The obstacle course looked completely different the following day. Some obstacles were the same, like the stupid flying magical stones, but the rest were different. Bummer. I hoped that with my knowledge from the previous day, I would be able to kick Mahya’s butt, but it looked like I’d have to work just as hard.

After we registered, I swept into an exaggerated bow, one hand stretched grandly toward the starting platform. “Ladies first,” I offered with mock chivalry.

Mahya rolled her eyes and strode toward the starting point. I watched her like a hawk as she stepped onto the platform. Her knees bent under the sudden weight, but she recovered fast, straightening with a frown.

“Why didn’t you tell me about the pressure?” she asked telepathically, her tone sharp even through the mental link.

I shrugged. “What would be the fun in that?”

Her glare could’ve melted steel. “You’re an asshole.”

“Guilty as charged,” I replied, not even pretending to be sorry.

The first obstacle was a wall with protrusions. She hopped up and caught the first one with her hand, hanging from it for a second. As she reached for the second, the protrusion crumbled in her grip, and she dropped back to the ground. She jumped again, aiming for the next one, but came up short by about half a meter. Another jump, and she still didn’t make it.

“Skills don’t work?” she asked, narrowing her eyes as she landed.

“Nope,” I said, trying to inject an evil smirk into my mental tone.

Judging by the icy glare she threw my way, I nailed it.

She walked back a few meters, shaking out her arms like she was warming up for a sprint. Then she took off toward the wall, picked up speed, planted one foot against the surface, and launched herself upward. Her hand caught the next protrusion cleanly. From that point on, she swung her body from side to side like a pendulum, using the momentum to grab one protrusion after another. Her movements were quick and fluid, each swing lifting her a little higher, until she finally pulled herself up and over the top of the wall.

Hmm, excellent technique. I need to use it.

The next obstacle was a set of metal monkey bars, and she had to hop up to catch the first one. The moment her hand touched it, she let out a yelp and dropped straight into the water.

“What happened?” I asked as she dragged herself out, water dripping from her clothes.

She stuck her tongue out at me, then sent in a mocking tone, “What would be the fun in that?”

When she stuck out her tongue, all the spectators on the balconies burst out laughing. At least we were providing top-notch entertainment.

“Mahya sore loser,” Rue informed me.

“Yep,” I said, glancing at Mahya. She didn’t glare at Rue. Smart boy.

I used Mahya’s technique to climb the first wall, and it went off without an incident. At the top, I stretched out on my belly to catch my breath. Mahya stood below, arms crossed, and shot me a death glare but didn’t say a word.

The moment I touched the first monkey bar, I understood exactly what had happened to her. A jolt of electricity surged through my hand. Well, not exactly electricity. It was actually lightning, and it tickled. I grinned and made my way across the bars with ease, swinging smoothly from one to the next. By the time I landed on the other side, Mahya’s death glare intensified into something downright murderous.

Just for fun, now I stuck out my tongue.

This time, the spectators clapped while laughing.

The third obstacle was the flying stones. I managed to cross five of them without too much trouble, hopping from one to the next with decent rhythm. But the sixth stone had other ideas. It jerked upward with a sudden burst of force and launched me into the air like a broken spring. I flew up at least a meter before gravity kicked back in, and I swan-dived straight into the water. I even had time to let out a curse or two on the way down.

Mahya put on a pair of leather gloves and crossed the monkey bars without any trouble. Unfortunately, she also breezed through the flying stones. She hopped from one to the next so quickly that the stones didn’t even get a chance to act up. No jerks, no sudden jolts—just smooth, confident leaps that made it look easy.

Now, the spectators clapped in appreciation.

The next obstacle was a variation of one I had already faced. Instead of running along a beam while swinging logs tried to knock you into the water, this version required balancing on thin stilts that jutted out of the surface like narrow stepping poles with the aforementioned logs swinging at you. Of course, Mahya handled it without breaking a sweat. With her high Agility, she moved across the obstacle like a ballerina on a tightrope.

The obstacle that came after was something entirely different. At first glance, I couldn’t even figure out how it was supposed to work, or how anyone was meant to cross it. It was made of two long, thick tree trunks, standing upright and spaced about fifty meters apart. There were no handholds or a visible path, just open space between them.

