The three of them sat exactly where they’d collapsed:
on the cold stone floor, backs against the half-melted pillar, the echo of the dual-wielders’ footsteps fading into the maze.
For the first time in what felt like hours, nothing was trying to kill them.
Harlada closed her eyes. “We’re staying put.”
Leo nodded. “Yes. The dual-wielders’ rule was clear: remain irrelevant. Irrelevant means not running around the maze like idiots.”
Bert crossed his arms protectively over his empty snack pouch. “Irrelevant means resting. Good plan.”
They sat in silence.
Breathing.
Recovering.
Trying to forget how close they’d come to being turned into Maze confetti.
After a minute, Leo blinked, sat up straight, and slapped his forehead.
“Oh no.”
Harlada cracked one eye open. “What now?”
Leo pointed at the glowing interface hovering faintly above his hand — a notification left unopened.
“We forgot to level up. Again.”
Bert’s mouth dropped open. “Wait. You’re telling me—we survived all THAT with unspent level points?!”
Leo nodded miserably. “I meant to remind us… but then there was the duck, and the kids, and the acid, and the dual-wielders, and—”
Harlada sat upright and glared at him.
“Leo,” she said, voice flat and tired, “we have got to get better at this.”
Leo wilted. “I know.”
Bert raised a hand. “To be fair—”
“No,” Harlada said instantly. “There is no ‘to be fair.’ We forgot to level up TWICE. In a death maze.”
Bert lowered his hand. “…Fair.”
Leo sighed and pulled up the interface. “Okay. Let’s fix this. Properly. No distractions, no explosions, no flaming versions of ourselves.”
Harlada rubbed her temples. “Let’s rest. Then level. Then… maybe try not dying.”
Bert nodded solemnly. “One goal at a time.”
The Maze pulsed quietly nearby, almost bored with them.
Idle state detected.
Acceptable.
Irrelevant.
Leo flopped back down. “See? Even the Maze approves.”
Harlada groaned. “That’s not something to be proud of.”
And the three of them — bruised, exhausted, and extremely irrelevant — stayed put, gathering the courage to finally open their stat screens.
***
Leo finally opened his stat screen, the glowing menu reflecting in his worried eyes.
Harlada opened hers too, scanning it with the same intensity she used when preparing to murder someone.
Bert, however, stared at his like it was written in ancient runes.
Leo frowned. “Okay… Strength, Agility, Endurance, Intelligence… why are there so many attributes?”
Harlada scrolled down. “There are also sub-stats. Dexterity, Perception, Focus, Mana Efficiency—”
Leo pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why does Focus have a Focus sub-menu?”
Harlada shrugged. “Maze design philosophy: confusion equals danger.”
“Yeah, I’m feeling very endangered,” Leo muttered.
Bert leaned forward suddenly, squinting. “Hey—what’s ‘Sleight of Hand’ doing here? Is that… an attribute?”
Harlada didn’t even look up. “No, Bert. That’s a skill.”
“Oh,” Bert said thoughtfully. “So what attribute does it raise?”
Harlada lowered her stat screen very, very slowly.
Then stared at him.
“Bert.
It’s a skill.
Not.
An.
Attribute.”
Leo peeked at Bert’s screen.
Then froze.
“Oh… oh no.”
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
Harlada leaned in. “What? What’s wrong?”
Leo pointed.
Bert’s skill menu was completely, utterly empty.
Not a single point spent.
Not a single skill selected.
Not even a default passive.
Just a blinking prompt:
SKILLS UNASSIGNED — 7 AVAILABLE
Leo whispered, “Bert… have you… never filled out your skills?”
Bert looked offended. “No! Of course I have! I definitely clicked things!”
Harlada tapped the screen. “Clicked… what exactly?”
Bert puffed up defensively. “I don’t know! I thought it auto-selected! Or merged! Or—”
Harlada buried her face in her hands. “Bert. We have been running around this Maze with you at… zero skills.”
Leo stared at him. “This explains so much.”
Bert crossed his arms. “Excuse me, I have done VERY well.”
“You lost your sword in two fights,” Harlada reminded him.
“You set off three traps,” Leo added.
“And you died twice last season,” Harlada said.
Bert pointed at them both. “Skill issue! Not mine. Yours. For assuming I had any!”
