The wormhole spat Dahlia out like bones discarded from a feast, and before she knew it, she hit the smooth sandstone floor with a solid .

  Her ribs flared in protest as she tumbled to a stop. Muyang landed beside her in a crouch, his movements practiced, steady. Emilia wasn’t so lucky; she rolled into the base of a cracked sandstone pillar with a yelp, clutching at her elbow. A far cry from the impossibly overwhelming bug-slayer she’d been just seconds ago.

  As Dahlia groaned and pushed herself to her feet, using her hammer as a crutch, she glanced around and realised where she was. The sandstone chamber was familiar, but the familiarity didn’t bring any comfort. It was the foyer of the temple—the same one she’d entered the first day of the exam in the City of Feasts. Carved sandstone arches stretched overhead, their surfaces worn smooth by time and turmoil. A few firefly lanterns hung from the pillars, casting shaky light across the walls.

  Her pulse immediately quickened. There were others here apart from Team Dahlia.

  Otto stood with his back against a pillar, his expression hard and distant, still holding his rifle in his hands. Wisnu stood by an archway, arms crossed, her narrowed eyes flicking between everyone in the chamber—but they mostly lingered on Blaire. The mosquito-masked doctor sat in the middle of the chamber, legs kicked out as if this were all beneath her, a lazy smile tugging at her lips. Dahlia could practically the killing pressures thickening, as sharp and heavy as the air after a sandstorm; it didn’t help that Muyang and Emilia crawled to their feet seconds after and noticed Blaire as well, sending murderous glares her way.

  Dahlia didn’t get the chance to finish her thought. The sound of footsteps behind her drew her attention to the entrance of the temple. She whirled—as did everyone—to see two figures stepping into view, backlit by harsh sunlight outside the temple.

  She could only see their silhouettes, sunlight mightily fierce behind them as they were, but she’d recognise that bow and quiver held by the lady on the left anywhere.

  The Sun.

  And the man next to her… the Fool, maybe?

  “... Congratulations, survivors,” the Sun said, her voice bright and cutting. She clapped her hands once, and the sound echoed across the sandstone chamber like a hammer striking. “The first stage of the Hasharana Entrance Exam is over. All three Mutant-Classes have been slain.”

  Dahlia’s stomach twisted at the word . It was too sharp, too heavy. A bit too cheap as well. It pressed against her ribs like a weight she couldn’t shake, because she just realised that if there were only six of them here, it meant the other two hundred or so participants didn’t make it out of the fungi forest alive.

  Around her, she caught glimpses of the others’ reactions. Muyang grimaced as he leaned against his giant beetle helm, Otto narrowed his eyes at the Sun, while Emilia smiled proudly, her expression unreadable. Wisnu was all sharp edges, her glare still fixed squarely on Blaire. And Blaire… well, Blaire still looked like she didn’t care about any of it. She was the only one still seated on the ground, legs kicked out, head tilted back so she was staring straight up at the ceiling. That, more than anything, made Dahlia’s skin crawl.

  “There are three teams that passed,” the Sun continued, her gaze sweeping over them slowly. “Six of you in total. Let’s see…”

  Dahlia felt her breath catch as the Sun named them one by one.

  “The Pioneer from the Rampaging Hinterland Front, Heir of the Glasbrenner Household, Makers of Gigantitinia,” the Sun said, nodding at Otto, who didn’t so much as blink. “The Noble-Blood from the Attini Empire Front, Widow of the Beast of Ka’lan.” Wisnu inclined her head slightly, her jaw tight. “The Plagueplain Doctor from the Plagueplain Front, Exile of the Orphanage of Judgement,” Blaire didn’t even flinch, still lounging like she had nowhere better to be. “The Beetle Dancer from the Hellfire Caldera Front. Hello, Muyang. It’s been a while since I saw you.” Muyang gave a graceful bow, though he looked reluctant to acknowledge his fellow bug-slayer from the north. “The Cicada Musician from the Long March, Child of the Magician,” Emilia straightened, her chin lifting just a fraction. “And… Dahlia Sina of the Alshifa Undertown.”

  Her name hit like a pebble thrown into a still pond. Dahlia felt her pulse spike as all eyes turned to her. She could feel the of their gazes, and it made her throat tighten. Her palms were clammy, but she clenched them into fists, forcing herself to stand a little straighter.

  She nodded quickly, not trusting herself to speak.