Mahya stepped up and dove into the gap.

The moment she entered, her body began to spin in midair, thrown around like a ragdoll in a wind tunnel. Gusts of invisible force flung her from one end of the obstacle to the other. She fought hard, trying to control her movements, limbs flailing and twisting as she struggled against the chaos. It went on for at least ten minutes. An aerial wrestling match between her and whatever magical wind trap she’d flown into. She actually made it pretty far. But just five meters from the end, she suddenly froze midair, suspended for a second, then dropped straight into the water with a loud splash, and came out sputtering and cursing.

I hoped my wind affinity would give me an edge with that obstacle, even though magic didn’t work inside the course. Wishful thinking. The moment I stepped onto one of the floating stones, it vanished right out from under my foot. I barely had time to blink before I was falling. And, sadly, Mahya won.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

I trudged home, soaked, defeated, and more than a little morose. But somewhere along the way, I made a decision. The stupid obstacle course wasn’t going to beat me. I was going to beat it. Eventually. Besides, I liked éclairs too, so paying up the bet wasn’t exactly a punishment.

Attempt No. 3

First Run:

A new type of floating stones turned out to be my bane. This time, they were arranged in two parallel lines, forcing me to hop from side to side to cross the obstacle. They didn’t wink out, jerk, or pull any of the usual tricks. Instead, something much worse waited for me.

Huge wooden shurikens spun through the air, slicing across my path with alarming speed, aiming to knock me off balance or send me flying. I managed to duck, weave, and leap out of the way of the ones coming at me from the front and the sides. It felt like a deadly dance, one mistimed step away from a plunge. But without my mana sense working inside the course, I didn’t notice the one coming from behind. It caught me square in the back and knocked me clean off the stones.

Second Run:

I passed the shurikens, but the next obstacle was my new bane. It consisted of large, round platforms that suddenly shot upward at high speed. The goal was to jump off each one, dive through a floating hoop, and land on the next platform. Simple in theory, absolute chaos in practice.

The speed increased with every jump. I cleared the first two just fine, timing my launches with decent precision. But the third platform shot up so fast I completely overshot the hoop. There was no saving it. I swan-dived straight into the water.

Just for the fun of it, I spread my arms sideways, pulled off a double flip in midair like a professional Olympic diver, and landed with a splash worthy of a highlight reel. The spectators loved it. I got standing ovations from the balconies.

Sadly, Mahya also got taken out by the shurikens in the first round, so we were even on that front. But when it came to the hoops, she flew through them like a professional circus lion, smooth and flawless. That meant a second round of éclairs. This time, she wanted chocolate ones. Rue ate so many that he gave himself a stomachache.

Attempt No. 4

First Run & Second Run:

I dropped on the very first obstacle. Same monkey bars, but this time they were coated in a substance slicker than oil. Not fair. Mahya didn’t fare any better. She dropped too. Twice. Just like me.

We stuck around to watch and, to our utter dismay, saw six people make it across that greasy trap without slipping once.

Show-offs.

On the way home, Mahya threw her hands up. “That was ridiculous. Oil? Seriously? Who designs these things?”

“I’m convinced it’s someone with a personal grudge against us,” I said.

Rue trotted ahead a few steps, then looked back, tail wagging and tongue lolling in a wide doggy grin. “You both fall funny. Splash splash splash like baby fish.”

Mahya groaned and rubbed her face. “If he says ‘splash’ one more time, I’m feeding him only vegetables for a week.”

Rue’s ears flattened. “Rue sorry. Rue very sorry.”

Mahya chuckled and pointed a finger at him. “That’s what I thought.”

Attempt No. 5

First Run:

I made it about eighty percent of the way across, but wiped out again on the stupid floating stones. Same spot. Same disappearing stone. I was convinced they had a personal vendetta against me.

Mahya made it to the end and strutted away with thirty-seven mithril coins jingling in her pocket. She couldn’t shut up about it for twenty straight minutes.

I gave up my spot to another competitor, sat on the edge of the viewing platform, and listened to her gloat, sighing dramatically every few minutes. She didn't care. If anything, it only encouraged her.

