The clouds finally settled.

  No lightning, no roaring, no flying teeth — just quiet air and three exhausted adventurers staring at the empty sky.

  Then, as expected, the familiar chime echoed through the mist.

  A pedestal rose from below, carrying a single glowing gem.

  The Maze pulsed.

  Trial complete. Reward pending. Survivors: All (miraculously).

  Bert limped forward. “Ah, the traditional victory crystal. Always a pleasure.”

  Leo rubbed his temple. “Hold up. We should talk about who gets it.”

  Harlada crossed her arms. “For once, I agree. Distribution of rewards is part of proper party balance.”

  Bert blinked. “We have balance?”

  “Barely,” Leo said. “But we’re working on it.”

  He glanced at Harlada. “You got the last one. Lightning resistance plus wind powers. You’re fine.”

  “Flattering,” she said.

  “Leo already tanks lightning and gravity by accident,” Harlada added. “That leaves Bert.”

  Bert pointed at himself. “Me? Really?”

  Leo nodded. “You’re always up front. You throw yourself into danger. You literally body-checked a shark out of existence.”

  Bert smiled proudly. “So… I’m the tank?”

  Harlada smirked. “By definition: yes. The durable idiot who gets hit first.”

  Bert thought for a moment, then nodded solemnly. “I can live with that.”

  The Maze pulsed, curious.

  Decision logged. Reward assignment: Confirmed.

  Bert placed a hand on the gem. It flared bright gold, light rippling across his body like a warm shiver.

  The Maze pulsed again.

  Stat increased: +10 HP. Confidence increased: Irritatingly.

  Bert flexed. “I feel… chunkier.”

  Leo grinned. “Good. Maybe this time you’ll survive five seconds longer.”

  Harlada floated beside them, inspecting the fading pedestal. “Or just die louder.”

  The Maze pulsed, amused.

  Both outcomes statistically likely.

  For a brief moment, all three of them just stood there — tired, bruised, but alive.

  Leo exhaled. “We’re actually improving.”

  Bert grinned. “Yeah. Scary, isn’t it?”

  The Maze pulsed, quietly uneasy.

  Player efficiency: Rising. Adjustments recommended.

  ***

  The next door loomed larger than the rest — ornate, heavy, and humming faintly with suppressed menace.

  Leo leaned forward, brushing off the dust. “Miniboss door.”

  Bert squinted. “How can you tell?”

  “It’s smug,” Harlada said. “Regular doors don’t hum at you.”

  The Maze pulsed.

  Classification: Miniboss confirmed. Difficulty: Pending player hubris.

  They leaned toward the small peephole embedded in the stone.

  Inside, faint light shimmered over a wide, misty pond. The water barely rippled.

  Then they saw them.

  Three enormous turtles — easily the size of carts — drifted lazily across the pool, snapping their jaws every few seconds with the slow rhythm of creatures that had all the time in the world.

  Bert blinked. “They’re turtles.”

  Harlada frowned. “That’s it? Turtles?”

  Leo nodded. “Finally, something reasonable.”

  The Maze pulsed, suspiciously quiet.

  They watched the creatures for a while. None of them moved quickly. One even yawned — slowly, like it was considering taking a nap halfway through.

  Harlada leaned closer. “They don’t seem very dangerous.”

  Leo smirked. “After flying sharks? I’ll take slow and sleepy.”

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  Bert, still watching, shook his head. “Don’t underestimate them.”

  Harlada raised an eyebrow. “Why? They look half-dead.”

  “They’re snapping turtles,” Bert said. “They bite with the force of a small cannon.”

  Leo blinked. “You’re kidding.”

  “Nope,” Bert said. “Their jaws can shatter bone. Or helmets. Or self-esteem.”

  The Maze pulsed, pleased.

  Threat clarification accepted. Average bite force: 1,200 PSI. Optional setting: Fun.

  Harlada stepped back from the peephole. “So. Slow, heavily armored, capable of instant decapitation.”

  Leo sighed. “Perfect. Another relaxing day in the Maze.”

  Bert smiled faintly. “At least they don’t fly.”

  The Maze pulsed again, quietly amused.

  Do not tempt innovation.

  ***

  The door rumbled open with the usual sense of overconfidence.

  They stepped into the wide, misty chamber. The pond stretched out before them, calm as glass, with three massive turtles sunning themselves on floating stones.