  “... Yep. That’s six of you,” the Sun said, her smile turning almost wolfish. “Six who clawed your way through chaos and carnage to stand here. Most likely, that number will be whittled down a few more in stage two, but hey—that’s part of the fun. Anyway, you’ve all earned yourself a short break. It’ll be three weeks until the second stage of the exam begins. Use the time however you like. Rest, train, explore the city, whatever. We proctors need time to… verify a few things on our end.”

  “What about the points?” Otto’s voice sliced through the air like a blade. He didn’t look at the Sun as he spoke; his focus was still locked on Blaire, his words cold and clipped. “We killed the Mutant-Classes. It’d be a waste if—”

  “All three Mutant-Class carcasses will be butchered by a trusted chef of ours,” the Sun replied, unfazed. “Points will be split evenly among those who killed them. The bug meat will be delivered to your places of residency in a few days, so relax, kid. You’ll get your rewards soon enough.”

  Dahlia caught a flicker of irritation on Otto’s face as the Sun spoke, though he didn’t say anything more.

  “Nothing more you want to ask? Good,” the Sun said, clapping her hands again. “That settles it for the debriefing. If I have questions for any of you, I’d nab you in the middle of the night. See you back here in three weeks.”

  The floor shifted beneath Dahlia again before she could process what was happening.

  Wormholes opened under all of their feet, and her breath caught, her legs locked—and then she was falling again.

  As the participants yelped and dropped through the second set of wormholes, Jiayin let out a long, audible sigh—the kind that made even the air around her feel heavier.

  She was tired already.

  Without ceremony, she turned and walked outside the temple, then dropped at the very top of the sandstone staircase. She leaned back on her palms, her eyes drawn to the bazaar and city sprawled out before her. So early in the morning, the City of Feasts was absolutely alive with motion and noise, its labyrinthine streets crowded with merchants hawking wares, performers spinning stories in bursts of music and flame, and countless others just trying to carve out a life in the desert.

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  The heat clung to her skin like a second layer, but it wasn’t the sun making her mood sour.

  William stepped up beside her, his jacket catching the faint breeze as he lowered himself to the ground with an exaggerated groan.

  “You look like someone just told you the wine’s run out,” he said, propping his chin on his hand. His lopsided grin tugged at his lips, though his eyes flicked toward her with a trace of curiosity. “So? What do you think?”

  Jiayin didn’t answer right away. Instead, she tilted her head back, letting the sun glare against her closed eyelids.

  “... This year’s participants aren’t half-bad,” she said finally. “They’re all a little wack, but they’re decently strong”

  William snorted. “Never thought I’d ever hear ‘wack’ coming out of your mouth.”

  “But there’s that rumour around these streets, and those spider web murders a few weeks ago,” she murmured, staring in the direction of the distant alley, eyes narrowing. “You’re a murder mystery lover. Can you deduce who the murderer is?”

  William’s grin faded, replaced by a knowing look. “Ah. rumour.”

  Jiayin didn’t need to elaborate. “Apparently, of them are here,” she said, her voice dropping into a near growl. “We’ll have to be vigilant. Careful. There may be three Arcana Hasharana in this city if we include little Alice amongst our ranks, but you know what Zora says—”

  “At least two Arcana Hasharana for every Insect God,” William finished, shrugging. “But can take on ten Insect Gods at once. What’s there to worry about?”

  Jiayin snorted. “You can take on a hundred Insect Gods at once if you want. Hell, you can probably fight all seven Greater Insect Gods at once as well. Doesn’t mean you can win—just means you can’t lose, and the only reason why you’re the second strongest human in the world.”

  “Ouch.”

  “I’d rather have Zora here. At least he can actually deal with the two of them here. You’ll just end up being the punching bag throughout this entire exam, huh?”

  “Oh, but there are things only a punching bag can do,” William said, chuckling softly as he did. “Not to worry. If you can take one and Alice can take one, that’s one Arcana Hasharana for each Insect God. Considering the Long March is on standby outside the city, we just need our six participants to step up if the situation calls for it.”

  “I’m not letting the kids fight our battles.”

  “Little Alice is younger than almost all of them. You don’t have a problem siccing her on an Insect God.”

  “Because she’s an Arcana. The six of them aren’t.”

  William shrugged again. “In that case, if you want to play it safe, you can order a total evacuation of the City of Feasts. Tell the Long March to create a barrier around the entire city so the two of them are trapped in, and then leave them both to me. It’ll take me… eh. A month or two to adapt to their attacks, and there’ll probably be collateral damage to the moon, but I’ll wear them down and kill them eventually.”

