Celia turned her gaze toward Isaac as well.
She waited for his words, trusting his judgment.
"We can leave if we want," Isaac said after a moment. "Teleporting would solve that. But, we need map fragments. Moving away from this group won’t change that fact.
"So let’s talk to them first. If they want to fight, we’ll take their fragments forcefully. If not, maybe we can trade," Isaac said.
"You think they’d want to trade?" Celia asked.
"It’s possible. The items in the special shop are strong, but most people don’t want to spend their stat points on them. I can cover that for them. Besides," he added, glancing at Althea, "no one has ever cleared Hell Difficulty before, right?"
"None that I know of," Althea confirmed.
"Which means they’re bound to fail the trial sooner or later. Some of them might be tempted to exchange their fragments for items instead of aiming for a trial they don’t have hope to pass," Celia said, realizing Isaac’s thought process.
Isaac gave a brief nod, though he didn’t explain the real reason for his decision.
He knew the trial’s twenty-four-hour time limit was pressing.
Every map fragment taken from others would cut down the hours he’d otherwise waste hunting monsters.
This was the most efficient way of completing the first objective.
Althea, however, was still tense. "Not everyone will give up so easily. The ones who dare to enter this place are strong, and most are here chasing a chance to evolve into species that stand above even high-rank bloodlines. They would do anything for that. So be careful."
"I know," Isaac replied quietly.
He gave instructions quickly.
"Althea, you should hide for now. If this turns into a fight, we don’t want enemies linking you back to the Florathi race later."
Althea paused, then nodded.
The Florathi were powerful conquerors.
They had crushed countless Lords and slain several Overlord-rank monsters.
But she knew better than to wear arrogance like armor.
Strength was valuable, but wisdom kept one alive longer.
Without another word, she began to move.
Isaac turned toward Celia.
Before he could speak, she unfastened her weapon—the Stormshadow Katana—and pressed it into his hands.
He frowned immediately. "Celia, I can handle them. You should keep your weapon."
"I’m only lending it to you," she said. "Return it later."
Her tone made it clear she wouldn’t take no for an answer.
Isaac hesitated, then wrapped his fingers around the hilt.
Althea, watching from the side, noticed.
She understood Celia’s reasoning without needing words: the strongest weapon belonged in the hands of the strongest fighter.
Still, Althea could tell the main reason Celia gave weapon to Isaac.
She was worried for his safety.
Althea’s expression twisted slightly.
It was as if she were silently accusing them— Really? Flirting in the middle of a trial? Are you doing this just to make the single me jealous?
Her glare lingered a second longer before she turned away and disappeared into the shadows.
The timing was precise.
Just as Althea faded from sight, the other group finally arrived.
Ten of them, moving in unison.
Their steps carried the weight of trained warriors and awakened beings.
Each one of them was from a different species.
A tall woman with horns curling back from her head, and skin pale as stone.
A hulking beastman with fur covering his arms and chest with hands too large for normal weapons.
A man cloaked in robes that shimmered faintly, betraying enchantments woven into the fabric.
Another wore heavy armor, scars etched into both steel and skin.
Two figures moved like twins, their short daggers gleaming at their hips.
The rest ranged from human-like to vaguely monstrous, but all shared the same air of power.
At the front, a man with a polished smile stepped forward.
His posture was relaxed, but his eyes were sharp and calculating.
"Greetings," he said, voice carrying an ease that almost sounded rehearsed. "I’m Edmund Hawthorne, second rank on the current ranking board. We came to find you since we detected your presence. Don’t worry. We have no intention of attacking you."
Celia’s expression soured immediately.
The way he smiled, the way his words slid out, it reminded her of the kind of nobles she saw in royal palace and producers she met in the Fortified City 50.
They were people who smiled with promises while plotting behind the curtains.
Her instincts told her everything she needed to know, and her mood dropped.
"If you aren’t here to fight, then we can leave," she said plainly.
Isaac stayed silent, as they had planned.
Celia was the leader, and he was supposed to be her guard.
He was acting as an old veteran standing watch over her.
It was a role designed to make others cautious, to make him appear stronger than he truly was.
His silence gave him space to study the group.
His eyes stopped at one figure in particular.