  The creatures turned their heads slightly — very slowly — as if acknowledging the newcomers with polite apathy.

  Bert pointed. “See? Snapping turtles.”

  Harlada tilted her head. “They look… manageable.”

  Leo nodded. “Stay behind the head. They can’t reach their backs.”

  “Seriously?” Harlada asked. “That’s it?”

  “Physics,” Leo said. “Nature didn’t design them for aerial combat.”

  Bert grinned. “Finally, our kind of fight.”

  The Maze pulsed, curious.

  Battle phase initiated. Expectation: Moderate chaos.

  They approached the nearest turtle cautiously.

  It hissed slowly, jaws opening wide enough to fit a small disaster inside.

  Leo gestured. “Push from the side, stay clear of the mouth.”

  Bert nodded, then braced himself, planting his feet against the shell. With one heave, he tipped the creature onto its back.

  It waved its legs helplessly in the air, shell wobbling like a stranded boulder.

  Harlada blinked. “That… worked?”

  Bert shrugged. “Gravity’s undefeated.”

  The Maze pulsed, unimpressed.

  Turtle one incapacitated. Combat drama: None.

  They moved on to the second. Same method. Same result.

  The third tried to hiss threateningly, but halfway through the sound it, too, found itself gently rotated by teamwork and inevitability.

  Three enormous turtles now flailed quietly on their backs, powerless and extremely annoyed.

  The Maze pulsed again, resigned.

  Miniboss trio defeated. Fight duration: 48 seconds. Player creativity: Lazy but effective.

  Leo dusted his hands. “That was… refreshing.”

  Bert nodded. “I could get used to efficiency.”

  Harlada sighed. “Let’s not. The Maze hates it when we look competent.”

  The Maze pulsed, sulking.

  Confirmed.

  ***

  The turtles lay motionless, waving their legs like overturned furniture.

  The air went quiet again — the kind of silence that usually came before either a reward or an apology from physics.

  A soft chime echoed through the chamber.

  A pedestal rose from the mist, carrying a faintly glowing gem.

  The Maze pulsed.

  Miniboss defeated. Effort level: Minimal. Reward dispensed anyway.

  Bert cheered. “Loot time!”

  Leo held up a hand. “Wait. Before we touch anything—”

  He sighed. “We forgot to loot the last three levels.”

  Harlada frowned. “We did?”

  “Yes,” Leo said flatly. “That’s a lot of potential money, gear, and plot advancement.”

  Bert nodded solemnly. “We’re learning.”

  The Maze pulsed.

  Delayed realization detected. Achievement unlocked: Slow Learners. Reward: Shame.

  They fanned out around the turtles.

  Leo pried open one of the shells — inside were twenty coins, a few trinkets, and something heavy and metal.

  He pulled out a massive shield, engraved with swirling patterns.

  Bert’s eyes lit up. “Mine!”

  He tried to lift it. The shield barely moved.

  Harlada peeked over his shoulder. “It’s class-restricted. Only warriors can equip that.”

  Bert strained, face red. “Then I’ll be a warrior!”

  The Maze pulsed, coldly efficient.

  Class locked. User designation: Not even close.

  Leo tried to pick it up next — it immediately yanked him forward like he was wrestling a door. “Too heavy.”

  Harlada crossed her arms. “Sell it. No point keeping furniture.”

  The Maze pulsed.

  Marketplace accessed. Shield sold for 45 coins. Conversion rate: Insulting.

  With their newfound fortune, they opened the shop.

  Leo bought new boots — plain, non-enchanted, entirely boring.

  Bert grabbed a handful of potions.

  Harlada added another stack of spell components, muttering something about “actual preparation.”

  Then they turned to the reward gem.

  The Maze pulsed again, waiting.

  Attribute selection required.

  Leo placed his hand on it. “Strength.”

  Harlada followed. “Intelligence.”

  Bert grinned. “Dexterity, obviously.”

  The gem pulsed three times, glowing brighter with each touch.

  Selections confirmed. Progress recorded. Danger scaling adjusted accordingly.

  Leo exhaled. “That’s not ominous at all.”

  Harlada pocketed her new supplies. “We’re improving. Slowly.”

  Bert smiled. “So the Maze makes us stronger?”

  The Maze pulsed, smug.

  Correction: Temporarily.

  Leo stretched, testing his new boots. “Still, we’re doing better.”

  The Maze hesitated.

  Player confidence rising. Probability of humility event: High.