrance.
Frieren and Fern stepped in side by side.
A terrifying torrent of mana exploded through the chamber.
...
Not long after, the battle inside was nearing its end.
They pushed the door open—
And saw Frieren tending to an unconscious Fern.
Fern's robe was badly torn. Her staff was gone. She'd clearly pushed herself to the brink.
"We won?!" Laufen cried out, delighted.
"Mm." Frieren lowered her staff, looking faintly exhausted.
Just as everyone finally let out a breath—
Ren's skin prickled. Every hair on his body stood on end.
The next instant, a pitch-black streak plunged down from the ceiling shadows at a speed too fast for the eye to track.
Its target was Laufen—unguarded, about to cheer.
"Look out!"
The stone tile beneath Ren shattered.
A blurred afterimage was all he left behind.
CLANG—!
Twin blades crossed. Sparks burst outward.
Ren intercepted the shadow.
It was a man wielding twin swords.
He wore the exact same outfit as Ren.
Even the presence he gave off—identical.
Ren's replica.
"Another damn headache," Denken muttered, frowning.
The replica twisted in midair and landed in a roll—no pause, no reset.
With a tap of his toes, he became a gale rushing in again.
Ren drew in a deep breath, his eyes flashing with a hard edge.
"Fine," he snarled. "I'll play to the end!"
The air seemed to split.
Ren's blades and the replica's blades collided again and again in a frenzy—dense impacts chaining together like a hundred hammers striking at once.
Among everyone present, aside from Frieren, no one could even see their movements clearly.
Laufen raised her staff to help, only to realize her eyes couldn't track those two ghostlike figures at all. She tried to move closer.
"Don't interfere." Denken grabbed her, voice heavy. "At this level of close-quarters combat, we'd be shredded the moment we step in."
BOOM!
Ren and the replica clashed in a heavy downward strike.
The shockwave caved the floor beneath both of them, spiderweb cracks racing outward.
Ren slipped sideways, narrowly evading a sweeping slash, then drove a knee hard into the replica's abdomen.
The replica didn't dodge.
He took it head-on—then snapped his right-hand sword upward at a twisted angle, aiming for Ren's throat.
A suicidal trade.
Ren jerked his head back in time.
The blade skimmed past the tip of his nose, the cold wind it carried slicing off a few stray strands of hair from his fringe.
"Frieren!" Ren shouted without even looking back. "Are you seriously just watching? Do you want to pass this exam or not?!"
Only then did Frieren raise her staff.
Mana gathered at the tip at terrifying speed.
Several black bolts tore through the air, sealing off the replica's escape route.