Chapter 29: Balance.

The corridor ended at a vast circular hall.

Unlike the claustrophobic crystal passage before it, the ceiling here soared high, resembling an underground temple.

The floor consisted of enormous black-and-white stone slabs arranged in concentric rings; each one was inscribed with incomprehensible ancient celestial runes.

At the very center of the hall stood a towering stone pillar. No statue crowned it—only a single floating crystal orb resembling an enormous eyeball.

“This is the Corridor of Gravity.”

Marius raised his lantern, studying the patterns on the floor; his expression grew unusually grave.

“The floor mechanisms here are linked. The ancients used gravity-sensing devices beneath the slabs to screen those worthy of passage. Everyone, tread lightly. Stay on the white slabs as much as possible—do not disrupt the overall balance.”

“What a troublesome trap, nyaa…”

Nia’s ears twitched. As a beastkin, she was extraordinarily sensitive to vibrations in the ground.

She pressed herself flat against the floor and listened, her face paling.

“Below… it’s hollow. Really, really deep hollow, nyaa.”

“It’s a drainage system.”

Hill judged calmly.

Her previous-life adventuring experience allowed her to analyze the structure almost instantly.

“If someone falls, they’ll likely be swept into an underground river on the lower level. They might not die from the fall, but climbing back up would be nearly impossible.”

“Then we must be doubly careful.”

Elisa raised her shield, expression tense.

“I’ll handle weight distribution. My armor is the heaviest—I’ll bring up the rear and anchor the formation.”

The party began to move with extreme caution.

In this trap-filled hall, every step felt like dancing on knife edges.

Hill still walked hand-in-hand with Phyllis.

The golden chain of light between them glowed faintly in the dim hall, especially conspicuous.

Phyllis moved very slowly.

She appeared frightened—steps unsteady, body occasionally swaying as though losing balance, clinging tightly to Hill.

“Hill… I feel a little dizzy.”

Phyllis’s voice was soft, tinged with weakness.

“Perhaps that intense light spell earlier consumed too much mana…”

“Don’t push yourself. Lean on me.”

Hill supported her with concern, never once doubting.

After all, Phyllis had indeed expended a great deal of power to dispel those evil-spirit illusions for her sake.

“If it’s really bad, I can carry you on my back?”

“No… that would shift our center of gravity and trigger the mechanism.”

Phyllis shook her head, but her grip on Hill’s hand tightened noticeably.

Her gaze passed over Hill’s shoulder, flicking toward Nia ahead and Elisa at the rear.

She rapidly calculated coordinates in her mind.

Elisa—heavy armor, roughly one hundred twenty kilograms including gear.

Nia—lightweight, around forty kilograms.

Current formation…

A slight breeze would be enough…

The party reached the central zone of the hall.

Just as Nia stepped onto a black slab to inspect the exit ahead—

Click!

A faint sound—like gears misaligning—rang out.

No one had stepped on the wrong tile.

Instead, from the darkness high above, an almost imperceptible compressed air projectile struck the very top of the central balancing pillar with surgical precision.

It was as though a single feather had been placed on one side of a perfectly balanced scale.

Tiny—but the final straw.

Boom!!!

The entire floor shuddered violently.

The once-level ground suddenly split like a sliced cake, tilting sharply around the central axis!

The direction of the tilt… precisely toward the side where Elisa and Nia stood.

“Waaahhh!!”

Nia screamed.

Her boots had poor grip to begin with; on the suddenly near-45-degree slope she lost balance instantly, tumbling like a ball toward the yawning abyss.

“Nia!!”

Elisa reacted with lightning speed.

As a knight who valued honor above all, her protective instinct exploded in that moment.

She did not plant her shield to anchor herself—instead she lunged forward, seizing Nia’s ankle in a desperate grip.

“Got you!!”

Elisa roared.

But the momentum—combined with the sheer weight of her armor—caused her to lose balance as well.

The two of them, linked like weights on a scale, accelerated toward the edge.

“Elisa!!”

Hill’s pupils contracted to pinpricks.

Instinct outpaced thought.

In that instant, Hill had no time to wonder why the mechanism had activated.

Only one thought burned in her mind—save them!

She surged forward, feet expertly finding purchase on the tilting slabs, body low, left hand clawing the stone for stability, right hand thrusting out—

“Give me your hand!!!”

The distance was close.

With Hill’s current explosive power, half a meter more and she could grasp Elisa’s outstretched gauntlet.

Three meters…

Two meters…

One meter…

Hill’s fingertips were almost brushing Elisa’s cold metal fingers.