Second Run:

I cleared the first five obstacles like a champ. Hopped across spinning discs, balanced my way through a swaying rope bridge with bursts of fire, dodged swinging hammers, slid under rotating blades, and even tiptoed across a narrow beam while gusts of wind tried to knock me off.

Then the Guidance tripped me.

Out of nowhere, my red light started blinking. I froze mid-step, confused and off balance.

“What the—” was all I managed before two massive padded balls came flying from opposite directions and slammed into me at the same time. The impact knocked the air out of my lungs and launched me backward into the water with a spectacular splash.

One ball clipped my arm at just the right angle to snap something. I surfaced, gasping and cradling it.

Mahya called from the sidelines, “You okay?”

I grimaced and spat out a mouthful of water. “Fine. Just slightly broken.”

Agility +1

I blinked at the notification hovering in front of me, then let out a breathless laugh and shook my head in disbelief.

“That’s nice,” I said, swiping the message away. “Even worth the broken arm.”

Mahya leaned over, eyeing me suspiciously. “What’s worth the arm?”

I turned to her, still smiling like an idiot. “I got one point added to Agility.”

She stared at me. “Seriously?”

“Yep,” I said with a Cheshire cat smile.

She went to register for another run. But this time, I came out on top. A giant swinging hammer caught her square in the side and sent her flying into the water. She surfaced with a scowl and a broken leg.

To celebrate my new point and Mahya clearing the course, we went to a restaurant. Al still didn’t resurface, so only the three of us went. Somebody in the guild recommended a restaurant to Mahya, and it was a winner, despite the fact that it took us almost two hours to find it. This world's allergy to signs was on a whole new level.

Inside, the entire restaurant was a spectacle. The floor was made of thick, clear glass, and beneath it, vibrant schools of fish darted between coral towers and glowing seaweed, creating a shimmering space of blues and greens. The walls were massive aquariums stretching from floor to ceiling, housing an assortment of otherworldly marine creatures. A serpent eel, the length of a canoe, twisted gracefully around a bed of living sponges. A cluster of jewel-eyed gliders, shaped like manta rays but trailing long, bioluminescent tails, hovered near the glass in slow, hypnotic motion, watching the patrons. Near the back, a shelled creature the size of a horse used fanlike limbs to filter feed through the water, surrounded by a cloud of tiny silver fry.

The ceiling, also made of glass, was covered in soft, dune-like mounds of golden sand. Every so often, something beneath the surface twitched or shifted. A flash of movement came from a translucent sand burrower or the ripple of a flat, disk-shaped creature resettling itself. The whole thing gave the surreal impression of dining at the bottom of a calm, magical ocean. Or, on a less calm note, of us being the fish in an aquarium put there for the fish’s enjoyment.

Elegant tables of dark, polished wood with inlays shaped like sea vines were spaced evenly across the room. Velvet-backed chairs matched the deep ocean tones, and chandeliers shaped like upside-down jellyfish spread soft blue light from above. Most of the patrons were dressed in refined attire, including gowns that shimmered in every color of the rainbow, as well as additional hues, high-collared coats embroidered with tiny pearls, and plenty of jewelry that glittered like a Christmas tree. Mahya and I were dressed in less fancy clothes, but I have to hand it to the locals. Nobody looked at us sideways or gave even the slightest hint of looking down on us.

The menu, unsurprisingly, was nothing but fish. Rue’s ears drooped when he realized there were no crabs to be found, despite his hopeful sniffing. Still, the dinner was amazing. We started with thin slices of smoked fin from some local, maybe shark, drizzled with citrusy foam and topped with seeds. That was followed by a seared moontrout. The picture of the fish made the name clear. It was round and white, with protrusions that looked like canyons on the moon. It came plated with crispy kelp threads and a creamy root mash that tasted faintly of ginger and brine.

The final course was a deep-sea lanternfish, grilled to perfection and served with a side of pickled coral buds that popped like bubbles in the mouth. The fish had big, scary teeth that had not been removed before cooking, and it was quite large, about dolphin size. When they brought it out, we startled at first, but then Mahya gave an evil smile and said, “I love eating nasty things. Turnabout is a holy mission.”

Rue grudgingly admitted the scary fish was “good… for not crab.”

Yeah, dinner was an enjoyable experience for all.