  Jiayian rolled her eyes. “You’re the second strongest human in the world by technicality only. Your Swarmblood Art’s pulling most of your weight.”

  “As long as I always get the job done,” he said cheerily, pulling out a completely new novel from inside his jacket. “And I’ll have you know, I’m the only Arcana Hasharana who has lost a fight to a bug. Even the Worm God got killed by the Swarm God once.”

  “... Okay, then.” Jiayin kept her eyes on the city, stewing in the faint, gnawing sense of unease in her chest. “If push comes to shove, I’ll be sure to get the kids out safely and let you get mauled by those two for a month.”

  “They’ll be fine, though,” William said, his voice softer this time as he flipped open his book. “I believe this year’s participants are more than half-decent. We shouldn't have to look after them as much.”

  Dahlia tumbled out of the second wormhole like a ragdoll, her limbs flailing before gravity grabbed hold and dragged her down. The fall wasn’t particularly far, but the landing was rough—stone scraping against her hands as she caught herself, knees buckling against the hard ground.

  For a moment, the world spun in lazy, nauseating circles, the colours of Eighth Mantid Street blending into a dizzying blur of oranges, reds, and sun-soaked golds.

  She pressed a hand to her forehead, groaning softly as she stood to her feet using her hammer as a crutch once again. Her stomach was still churning from the fall, but she forced herself to breathe, steady and slow. When her vision cleared, she realised she was just outside Tavern Emparatoria. It was early—too early for the bustling crowds that usually packed the street later in the day, but not so early that the faint aroma of spiced bread and sizzling meats weren’t wafting from the tavern’s open doors, inviting her in.

  Her mind lingered on the wormhole over her head for a second longer before it winked out of existence.

  Truthfully, she’d wanted to stay in the temple and talk to the others—there were of things she wanted to ask Emilia—but the moment had passed, and here she was, back ‘home’.

  The relief that came with the realisation felt a bit hollow, though. Her heart still hammered unsteadily, the adrenaline from the exam refusing to fully fade. Just a minute ago, she was in the colossal fungi forest, and now…

  She shook her head, slapped her hands on her cheeks, and forced herself to steady.

  Sucking in a deep breath, she dragged her hammer forward and stepped into the familiar warmth of the tavern. As she already heard outside, the tavern was already alive with morning activity. Safi stood behind the counter, flipped ten sizzling pans on a fiery griddle. Alice, the ever flighty, darted between tables with trays balanced in four hands, her white hair tied up in a messy bun as she exchanged half a dozen quick conversations with the patrons.

  Dahlia hesitated in the doorway, her presence almost swallowed by the energy of the tavern. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected—cheers? Concern? Truth was, she was prepared to fail the exam, so to be standing here still alive…

  Safi noticed her first, his dark eyes lighting up as his face broke into a small smile. “Welcome back.”

  Dahlia blinked at him, caught off guard. Her throat felt tight. Alice barely glanced up from the tray she was setting down as well, though a small smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “I knew you’d pass!” she said simply.

  The weight of their sudden words made Dahlia want to shrink into herself. She shifted awkwardly, offering both of them a weak smile as she smiled slightly.

  “I’m just going to head upstairs,” she mumbled. “I’m… tired.”

  With that, she wove through the tables, slipped between the patrons, and gave some of the children a small wave before climbing the stairs to the second floor. Again, she half-expected her room to not be there when she pushed the door, but there it was: small and comfortable with a simple bed, a wooden desk, and a window that overlooked the Eighth Mantid Street.

  It wasn’t a dream.

  She shut the door behind her, the muffled noise of the tavern fading into a distant hum, and then the exhaustion hit her all at once. She immediately sank into the bed, threw her hammer aside, kicked off her greaves, her sandals, and stretched out across the soft blankets.

  For a few moments, all she did was stare at the ceiling.

  The first stage of the exam was over, but something still felt… off. Her chest still felt tight, her skin still prickling with a sensation she couldn’t shake—her mind drifted back to the exam. Against the beetle twins, she felt she’d done well enough—supporting from the edges, setting up ambushes, dealing the final blow.

  But against the sun moth… that’d been Emilia’s fight.

  And if it weren’t for her, Dahlia wouldn’t be here right now.

  Kari warned.

  For her part, Dahlia simply rolled over and buried her face in her pillow.

  Her body was already succumbing to fatigue.

  she thought.

  She turned her head to glance at her hammer, sitting quietly and eerily off to the side.

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