NOVEL NEXT WORLD Chapter 635: Darned exits
Ty swung the blade, the metal slicing through the tendril. For a heartbeat, he thought he heard something – a faint scream, like the echo of a lost soul. He didn't have time to dwell on it, forced to spin and deflect another incoming strike. The black flames surged along the blade, helping him cut through the icy tendrils, but each swing sent jolts of pain through his already frozen limbs.
The acid pits were growing, spreading across the room like a sinister tide. Ty's heart pounded as he realized he couldn't keep dodging forever. He needed to find the exit – now. His eyes darted across the ice, searching, and then he saw it. A door, barely visible through the fog and frost, standing at the far end of the room. He didn't hesitate. With one last burst of black flames, he propelled himself toward it.
The ground seemed to sense his desperation, the icy tendrils lashing out more violently, as if the room itself refused to let him leave. Ty ducked and rolled, his bag scraping across the ground, his remaining supplies spilling out. He ignored them, his focus solely on reaching that door.
He stumbled, feeling a tendril graze his side, the freezing cold cutting through his clothes like a knife. He clenched his teeth, slashing back with his blade, severing the tendril before it could wrap around him. His breath came out in visible puffs, his vision blurring from the cold and exhaustion.
Finally, he reached the door. Ty slammed into it, his fingers numb as he fumbled for the keys he had gathered. His heart pounded as he jammed the first key into the lock, twisting it – but it snapped, the brittle metal breaking in his frozen hands.
"No, no, no..." he muttered, frantically grabbing another key. He tried it, but it wouldn't even fit into the lock. He cursed, tossing it aside and trying another. The acid was rising, the pits merging together, creeping closer to where he stood. He could hear the hiss of the ice melting, the acrid smell filling the air.
Another key snapped in the lock, and Ty felt panic clawing at him. He glanced over his shoulder, seeing the acid inching closer, the tendrils of ice still writhing, reaching for him. His hands shook as he grabbed another key, forcing it into the lock. It didn't budge. He could feel the cold sweat on his forehead, the weight of the situation pressing down on him.
"Come on, come on!" he growled, his voice barely audible over the roar of the acid and the cracking of the ice. He jammed another key into the lock, twisting it violently. It snapped, just like the others. Ty's eyes widened, his breathing ragged. He was running out of keys, and the acid was nearly at his feet.
The ground beneath him trembled, and Ty knew he was out of time. He grabbed the last key, his fingers nearly numb, and shoved it into the lock. He turned it, praying it would work. It didn't move. Ty cursed, slamming his fist against the door, the black flames flaring around him in frustration.
He looked down, seeing the acid just inches away. The tendrils were still coming, their movements frantic, desperate to drag him down. Ty's eyes darted around, searching for anything he could use, any other way out. He could feel his body trembling, the cold and exhaustion taking their toll.
The tendrils lunged at him, and Ty swung his blade, deflecting them, the black flames roaring to life along the blade's edge. He could still hear the faint screams, the souls trapped within the metal crying out with each strike. He pushed the sound from his mind, focusing on the door, on the lock that refused to open.
"There has to be a way," he muttered, his breath coming in short gasps. He could feel the acid at his feet, the heat from the corrosive liquid seeping through the soles of his boots. He glanced at the keys, the broken pieces scattered around him, and a thought crossed his mind. He looked at the wristband that had fallen from his bag, now half-submerged in the acid.
Ty swiped the blade forward, aiming at the acid tendril with every ounce of strength he had left. The green tendril pulled back, dodging the strike. Ty's eyes widened in surprise, but he had no time to adjust as another tendril cut low, slamming into his chest. The force of the hit sent him sprawling to the ground, his vision blurring, his mouth filling with a metallic taste. He coughed, spitting out a thick glob of blood. Before he could catch his breath, another tendril wrapped around his waist, tightening its hold, and with a vicious yank, it hurled him skyward.
The cold wind whipped around Ty as he sailed upwards, his body flipping end over end in the air. He barely had time to brace himself as the tendrils shot out again, striking him in midair. They coiled around his limbs, each impact like a sledgehammer against his already battered body. He felt the icy white color of the tendrils shift, darkening to a sickly green, and a sense of dread settled in his chest. Whatever these things were, they had changed. They were evolving, getting stronger. Stay updated via My Virtual Library Empire
Down below, the drones buzzed in a frenzy, their cameras capturing every brutal moment. On the other end of the broadcast, JJ shot up from her chair, her face twisted in panic. "No! Ty! You can't die here!" she screamed, her voice echoing across the viewing area. Around her, people were glued to their own screens, watching their chosen contestants fight for their lives. Alexander's father sipped his wine, smirking as he observed his son navigate a labyrinth with calm efficiency. "He's struggling, ain't he?" he muttered, his eyes flickering to Ty's feed. Elsewhere, Gisorn and Kern were in their own deadly trials—one faced a horde of spiders crawling toward him from all sides, while the other was surrounded by a nest of writhing snakes, their fangs glistening.
Ty's mind felt like it was slipping away, the pressure of the tendrils squeezing tighter, stealing his breath, his strength. He gritted his teeth, trying to think, trying to focus. Something about these tendrils was off. They weren't mechanical; they weren't like the traps he'd encountered before. It felt alive—like someone was controlling them. "This... this isn't technology," he whispered through clenched teeth, his eyes narrowing as the realization struck. "This has to be someone's skill."
The tendrils tightened, squeezing his chest, pressing the air from his lungs. Ty clenched his fist, his vision tunneling. He could feel the acid's burn creeping closer, the green glow of the tendrils intensifying. His muscles screamed in protest, his entire body on the verge of giving up, but there was something deeper—a fire that refused to die out. He focused on it, pulled it into himself. His fist began to glow, dark energy swirling around it. Ty sucked in a breath, his eyes blazing with determination.
"Not yet," he growled, his voice barely a rasp. He coiled his energy, pulling everything into that one point, and with a fierce roar, he lashed out. The power exploded from him, black flames erupting in a burst, scattering the tendrils. The force of the blast threw Ty backward, sending him tumbling through the air. He fell, his stomach lurching as the ground rushed up to meet him.
The room was chaos—acrid smoke, hissing acid, shattered ice, and that lone patch of solid ground, a desperate sanctuary amidst the madness. Ty twisted in midair, his gaze locking on that one spot—the door, the only way out, and a lone column standing defiantly in the center of it all. His body ached, his ribs felt cracked, his vision blurred, but he focused on that patch, willing himself to reach it.
He hit the ground hard, his knees buckling beneath him. Pain shot up his legs, but he forced himself up, ignoring the throbbing in his bones. He could hear the tendrils regrouping, the slithering hiss of acid beginning to spread, devouring everything in its path. Ty stumbled forward, his hand gripping the blade tightly, his eyes flickering between the door and the creeping green below.
The tendrils reformed with acid swirling around the ground, almost like a living force. Ty glanced up, noticing the clock—two minutes left. The countdown was relentless, and the pressure felt like a thousand pounds on his shoulders.