Chapter 139: Chapter 139: Setting the Stage

The alley swallowed them whole.

Narrow walls rose on either side, slick with condensation from overhead vents. The sounds of the main street faded into muffled background noise—hustle, bustle, chatter—replaced by the drip of water and the distant hum of the city’s mana grid.

Kael didn’t slow down. Neither did anyone else.

The three men following them weren’t subtle. Kael had sensed them the moment they’d left Nine-Star Trading House keeping exactly fifteen meters of distance. Amateur hour.

He’d given a single hand signal. The group had understood.

Now, as the followers rounded the corner into the alley, they found nothing.

Empty, dark and quiet.

"Where—"

The man’s confusion lasted exactly two seconds.

THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.

Something massive moved in the darkness behind them. Scales scraped against stone—a sound like sandpaper on glass, amplified a hundredfold. Then the light caught it.

A snake.

Twelve meters long, scales the color of midnight, eyes glowing with faint starlight. Its body coiled across the alley floor, blocking the only exit, its head raised to the height of a two-story building.

Rooley sat on the snake’s back, legs dangling, brown hair mussed, smile wide and manic.

"Hey there, friends." He waved cheerfully. "Lost?"

The three men stumbled backward, pressing against the far wall. Their faces had gone pale—understandable, given that a giant snake was literally blocking their escape.

Then Sage stepped out of the shadows.

She moved like water flowing downhill. Her hips swayed with each step. Her tails fanned out behind her, catching the dim light and turning it golden. Her lips curved into a seductive smile.

"Why were you following us?" The words came out soft. Sweet. Like honey laced with poison.

The three men went daze.

Their eyes glazed over. Their postures slackened. Whatever illusions Sage had woven around them, it was thorough—the kind of thing that made you forget where you were, who you were, everything except the voice asking questions.

One of them blurted out: "We wanted to rob you guys."

His companions didn’t even react. Completely lost.

Thump.

Rue dropped from the rooftop above, landing in a crouch between Kael and the entranced men. Her expression was disappointed—genuinely, childishly disappointed.

"How boring." She stood, brushing dust from her skirt. "They’re so weak and they wanted to rob us?"

Karacus, who’d been leaning against the wall with his arms crossed the entire time, pushed off and started walking toward the alley’s other exit. "Let’s just go."

"Wait."

Rue’s voice stopped him as an evil smile spread across her face.

She looked at Sage. Sage looked back.

A whisper passed between them as Sage’s smile widen as both of them rubbed their palms in mischief.

Kael’s stomach dropped as he suddenly had a bad premonition.

"Karacus is right," he said quickly. "We should—"

"Almost done!" Sage chirped, already turning back to the three dazed men. "Just need a few more minutes."

Kael opened his mouth.

Closed it.

Nope. Not getting involved.

Ten minutes later, the group of twelve emerged from the alley and made their way to the hotel—a gleaming tower of glass and metal that IGF had reserved for participating academies. Each student had their own room. Each room had a bed that felt like sleeping on clouds.

Kael collapsed onto his without bothering to remove his boots.

Tomorrow.

Three blocks away, three men snapped out of their daze simultaneously.

"Huh?" The leader blinked, confusion flooding his features. "Where are we?"

His companions looked equally lost—glancing around, taking in the unfamiliar street, the evening light, the—

They looked down.

Silence.

Then screaming.

"WHAT THE FUCK—"

"WHERE ARE MY CLOTHES—"

"COVER YOURSELF, COVER YOURSELF—"

They scrambled, hands flying to cover anything they could, but it was too late. A crowd had already gathered. Holographic phones were out. Pictures were being taken. Videos were recording.

"Oh my GOD—" A woman’s voice cut through the chaos. "Are those guys from the Shadow gang?!"

In a hotel room across the city, Sage Moonveil smiled at her ceiling and fell asleep.

Morning arrived with a single artificial sun rising over IGF Central.

The colosseum was grand.

No—grand wasn’t sufficient. Monumental came closer. The structure dominated the cityscape like a sleeping giant, its walls rising three hundred meters into the sky, its circumference large enough to house a small city within. Obsidian stone formed the base, reinforced with mana-infused alloys that hummed with protective wards. Above, a transparent dome of crystallized mana arched overhead, allowing natural light to filter through while maintaining perfect climate control.

Inside, the seating capacity was staggering. Hundreds of thousands of seats arranged in tiered semicircles, each one enchanted for perfect viewing regardless of position. The central arena floor stretched wide enough to accommodate entire armies—and had, according to historical records, done exactly that during the IGF’s founding wars.

Families filled the stands. Nobles. Merchants. Representatives from the big clans, their seating areas marked with banners and sigils. The Vorn family crest was visible in a premium section—black serpent coiled around a silver sword.

Security was tight. IGF soldiers in enhanced combat armor patrolled every aisle. Detection arrays swept the crowd continuously. Anyone caught using unauthorized abilities would be ejected—or worse.

Above the main seating, separated by reinforced glass, the highest floor housed the VIP section. Vice Principals and instructors from all fifteen academies sat there, alongside IGF representatives whose cultivation bases were best left unexamined. VP Dubois occupied a central position, her expression unreadable as always.

On the arena floor, fifteen platforms stood in a wide arc—each one marked with an academy’s sigil, each one holding twelve students in their designated uniforms.

