The Weapon Genius: Anything I Hold Can Kill

Jin moved through the gash in the labyrinth's wall, Muramasa still drawn, its hum fading but steady in his grip. The destruction left by the scythe hadn't just split the stone—it had unraveled a path, the maze unspooled like ribbon in the wake of power far beyond his own. He followed the ruin carefully, boots crunching over fractured tile, the air still heavy with dust and echoing energy.

He didn't speak this time. No "Marco." No joke to fill the silence. The tension in the air didn't allow for it.

This wasn't his domain.

The corridor ahead remained dark despite the torches mounted along the walls. The deeper he moved into the path carved by the anomaly, the more the shadows stretched unnaturally, as if the maze was still trying to remember it had rules.

A low breeze stirred—strange in a place so closed. It didn't feel natural. Jin slowed.

Then—

Movement.

Behind him.

Fast.

A flicker of presence shot through the air like a pulse. Jin turned instantly, body tightening into action. He pivoted on his heel and slashed—clean and sharp, blade slicing through the air with precision honed by instinct.

But the strike didn't land.

The form in front of him shifted—unraveled mid-motion into a slosh of loose sand, scattering backward across the corridor. It hit the wall, slumped downward like a collapsing tide, and started to reform.

Jin stepped back, sword ready.

The shape twisted. Solidified.

And coughed.

"Okay," a familiar voice wheezed from the forming body. "I still haven't… gotten this one quite right."

Yujin stood there, hunched slightly, brushing sand from her shoulders with a grimace. Her hair was half-pulled back, and a faint golden circlet shimmered faintly across her forehead, a subtle glow nestled above her brows. A few grains of sand still rolled from her skin before vanishing entirely.

Jin blinked, sword still half-raised. "Yujin?"

"Hey," she said, voice dry and still catching its breath. "Surprise."

He lowered the blade. "You turned into sand."

"That was the idea," she muttered, shaking out one leg. "Tried for a fennec at first. Didn't go so well. Thought maybe a sandcat would be easier. Ended up closer to a dust devil."

Jin exhaled. His heart still hadn't settled. "A little warning next time."

She looked around—at the deep corridor of destruction stretching behind him.

"Whoa. This... was you?"

"No," Jin said flatly.

Yujin arched a brow.

He sighed. "Met someone. Another anomaly."

That made her pause. "Here? In the trial?"

"He said this space counted as part of his domain. System couldn't stop him."

"That's not terrifying at all," she muttered.

"He didn't attack—well, not really. Just… tested me." Jin's eyes drifted back to the corridor, remembering the way the stone had peeled apart. "He carved this out to save time."

Yujin took a few steps toward the hole and whistled low. "Wish I had that kind of power. I've been crawling through this maze trying to figure out which turns aren't trying to gas me."

"You okay?"

"Yeah," she said, then frowned. "Mostly. This circlet helps—lets me access more shift forms—but it's weird. Every time I pick something new, I can feel the instincts creep in."

"You keeping control?"

"Barely," she muttered. "Almost tried to burrow under a wall like a fox a few minutes ago."

Jin didn't smile, but the tension in his shoulders loosened just slightly. "Well, you found me. That's one down."

Yujin straightened and stretched. "Still gotta find Jisoo, right?"

"Yeah." Jin adjusted Muramasa back into its sheath, fingers trailing briefly along the scorched wall. "Let's keep moving. Whatever this place is—it's watching."

She nodded once, the circlet gleaming faintly as her steps fell into pace with his.

Together, they stepped deeper into the fractured maze. Torchlight flickered to life ahead of them, lighting the way through the devastation.

But the silence that followed wasn't empty.

It was waiting.

Yujin's steps slowed first.

Jin noticed the slight tilt of her head—the way her pupils narrowed, how the subtle animal traits in her gaze flickered and sharpened. Her ears shimmered as they shifted, elongating into sleek, pointed shapes with tufts at the tips. They twitched once. Twice.

She held up a hand. "Something's moving."

Jin stopped.

"Where?" he asked, voice low.

She didn't answer at first. Just turned slowly, her whole body syncing with the shift in attention. "High. Too high for footsteps. But… fluttering? Like wings. Big ones."

Jin's grip returned to Muramasa. "Hostile?"

"Not sure." Her voice dropped, and her muscles tensed. "Going up."

Before he could reply, she was already shifting.

Her outline blurred—shoulders broadening, feathers fanning across her arms and spine. Her legs elongated and tightened with power, talons curling where her boots had been. In one swift, feathered motion, she kicked off the stone and launched herself into the air.

