For a moment, he stood in the empty room and then shrugged. There was more training to be done, not to mention, of course, fixing things with Briana.


    Tom returned to his body to a flood of memories. Most of them were inconsequential, apart from the most recent ones.


    His eyes widened in sudden alarm.


    There had been another confrontation.


    Briana was running away from them distraught once more and Kang had grabbed his arm to stop him from following.


    “Briana, stop.” Tom yelled after her, ignoring the other boy’s wishes, and then he violently shrugged the restraining hand off so he could run after her.


    Kang didn’t try to hold on, and, free, he took a single step - then was forced to throw on the brakes.


    A trial sphere, perfectly smooth in a way that defied reality, was directly in front of him. He attempted to stop, but was too slow, and his flailing arm made contact with the surface.


    Instantly, he was suspended in the emptiness that always took place before one entered a trial. Tom’s mind was racing as he attempted to understand what was happening. It could be a new trial randomly appearing, but the chances of that was almost zero, even if the entire town’s community fate had been bent to that outcome. That was not realistic.


    Dimitri’s voice came back to him. “The darkhole trial will start wandering soon.”


    A chill went down his spine at being so close to such an evil thing. Then worry gripped him. It wasn’t supposed to target children, but if it was targeting him, who else could it get? Panic swirled within him. If he had been entrapped because his mind was that of an adult, then that was fine. He found himself praying for that outcome.


    As though his thoughts had summoned its attention, black text appeared floating in front of him. Everything was perfectly dark, but he could still see it. The words were like a loot portal, burning itself into his awareness, and it was impossible to ignore them.


    Do you wish to challenge the Explosive Growth, or as it’s known colloquially the ‘Darkhole’ trial?


    “No,” Tom answered instantly.


    If you do, I can answer a question for you? Almost any question you can think of.


    “No,” he repeated just as firmly.


    For your peace of mind, everything I’ll say to you is truthful. I swear on the GODs.


    Tom froze at those words. They were the truth, and he could rely on what it said and promised. It was how trials usually worked, but, given the reputation of this one, he hadn’t trusted it. However, that oath meant it could neither lie nor even deliberately mislead him. It completely flipped his approach to the conversation.


    If you do accept, you have a significant chance of beating me.


    There was no doubting the statement. It was the truth, but it lacked details, which gave it a lot of leeway, and it could be fooling him by omission. That was not something he would allow.


    “What does significant mean?”


    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    Specifically, it means a greater than twenty-five percent chance of success. While it might be only twenty-five percent, it can also be far higher. The rules I am acting under mean that I can’t specify a percentage chance of success greater than that.


    Tom’s mind raced as he tried to understand what had happened. No one had ever beaten this trial, and it surprised him that his chances were considered to be so high. He wasn’t a fool. The fact he had a chance was only due to his unique circumstances and that the trial obviously scaled to the challenger; whether that was based on rank, age, or physical development remained to be seen. In most aspects, he was well ahead of the bell curve. There was his relative over-performance for his age, particularly in combat, and, he guessed, his mental abilities also played a part. Immunity to all mind attacks up to and including tier-five was not something that anyone else his age or rank would have. That might be what gave him a significant chance when everyone else had failed.


    Tom licked his lips; as always he needed more information. “Why did you offer this to me?”


    I was wandering randomly.


    “Can you swear to that?”


    No more than I already have. To the best of my knowledge, this was random.


    Tom hesitated, and he was annoyed that the communication was via text. He couldn’t tell whether his questions were making it angry or if it didn’t care.


    He guessed it didn’t matter. His only play was to stick to facts.


    What were the chances that the trial finding him was MAKROS trying to kill him? He remembered his recent encounter, and, momentarily, his soul trembled. “Can you give me more certainty?”


    Apparently, I can. That’s very interesting - such intervention rarely happens. Do you realise that you have the personal attention of GODs?


    Tom did know. He tried to stop the involuntary reaction of his body and failed miserably. Adrenaline was pumped into his system and he started to sweat. “Yes, I did.”


    Good. Then I can confirm that I was not influenced in the manner that you were worried about.


    Tom mulled over that wording. He had been specifically troubled about evil GODs trying to kill him. By making the statement it had, the trial addressed that risk, but left lots of other options for divine intervention open. For example, DEUS could have organised it for his benefit. It could have been an act of one of the neutrals, like GOBUS. She might have done it for her own amusement, and, if she was running things, this could still be a death trap, even if it was not a malicious one. The specific phrasing the trial administrator had used concerned him.


    “Did you change the wording of that answer?”


    No.


    Tom bit his lip. “So, to summarise it, I have a greater than one in four odds of winning. This is not a malicious trap sent to kill me, but the GODs probably set it up.”


    I can confirm the first two, but not the last. It could still be random chance.


    “I understand. And if I beat you, what happens?”


    You are returned to this spot uninjured with rewards you have earned. No one will be aware of your acceptance or success at the challenge, unless you tell them.


    Tom sighed in relief.


    What else? He wondered.


    There was no point asking about rewards. They would compensate him fairly for the risk he faced, and, given the fatality rate of the trial, they would have to be material.


    “Has, anyone beat you?”


    Humans no. You would be the first. Champions from other species, yes - they have beaten me.


    “So you are beatable? How often do you lose?”


    Approximately one in two million species beat the trial at least once.


    Tom stared at those numbers and swallowed. A portion of him wanted to complete the trial even more now. After all, he had a significant chance of victory; however, the sensible part of him drew away. Even if his odds of succeeding were above ninety percent, that would not a good gamble for him to take. The advantages that he would receive from the divine champions’ trial were significant, and that was on top of what the orphanage set-up was giving. He did not need to engage in more high-risk high reward gambles to end up strong.


    “I’m not going to accept.” He told it formally.


    But I can answer a question you have. For example, why did Everlyn want you to stop fighting? What is the best path to take to maximise humanity’s position in the competition? Or even how to go about stopping the assassins from killing any more people?


    The trial knew its job, and that middle question was very tempting. But it wasn’t enough.


    “No. The answer remains no.”


    You know I don’t release those I contact easily. The fact you were selected implies there is a lever I can pull to make you accept.


    “No means no.”


    Absolutely. I can’t force you to do anything… But I wonder.


    Then he was expelled from blackness to the real world.