A man who stood in the group with a carefree expression.
He had long dark hair tied back.
His features were sharp yet easy going.
His clothing was simple compared to the rest, but the calm steadiness in his gaze marked him differently.
Isaac’s instincts screamed at him.
That one. He’s the strongest among them.
The realization sharpened Isaac’s focus. And to his surprise, the man looked at him after sensing his gaze and waved.
Meanwhile, Edmund continued his conversation with Celia.
"Ah, wait. I have a proposal," he said.
"Speak," Celia answered curtly.
"How about you work with us? Larger groups have better security. You must know by now that some trial participants are hunting others for map fragments. It’s dangerous to walk around alone."
"We can protect ourselves," Celia said flatly.
Isaac raised a brow.
He hadn’t expected her to dismiss Edmund so harshly, but he realized the man’s tone had rubbed her the wrong way from the start.
Edmund’s smile faltered just a little. "That’s unfortunate. Because what I said is true. There are participants hunting others. It would be a shame if your group were targeted."
His hand dropped casually to the sword at his waist, fingers resting on the hilt.
The gesture was obvious.
It was a threat dressed as a warning.
Before the words could even settle, Isaac moved.
His hand tightened on the Stormshadow Katana, and he vanished from his position.
Shadow Step skill of the sword carried him forward, and in the blink of an eye, he was behind Edmund.
The katana’s blade was already drawn.
Its cold edge rested at the man’s neck.
"Were you threatening my lady?" Isaac’s voice was low, controlled, carrying the weight of someone older and deadlier than he appeared.
The rest of the group reacted instantly.
Their hands went to weapons, and their stances shifted.
But they froze as Isaac’s pressure expanded outward.
Extreme Colossus Will erupted like an unseen storm.
The air thickened, every breath became heavy, and their knees nearly buckled under the invisible weight.
It was as if gravity itself had spiked, pressing down on them with merciless force.
"You should stop now, uncle," Celia said lightly, her voice carrying an almost playful tone. "This much is enough for a warning."
Isaac let the pressure fade and slid the katana back into its sheath.
He stepped back calmly.
Behind the mask, however, his smile was twitching.
Uncle?
When did I become your uncle?
I told you to treat me like your guard, not uncle!
Edmund staggered a half-step back, fury flashing across his face.
"You! How dare you do that to us!?" His voice cracked with anger, but the edge of fear was there too.
Isaac ignored him.
His eyes shifted back to the man he had noticed earlier. The one with a carefree smile.
Unlike the rest of his group, that man withstood the pressure of Extreme Colossus Will without faltering.
That told Isaac enough.
This was the true leader of the group.
"Teach your men how to behave," Isaac said.
His figure flickered, and in the next instant, he was back beside Celia, standing like nothing had happened.
The man let out a wry smile.
He stepped forward with steady movements, patted Edmund to calm him down, and gave a respectful bow to Isaac and Celia.
"I apologize for my follower’s rude actions. I am the real Edmund Hawthorne. The one you confronted just now," he said, turning slightly to glance at the furious man, "is Alex, my friend. He was acting in my place, using my name and pretending to be me since he is my guard."
The group shifted uncomfortably, but none dared to speak.
Celia nodded once, acknowledging the explanation without pressing further.
Edmund’s eyes swept over the two masked figures.
His expression remained relaxed, but his words carried a pointed curiosity.
"May I ask, are either of you Cārus? The one ranked first?"
"Yes," Celia answered calmly.
She didn’t bother to elaborate on which of them was the real Cārus.
Edmund didn’t ask either.
He accepted the vague answer with an understanding smile and moved on.
"In that case, I’ll be direct. Since the two of you are still here, I take it you intend to trade with us? I noticed both of you are wearing the Mask of Unknown from the Special Shop."
His voice carried an amused edge as he added, "Are you hoping to trade similar shop items in exchange for our map fragments?"
Gasps rippled through Edmund’s followers.
Their eyes darted between the masks covering Isaac and Celia’s faces, finally realizing what they were.
Each mask was worth a thousand stat points.
To most participants, that was an astronomical cost, impossible to even consider.
One of them muttered under their breath, "They actually bought them..."