-Deleted Novel-

Hours later, I perched on top of one of the maze's colossal walls, clutching my latest "invention" with both awe and triumph. It was a makeshift torch—nothing fancy: just a brittle stick, a strip of cloth, and the extraordinary blood of a lizard-hybrid creature I had encountered earlier. I couldn't help but replay the moment of its discovery in my mind.

While scavenging through the remains of an adventurer's camp, I had been caught off guard by those lizard-hybrid creatures. They ambushed me as I rifled through the corpses and scattered belongings, their shrill screeches blending with the crackle of a campfire nearby. The fight was desperate; claws and teeth against my blade and sheer survival instinct. Blood splattered across the dirt as I struck down the last of them. Panting and bruised, I leaned on my spear, the scene around me a chaotic blend of death and dim firelight.

That's when I saw it. Amidst the chaos, droplets of blood sprayed from one of the creatures as I slashed at its neck, and a single drop landed in the campfire. The flame hissed and sputtered, and then, with a violent surge, it roared to life. I froze mid-motion, watching in awe as the flame devoured the air greedily, burning brighter and hotter than any campfire I'd seen before.

Could it be? The thought was wild, implausible, yet impossible to ignore. After my battle, I returned to the fire. I crouched low, collecting a shard of bone smeared with the lizard-human-hybrid's blood. With trembling fingers, I tossed it into the fire. The reaction was instant. The fire surged, leaping and dancing, its heat so intense it forced me back a step. My exhaustion and bruises momentarily forgotten, I scrambled to repeat the process, testing blood-stained fragments one by one. Each piece elicited the same reaction, confirming my suspicion.

This blood wasn't just flammable—it was extraordinary fuel. For the first time in days, I felt a flicker of triumph. My discovery wasn't just an accident of desperation; it was a breakthrough that could change everything.

Now, as I held the torch aloft, the flames sputtered and hissed, their flickering light casting wild shadows against the unyielding stone walls of the maze. Those shadows didn't feel menacing anymore. They felt like the first flickers of hope—hope that this maze might finally have a way out if I could harness this discovery.

I soon became lost in thought, my mind circling back to the people I'd left behind on Earth. My family, my friends, my quiet life—it all felt like a dream fading into the static hum of this maze. Questions swirled in my head: Had time stopped back on Earth? Would it resume once this trial ended? Or was everyone there waking up one by one as contestants were eliminated, their memories wiped clean of this place? The weight of it made my chest tighten, and for a moment, I wondered if I'd ever see them again.

My hand slipped into my pocket, fingers brushing the cold, smooth surface of the shiny metallic ticket I'd found earlier. I pulled it out and held it under the faint moonlight. The word "EXIT" gleamed at me in bold letters, reflecting my warped face in its polished metal. What did it mean, really? A way out? Or a trap? Maybe even an end far worse than anything here. The thought made me shudder, and I slipped the ticket back into my pocket with a sigh. No answers, just more questions.

I kept walking, each step purposeful despite the futility gnawing at me. The night had yielded no treasure chests, yet the sting of disappointment was easier to shrug off this time. "Tomorrow's another chance," I murmured to myself, the words barely audible over the distant hum of the maze's eerie silence.

Then I saw it. Something unusual caught my eye, stopping me mid-step. Ahead, where the maze's walls usually defined the narrow, oppressive paths, was a strange anomaly—a small area completely enclosed on all sides by towering walls. I blinked, rubbing my eyes to make sure I wasn't hallucinating. It was bizarre, the kind of space no one would ever notice unless they happened to look down from above or accidentally smash through the right section of the wall. What made it even stranger was the ceiling—a solid stone slab, sealing the space off entirely.

My curiosity flared, and before I could think twice, I sprang into action. I leapt from wall to wall, my movements instinctive and quick as I navigated the maze's heights. From the outer edge, I peered into the enclosed space. Barren. Empty. And somehow, even more intriguing for it.

"What are you hiding?" I muttered, already climbing down. My fingers brushed the ceiling as I inspected it. The texture and material—mud and stone—were identical to the maze's walls. Familiar, yet frustratingly unyielding.

"Okay, Subra," he said to himself, pacing along the edge of the wall. "Step one: figure out what's in there. Step two: break in. Step three: hope it's not wolves or some eldritch monstrosity."

I started with my bare hands, clawing at the ceiling like some kind of desperate animal. The result? Raw, throbbing fingers and a growing sense of indignation. "Okay, Ceiling," I muttered, shaking my sore hands, "you win this round. But don't get too comfortable."

Next, I grabbed a sharp stone from my pack and gave it a triumphant twirl—only to drop it. The rock clattered onto my foot, and I bit back a curse. "Well, if I were a caveman, this would be revolutionary," I said, wincing. Once I recovered, I swung the stone at the ceiling with all my might. Three strikes in, the stone split clean in two, leaving a faint scratch on the surface. I sighed, holding the broken tool in my hand. "Brilliant. Let's attack the impenetrable ceiling with pebbles. Genius, Subra."