Leo laughed helplessly. “Okay. We need to fix this NOW.”
Harlada nodded. “Bert, start assigning. Anything. Literally anything is better than nothing.”
Bert opened the skill list.
His eyes lit up.
“Wait—what does ‘Accidental Parry’ do?”
Leo rubbed his face. “This is going to take a while.”
The Maze pulsed, amused.
Skill assignment detected.
Chaos probability rising.
Harlada sighed. “We need better adventurers.”
Leo nodded. “Or fewer stat screens.”
Bert grinned proudly. “I’m putting everything into Sleight of Hand!”
Both Leo and Harlada shouted at once:
“NO!”
***
Bert sat cross-legged on the floor, arms folded, cheeks puffed out like an indignant toddler.
His stat screen flickered in front of him, full of newly spent points he did not like.
“I can’t believe this,” he grumbled. “I had to take useless skills.”
Leo didn’t look up from his own screen. “Bert, disarm traps is not useless.”
“It IS,” Bert insisted. “Because every time I disarm something, it explodes anyway.”
“That is a you problem,” Harlada muttered without sympathy.
Bert huffed. “And acrobatics? Acrobatics?! I’m a rogue, not a circus act!”
Leo raised an eyebrow. “You literally swung from a chandelier three hours ago.”
“That was different,” Bert snapped.
Harlada scrolled past her own menus. “You also took Stealth. That’s standard for rogues.”
“I wanted Sleight of Hand,” Bert said, stabbing the air. “A real rogue skill! But noooo, I only had enough points for ONE. One! That’s humiliating!”
“You now have seven other skills,” Leo reminded him.
“Yes! BORING ones!”
Leo sighed and turned his screen. “Look. At least we’re all stronger now.”
Leo — Level Up Summary:
? +1 Strength
? New Skill: Power Attack
Leo tested the weight in his arm, flexing carefully. “Okay… that actually feels good. Stronger.”
Harlada lifted her chin proudly. “Mine’s better.”
Harlada — Level Up Summary:
? +1 Intelligence
? New Skill: Electric Proficiency
— Lightning Bolt evolves into Chain Lightning
She snapped her fingers, sending a tiny spark arcing to a nearby torch.
It bounced off the metal sconce with a sharp PING.
Leo winced. “Yeah. That’s terrifying.”
Harlada smiled, pleased.
Then both of them turned to Bert.
Bert, dramatically, turned his screen toward them like a disgruntled employee presenting a terrible performance review.
Bert — Level Up Summary:
? +1 Dexterity
? Skills:
– Disarm Traps
– Detect Traps
– Stealth
– Acrobatics
– Sleight of Hand
– Extra Speed
– Poison Use
Leo squinted. “Poison Use?”
Harlada narrowed her eyes. “That’s not a real skill.”
“It IS a real skill!” Bert hissed. “It says right there: Poison Use — allows safe application of toxic substances.”
Leo frowned. “Where are you getting poison?”
Bert froze.
Harlada leaned in. “Bert.”
Bert stared at his shoes. “Not… important.”
Harlada smacked her forehead. “This is what we get for letting you pick freely.”
“I AM A ROGUE!” Bert shouted. “This is what rogues DO!”
Leo patted his shoulder. “You’re doing great, buddy. Very rogue-like.”
Harlada added, “We’ll keep you far away from anything labeled ‘venomous.’”
Bert muttered, “You underestimate my potential.”
The Maze pulsed faintly, the walls humming with sarcastic approval.
Level progression logged.
Competency still questionable.
Harlada groaned. “Even the Maze agrees.”
Leo closed his screen. “Okay. Skills chosen. Attributes set. We’re stronger now.”
Bert nodded, still sulking. “I could’ve been stronger with more Sleight of Hand…”
Leo sighed. “Let’s survive this run first. Then you can steal things recreationally.”
Harlada pointed onward into the corridor. “Come on. We’ve been irrelevant long enough.”
Bert stood, cracking his knuckles. “Fine. But if I die, I’m haunting you.”
Leo smiled. “That would also be very rogue-like.”
***
finally the message came:
Maze Run #477984 completed.
Winner ascended to Progression.
Reset in 5 minutes.
Ok team, Harlada said dead serious.
“this time we go for progression.”
They all nodded.