Wings burst outward—twenty, maybe twenty-five feet across—each feather bristling with dark silver and gold.

Jin took a step back as the sudden gust of wind rolled across the ruined corridor, almost knocking him off balance. Dust and rubble spiraled around him. The wind howled like a thing alive.

Yujin soared upward, piercing the roofless stretch of the maze like an arrow shot from heaven.

Above, the entire space changed.

As she climbed higher, the air itself shifted. Not just the weather—but the feeling of the place. The dome of the maze wasn't just ceilingless—it was open. Open to something larger. Like a sky far removed from Earth.

Then—

A sudden updraft hit.

Stronger than before. Yujin's wings shuddered mid-flight, feathers rippling violently. The wind shoved her higher, dragging her toward the maze's peak. She twisted in air, managing to steady herself—but her expression shifted from alert to wild.

She spun in a sharp arc, riding the wind rather than fighting it. For a few moments, she vanished from Jin's line of sight.

Then she dove.

Her form spiraled downward like a stormbird in pursuit.

She hit the ground hard but landed on her talons, crouched, feathers bristling.

"I saw her," Yujin breathed, eyes wide. "It's Jisoo—she's on the west quadrant."

"She okay?"

"Hard to say. She's moving fast. Like—too fast."

"Still running?"

"No," Yujin said. "Dashing. Over and over again. She's lost control."

Jin's jaw tightened. "Can you carry me?"

Yujin nodded and started shifting again. Her form bulked up—wings widening, body growing, until the bird that stood before him wasn't just a large eagle.

It was a thunderbird.

Feathers shimmered with faint gold crackles, wind curling around her presence like it was drawn to her. Her beak curved into something sharp, elegant, dangerous. With a low screech and powerful beat of her wings, she lowered herself enough for Jin to hop on.

"Hold tight," her voice rasped—somewhere between human and myth.

Jin grabbed the base of her neck, grounding himself as best he could.

Then they launched.

The ground disappeared in a heartbeat.

Wind screamed past them, but Yujin cut through the air cleanly. Her wings pulsed with raw power—each flap propelling them over the maze's fractured layout. Jin spotted the rubble, the split corridors, and the winding paths. But his eyes searched for only one thing—

There.

A blur of motion below.

"She's—" Jin began.

"Already on it," Yujin replied.

She tucked one wing and dropped low, diving with deadly grace. They shot forward, chasing the flickering form racing through the corridor. Jisoo was a blur—her skill pushing her forward in bursts of motion, almost uncontrolled, ricocheting off walls, bounding through turns like a skipping bullet.

"JISOO!" Jin shouted.

No response.

Another blur. She dashed again—this time missing a turn and crashing through a smaller wall. Dust exploded from the impact.

"Drop me!" Jin yelled. "Now!"

Yujin tilted her wings and let him fall.

Jin landed in a roll, cushioning himself before sprinting after the trail of dust.

Yujin flapped once, adjusted, and then dove again—trying to time it just right.

Ahead, Jisoo burst through another wall, eyes wide but unfocused. She dashed again—straight into the clearing at the center of the maze.

"Now!" Jin shouted.

Yujin snapped her wings forward and crashed into her mid-flight.

They tumbled together into the open space, skidding across polished stone.

"GOT YOU!" Yujin wheezed, feathers dispersing, body reverting mid-slide.

Jisoo groaned under her, dazed but no longer moving.

Jin ran up beside them.

The moment he crossed into the clearing, something clicked.

A pulse.

Not sound. Not light.

But presence.

The stone beneath them shimmered. Carvings once dulled by dust flared with radiant gold. The wind stilled. The air compressed. And from above—

A voice.

The system.

[Phase One Complete.]

[Trial of the Labyrinth – Central Convergence Achieved.]

[Acknowledging Participant Team: Lifebound Grove]

[Performance Rating – Pending…]

Jisoo groaned, rubbing her head. "Ugh… I feel like I got hit by a freight train."

"You kind of did," Yujin muttered.

Jin stood in the center of the clearing, staring up at the suddenly glowing maze ceiling. His breath steadied—but only slightly.

Then—

[Phase Two Initiating.]

The air cracked with force.

From the walls, new openings split—four exits, each glowing with faint green runes.

A low vibration pulsed through the floor beneath their feet.

They all looked at each other.

"Of course it's not over," Jisoo muttered, dragging herself upright.

Yujin stretched her wings once before they fully faded. "You think they'll give us time to rest?"

"Nope," Jin said flatly.

Then the light above shifted again.

The system hadn't spoken its next challenge yet.

But it was coming.