Not one to give up, I fashioned a crude pickaxe using a monster fang and a sturdy stick tied together with vines. The monstrosity looked more like an art project gone wrong than a tool, but I was optimistic. "Well, if this doesn't work, it'll make a great prop for a play about incompetent adventurers," I joked to myself. My first swing felt promising, but by the third, the fang cracked and sent vibrations straight up my arm. "Ow! Genius hurts, apparently."

Then came the Wind Blade spell. I figured if brute force wouldn't work, maybe precision could. With a deep breath, I summoned the blade and aimed it at the ceiling. The shimmering gust struck the surface with a satisfying whump!... and left a small hole and a faint streak of dust in its wake. "Oh, come on!" I groaned, throwing my arms up. "What's this stuff made of? Plot armor?"

By now, my patience was wearing thin. I grabbed my makeshift torch. "Fire solves everything," I muttered, holding it aloft like some heroic figure from a low-budget adventure movie. I pressed the flame against the ceiling, waiting for the magic to happen. Five minutes later, the only thing I had achieved was covering my hands in soot and making the place smell like burnt moss. "Congratulations, Ceiling. You're officially fireproof."

Frustrated and out of ideas, I dropped onto the ground in defeat, staring up at the unyielding stone. "Okay, think, Subra. You're a genius. A problem-solver. A… guy stuck in a maze trying to dig through the indestructible ceiling." I yanked out my notebook and began jotting down increasingly wild ideas.

Tools to Build:

Chisel and Hammer – Requires: sharp stones, sturdy wood, and vines for binding. Likelihood of success: Maybe 5%.Acid Erosion – Find acid from maze monsters or plants. Might need gloves. Note: Do not test on self.Fire Hardening – Requires more intense heat. Find something that burns hotter than monster blood.Explosives – Sulfur from who-knows-where, charcoal, and nitrate (good luck, future me). Or perhaps... lizard-human-hybrid blood? If its reaction to fire can fuel intense flames, maybe it could serve as a component for explosive ignition. Would need to test for stability first. Note: do not attempt until at least one backup plan exists.Rotating Drill – Materials TBD. Step one: invent power tools. Step two: profit.

I leaned back, tapping the pen against my temple. "Explosives could work," I mused aloud. "Step one: find sulfur. Step two: try not to blow myself up. Step three: hope I don't bring the whole maze down."

As my brain swam with half-baked engineering marvels, I realized the futility of my situation. "So many ideas," I sighed, snapping the notebook shut. "So little sanity."

As he was jotting down another half-baked scheme, the sound of footsteps broke his concentration.

Subra froze. The sound was very quiet—so faint that an ordinary person might not have noticed it unless they were actively listening. But Subra's senses, sharpened by focus, caught the deliberate tread of boots on stone, growing louder with each passing second. He stuffed his notebook into his pocket and dropped his bag of raw materials, gripping his spear tightly as he assumed a defensive stance. His training kicked in as he closed his eyes, focusing on the sound. Six individuals, moving with precision. They were walking along the walls, surrounding him from all sides.

"Who are you?" Subra called out, his voice steady but firm. He turned in a slow circle, his senses heightened.

A female voice answered from behind him, low and commanding. "I have no need to tell someone like you."

Subra spun to face the source of the voice, his spear ready. The faint moonlight illuminated a hooded figure standing atop the wall, her outline sharp against the night sky. Subra replied, "I mean no harm! I just... just lost my way and somehow ended up here. I am just a weak human, I can do no harm."

Before he could say more, a dagger hurtled toward him, slicing through the air. He narrowly dodged it, the blade grazing his side as it embedded itself into the ground behind him.

"You don't seem like a weak human to me," the figure said, her voice tinged with sarcasm as she began descending the wall. Her movements were smooth and deliberate, her disdainful smirk almost visible through the darkness.

Subra's irritation flared. "Are you insane? Are you really trying to kill me? Shouldn't we humans stick together to complete this trial? Why are you doing this?"

The hooded figure laughed, a cold, mocking sound. "A human?" she repeated, her tone dripping with scorn. The figures surrounding him joined in, their laughter echoing eerily. Subra's grip on his spear tightened as confusion swept over him.

"Don't dare compare the likes of us to you filthy, disgusting humans," the woman sneered. Subra quickly picked up the torch he had dropped on the ground and hurled it towards the hooded figure. The torch landed on the ground in front of her, its flames casting flickering light across her form. She stepped forward, her movements deliberate, and removed her hood with a fluid motion. As the fabric fell away, the torchlight danced across her features, revealing what Subra could hardly process. Her ears tapered to sharp points, her skin emitted a faint, almost otherworldly glow, and her eyes—those molten golden eyes—seemed to pierce straight through him. For a moment, his mind refused to accept what he was seeing. This couldn't be real. It didn't make sense.

Subra's grip on his spear faltered, and he simply stared, disbelief and confusion etched across his face.

It was an Elf…

-To Be Continued-