Noah glanced up from his badge and over to Brayden. The other man held his badge up. It was still pitch black. He hadn’t been chosen. Lee’s badge was similarly dark. Noah was going into this round alone. In some ways, that was probably for the best.

It was a lot easier to make an impact when he didn’t have to worry about anyone around him.

“You’re up, huh?” Brayden asked, noticing the glow coming from Noah’s rune. “Good luck. Don’t do anything too crazy. And remember to pace yourself. Making a point is important, but so is actually getting far enough in the tournament to spread your name around. Paint too big of a target on yourself and someone’s going to come and try to shoot it.”

“Sage advice,” Noah said. “Thank you.”

“Have fun,” Lee said. She looked over to him, and some of the typical amusement in her features faded away as her eyes turned serious. “Don’t die. It would suck if you did.”

Everyone other than Fist knew exactly what Lee meant. The warning had absolutely nothing to do with her being concerned for Noah’s current health. Even if they weren’t in Obsidia anymore, Sunder’s powers almost certainly weren’t going to be commonplace. If people here found out what he was capable of… it wasn’t going to end well for anyone.

Noah just gave Lee a grim nod. He had absolutely no plans of breaking his no-death streak for something as simple as a tournament, and especially not so early into one. This was just an elimination stage. His problem had absolutely nothing at all to do with surviving.

But the time for thought was over.

Noah pressed his hand into the badge. There was a crackle of molten green energy. His skin tingled furiously as the power encased him in a cocoon. And then, for an awkward moment, nothing at all happened. He simply stood there enveloped by a churning storm of magical power.

It almost seemed as if the badge was somehow failing. A confused frown had just started to cross over his features before there was a sharp pop and the pressure in his ears changed abruptly. The ground fell out from beneath his feet, only for it to be replaced by stone an instant later.

A distant roar prickled against his ears. All the magic around him dissipated with a reluctant hiss akin to the air slipping free of a balloon, and Noah found himself standing a short distance away from the edge of the arena. Other mages dotted the battlegrounds all around him. By the looks of things, he’d been one of the last ones to arrive.

An enormous crowd stretched about as far as he could see in every direction above him. Their noise was far louder here than it had been within the room. Even though magic still muted the sound, the roar of the eager spectators was more than capable of making it all the way down to the arena floor.

Faint confusion still pulled at the back of Noah’s thoughts. Something about his transport here felt odd. The magic definitely hadn’t taken that long to swallow up Fist. He looked down at his hand and flexed his fingers. Even now, the air around him felt a bit off.

But Noah couldn’t put a pin into exactly what didn’t quite fit. It just… didn’t.

He pushed those thoughts away. There was no time for them right now. Maybe his badge was just old or slightly malfunctioning. It probably didn’t matter too much. Deep down, Noah got the feeling there was probably a bit more to it. This just wasn’t the time to go wondering if the Mistress had gone and cursed his badge somehow.

Baun was yelling something to the crowds far above, hyping up the next round. Nothing he was saying was of any real interest. All that mattered was that the ten minute countdown leading up to the fight was going to start soon. And, unfortunately, Noah still hadn’t figured out exactly what his best angle would be.

Some of the people around him had already started shifting into groups. Some clearly knew each other, while others were just seeking the backing of anyone that happened to be close and friendly-enough looking. That was one thing Noah had zero plans at all of doing.

Nobody was going to be making a name for themselves by joining up with a bunch of other mages. This might have just been a melee stage, but the tournament had already begun. That meant he was going to have to be on his best behavior.

Noah shifted his stance. The frown behind his mask grew deeper. Something still felt wrong. The air around him felt a bit heavier than it should have been. Aqua Terra’s repression against sensing anyone else’s domain also still seemed to be in effect, but this wasn’t it.

He shook his head. The roar of the crowd seemed to be getting louder. He rubbed his eyes, grinding his teeth together as he looked up to the sky — only to find that the counter was already there.

Baun had started the countdown at some point. But, more than that, two minutes had already passed. The counter was already at 8 minutes remaining. A flicker of confusion cut through Noah’s thoughts. He definitely hadn’t been standing around for that long. He pulled his gaze back down to the arena floor around him.

Then his frown grew even deeper. Several large groups milled about him. They’d all turned their backs to each other to cast suspicious glances out at the outsiders, preparing for an attack. But that couldn’t have been right. Everyone had only just been gathering and figuring out their alliances a moment ago.

Forming a cohesive group so quickly didn’t make sense, especially since a number of the mages definitely didn’t know each other.

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What the hell is going on?

Noah shook his head firmly. At the end of the day, this changed nothing. He hadn’t been planning on joining a group in the first place. If anything, people grouping up just made things easier for him. Nobody was going to make much of a name for themselves if they didn’t knock at least a few mages out of the competition in the first round.

Having his opponents in groups would just make it easier to wipe out large numbers of them at once. After all… nobody truly powerful was really all that likely to join up with a bunch of weaker mages.

It was going to be the smaller groups and individual mages that held the highest chance of being real threats. But fortunately for Noah, there were precious few of those around him. Nearly everyone was part of a team of somewhere around 10 or 11 people.

He only spotted a single other solo mage in the area around him.