But in that fate-deciding instant—

“Ah!”

A short, terrified cry of alarm sounded behind Hill.

Phyllis’s voice.

Immediately after, an enormous pulling force yanked at Hill’s left wrist.

Snap!

The golden chain of light snapped taut.

Hill’s forward charge was brutally arrested.

Her body was jerked violently backward.

The hand that had been only five centimeters away became an impassable chasm.

Hill watched helplessly as Elisa’s fingers slid past her own, barely grazing.

Time seemed to slow.

She saw the flash of despair and resignation in Elisa’s eyes, saw Nia’s tail still whipping desperately.

“Cap… tain…”

Elisa’s voice faded as they plummeted.

Splash!

The two vanished into the pitch-black fissure; a dull, echoing splash followed as they struck water far below.

“Elisa! Nia!!”

Hill threw herself to the tilted edge, roaring into the abyss.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry, Hill…”

Behind her came Phyllis’s tearful, trembling voice.

Hill turned.

Phyllis had fallen to the ground two meters away, sprawled in disarray.

She clung desperately to a raised protrusion on the floor, face deathly pale—seemingly having completely lost balance from the earlier shock.

“I… I slipped…”

Phyllis’s eyes brimmed with tears; she looked utterly terrified by the sudden catastrophe.

“I tried to hold you back, but the ground was too slippery. I didn’t want to drag you down, but my body just wouldn’t listen…”

The truth of that instant was—

When Hill lunged forward, Phyllis had indeed slipped.

But she had fallen in the opposite direction.

And—quite “unintentionally”—she had channeled the full weight of her body plus the reactive force into that single chain.

One yank.

An impassable gulf created.

The art of murder.

Not that I didn’t want to save them—circumstances simply wouldn’t allow it.

Hill looked at Phyllis—so frightened, so helpless, trembling all over.

The words of blame refused to leave her throat.

Phyllis was a mage—physically frail.

In such a sudden, violent shift of terrain, simply not falling in herself was already impressive.

How could Hill blame her for holding them back?

“…It’s fine. It’s not your fault.”

Hill gritted her teeth, forcibly suppressing the grief and that strange sense of wrongness in her chest.

With all her strength, she pulled the fallen Phyllis back to her feet.

By then, the mechanism seemed to have completed its “screening”; with a low rumble, the floor slowly leveled once more.

The hall stood empty.

Only Hill—breathing hard—Phyllis—still shivering—and Marius, who had floated safely in midair with flight magic the entire time, unscathed.

“What a pity…”

Marius descended gently, gazing into the bottomless fissure and adjusting his glasses.

His tone was grave, yet carried little genuine sorrow.

“It seems the knight and the scout failed the trial. But judging by the splash, they fell into water. If luck is with them, they may yet drift out along the underground river.”

“There’s still a chance they’re alive?”

Hill seized the sliver of hope.

“Quite likely.”

Marius glanced at the pale-faced Hill, then at the apologetic nun beside her; a flicker of deep contemplation passed through his eyes.

That slip earlier…

Wasn’t the timing just a little too perfect?

“Hill, your hand…”

Phyllis suddenly cupped Hill’s right hand.

In her earlier scramble to brace herself, Hill’s fingers had scraped against the rough stone, breaking the skin and drawing thin lines of blood.

“It’s all my fault… If only I were stronger, if only I weren’t so clumsy…”

Phyllis’s tears fell like broken beads.

She frantically produced a salve, insisting—despite Hill’s protests—on treating the wound immediately.

“Hill’s hand was hurt because you were trying to save someone… and it’s because I’m useless…”

She buried her face in Hill’s palm; the warm tears scalded Hill’s skin, leaving her at a loss.

“Alright, Phyllis. Stop crying.”

Hill sighed, ending up comforting the very person responsible.

“As long as you’re safe. If even you had fallen… I really wouldn’t know what to do.”

Hearing those words, Phyllis—face still hidden—allowed the faintest curve to touch her lips in the shadows.

Now, the obstacles were finally gone.

All that remained… was this last rat.

When Phyllis lifted her head, her tears were still wet, but her gaze had turned exceptionally resolute.

“Hill, let’s keep going.”

She clasped Hill’s hand tightly.

“No matter what happens this time, I absolutely won’t slip again. Even if it means dying—I want to die on the same tile as you.”

Words that sounded like a vow of eternal devotion.

Yet to Marius standing nearby, they sent an inexplicable chill racing up his spine.

At this moment, only three people remained in the hall.