The commentator’s voice boomed through enchanted speakers, filling the colosseum with professional enthusiasm.

"Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, cultivators and dignitaries, to the FIFTY-FOURTH INTER-ACADEMY TOURNAMENT!" ROAR. The crowd’s response was deafening. "Fifteen academies! One hundred and eighty of the most talented young cultivators in the known universe! Three days of competition that will determine which academy stands above all others!"

More cheering. Flags waved. Banners unfurled.

"You have TWO HOURS before the first round of competition to prepare yourselves." The commentator’s tone shifted—still energetic, but carrying an edge of seriousness. "Now, let me explain the rules of Round One."

A massive hologram flickered to life above the arena—a three-dimensional map of a landscape that made several students frown.

The terrain was horrid. Jagged mountains clawed at a sky choked with storm clouds. Lightning struck the ground in constant barrages—CRACK, BOOM, CRACK—each bolt powerful enough to kill Foundation Establishment cultivators outright. Wind currents screamed across the landscape in visible tunnels of distorted air, strong enough to tear people from their feet and hurl them into obstacles.

"The first round is an ELIMINATION round." The hologram zoomed in, showing ten glowing points scattered across the nightmare landscape. "Each academy must send seven participants through a designated region to reach their academy’s assigned exit portal. If at least FIVE of your seven participants reach the portal, your academy qualifies for the next round."

Murmuring rippled through the student platforms. The environment looked brutal.

"IMPORTANT RULES." The commentator’s voice hardened. "No weapons higher than Tier 1 may be used in this tournament. Any academy caught violating this rule will be IMMEDIATELY DISQUALIFIED. No exceptions. No appeals."

Kael felt a flicker of satisfaction. His new Tier 1 blades would be perfectly legal.

"There are ten portals total—one per qualifying academy. You must arrive at the portal at ALL COSTS. Other academies WILL attempt to stop you. Combat is expected. Combat is ENCOURAGED." A pause for effect. "Time limit: THREE HOURS. If fewer than five of your participants reach the portal before time expires, your academy is ELIMINATED."

The hologram shifted, showing the starting zones for each academy.

"All seven participants from each academy will be teleported to the designated planet simultaneously. The clock starts the moment you arrive. Survive the environment. Reach your portal. Qualify for the next round."

The commentator’s smile was audible. "Enjoy."

CRACK. A massive lightning bolt illuminated the hologram landscape, making several students flinch.

The platforms dissolved into controlled chaos—students turning to their captains, discussions breaking out, strategies being debated.

A tap on Kael’s shoulder.

He turned. Isabella stood behind him, expression calm but eyes sharp.

"Thalia and Marcus are here." She nodded upward toward the VIP section. "Along with one of the Blades."

Kael’s gaze followed her gesture. There—in the Vorn family seating area—two familiar figures. Thalia Vorn, his third sister, elegant as always in formal black. And beside her, Marcus Vorn, his expression already twisted into something unpleasant.

A man in dark armor stood behind them—Blade No. 11, face obscured by a standard-issue mask.

Kael smiled.

"Then we better not keep our siblings waiting." He started forward, then paused. His eyes had found something else.

Near the Imperial Academy platform, Rooley was bouncing on his heels, grinning like an idiot, chatting animatedly with—

Silas Slanders.

The older Slanders sibling stood with her usual composed demeanor, brown hair catching the artificial light, frozen-lake eyes warm in a way Kael had rarely seen. Her summoned snake—different from Rooley’s starlight fox—coiled lazily at her feet.

"Hey." Aria appeared at Kael’s side, following his gaze. "Isn’t that—"

"Silas." Kael was already moving. "Yeah. Let’s go say hi."

Rue materialized from somewhere—not literally, though with her it was hard to tell. "Where are you going, captain?"

"To greet an old friend."

Sage fell into step immediately. "Don’t leave me out."

The three of them approached the Imperial Academy platform’s edge, where a thin barrier separated the academies. Silas noticed them coming and excused herself from Rooley, meeting them at the boundary.

"Kael." Her smile was genuine—rare for her. "It’s good to see you again."

"You too." Kael glanced at the Imperial Academy students behind Silas, then back. "You didn’t tell me you were a rival academy student."

"Didn’t come up." Silas shrugged. "And you too, Aria." His gaze softened slightly. "Glad you’re still alive."

"Thanks to you, partially." Aria’s voice carried unusual warmth. "That water demon would have killed us otherwise."

"And Rue." Silas nodded to the fox-kin, who was smiling. "Your has improved. I can see it in your aura."

Rue preened. "Thank you! I’ve been practicing—"

"They’re really going at it," Sage muttered to Kael. "Should we be concerned?"

"Let them have their moment."

The conversation continued—casual, friendly, the easy rapport of people who’d fought beside each other in life-or-death situations. Silas shared a few details about Imperial Academy’s team. Kael returned the favor with vague generalities. Aria and Rue caught up on Summoner Guild politics.

After ten minutes, Kael clapped Silas on the shoulder.

"Good luck in the tournament. Try not to die before we can have a proper rematch."

"Same to you." Silas’s frozen-lake eyes gleamed. "Though I suspect you’ll need less luck than most."

Kael laughed and stepped away, gesturing for the girls to follow.

"Where are you going now?" Rue asked.

Kael’s smile didn’t reach his eyes.

"Upstairs. To see my so-called family."