An odd feeling prickled against Noah’s scalp. It was really quite odd. He’d never been one to feel all that much stage fright. Especially not after everything he’d pulled in Arbalest. But Noah wasn’t sure what the feeling was. It didn’t really feel like fear. He just didn’t know what else it could have possibly been.

It doesn’t matter. I think the best way I could possibly put on a show without actually revealing more power than I want to…

Noah extended his hand. A shimmer of magical energy raced down his arm, and his violin materialized within his grip. The instrument’s bow appeared in his other hand. Noah placed it against the strings, drawing in a deep breath as he stilled his mind and pushed away every thought but—

The timer read 4 minutes.

Confusion assailed his thoughts.

What? That isn’t possible. There’s no way I’ve been just standing around here for that long. It’s been literally seconds! What is happening to me?

Noah squinted at the timer, challenging the seconds to tick by faster.

They didn’t.

Time was moving as it should have been. And, unfortunately, there was nowhere near enough time for him to risk wasting to figure out what was happening. Maybe Baun had mentioned something about skipping ahead if people formed their teams early or something along those lines.

Four minutes was more than enough for him to form a Formation. But if he somehow lost even more time, then there was a chance the tournament would just start before he even realized what was happening. Noah blew out a sharp breath. He stilled all his thoughts. Narrowed his eyes.

Then he pulled the bow across his violin’s strings and begun to play.

***

“…and what of this round?”

Vivian blinked. She glanced away from the arenas far below her viewing box as the timer ticked closer and closer to zero.

Sitting at a table all around her were the other Faction heads — or, at least, the ones who had been bothered to attend the Tournament of Heaven’s Path.

The Imperator of Man was staring right at her. His lips were pulled up into a faint grin upon his sun-weathered skin. Magical energy shimmered across his heavy bronze armor and the massive, dual-headed axe strapped to his back.

A flicker of annoyance passed through Vivian. Every other one of the Faction Heads had left their weapons and armor back in their rooms. He was the only one who had shown up as if prepared for a battle himself. It didn’t go against the exact rules of the tournament, but it was certainly a show of disrespect.

“I was distracted watching the tournament,” Vivian said. “What was that?”

“I was simply asking if you had anyone you favor this round,” the Imperator of Man replied. He interlaced his gauntleted fingers with the faint click of metal on metal. “There were certainly a few interesting showings in the previous one. I just couldn’t help but notice that none of them seemed to be from your Empire.”

“Our strongest warriors have not yet gone up,” Vivian said smoothly. The Imperator was fishing for ways to antagonize her. Again. “But I will agree that there were a great deal of impressive showings. As for this round… our best warriors are still not yet selected.”

“Shame,” the Monarch of Obsidian Gate said, her voice little more than a whisper beneath her hood. “What of you, Imperator? Is there anyone we should watch from your court?”

“Not this round,” the Imperator replied with a shake of his head. “Sounds like we might want to be keeping our expectations tempered. We can’t expect every round to go like the last one. That fire mage… she was something, wouldn’t you say? Looks like she might make it far.”

“The ice one was similarly competent,” the Monarch whispered. “I would recruit her should she progress far enough and demonstrate more ability. Her energy fits what I seek.”

“Of course you would,” the Imperator said with a snort. “And what of you, Prophet? Have you taken a liking to anyone?”

Vivian shook her head mutely. “No. I have not. I host this tournament out of respect and to demonstrate the power of my empire. I am not keen to take on a charge.”

“That’s because you’re looking at it wrong. You’re treating this like… I don’t know. Like they’re going to be your student.” The Imperator shook his head, then gestured vaguely in the air. “I’d think of it more as a test run with benefits.”

“That would be why your Faction has the greatest rate of desertion amongst them all,” the Monarch said.

“Like you’re one to talk.” The Imperator turned to the other woman and sent an accusatory look in her direction. “If we’re going to be bringing up sore spots, then need I mention the little incident from 50 years ago?”

Vivian tuned them out. There was no point getting caught up in the conversation. It wasn’t real. Not a single one of them was paying any attention to anything happening in this room. They were all more than capable of splitting their true attention in multiple directions at once. This whole conversation was nothing but air and empty words to cover the fact that they were all actively trying to figure out how the other factions’ capabilities had changed.

Each of them were likely communicating mentally with their respective agents while hoping that one of the others would accidentally slip up and reveal too much information. Vivian simply didn’t have the energy to bother with the games. If the Imperator and the Monarch wanted to keep it up for the rest of them on their own, then she welcomed them to.

She was a bit too preoccupied at the moment.

Because, while everyone else in the room was vying for power, Vivian’s mind was entirely preoccupied on keeping the fear and disbelief tearing havoc in her thoughts from showing through. She’d been doing a great job of it so far.

Not one person had caught on.

They didn’t have the senses to know why to be scared.

But Vivian did. And she, unlike every other Faction Head in the room, knew that somebody had called upon the Beyond. They were actively calling on the Beyond — and if she so much as uttered a word of it or split enough of her attention away to try and trace the source, she’d leave herself wide open.

If the other Faction Heads realize there might be another Rank 8 entity in my Empire using my own magic… no. I can’t allow that to happen. I can’t act. Not when they’re all watching so closely.

The old monster had finally reared its head at the very center of her empire… and there was nothing she could do but sit and hope it ate her enemies first.