There was a reason why the first exit town in Sector Four was called . It was where the Fourthers would begin their pilgrimage. No one knew who had started tradition, but now it was almost socially mandatory.

  Every Fourther would take a solemn walk in quiet reverence for what had once been.

  To march upon the bones of long dead civilizations, upon the battlefields where thousands of Settlers had died trying to stop each other from evolving their class.

  When you marched in the dead gray lands, when you fought the nightmares that dying civilizations had dreamed up, you would be reminded of one key fact:

  Now any that ignored the pilgrimage would be shunned. You allowed to use the portals between the two cities, but at one point or another, it was expected for you to walk through the blasted lands of Sector Four.

  Of course all of that nonsense had nothing to do with him.

  An arrogant elf stood atop a gray bird, mocking all the traditions that had clearly been set up by the Witch Tyrant. Elf and bird soared through the sky, in the middle of a vast moving cloud. Cerul with gray camouflaged feathers edged away from a much larger monstrous figure next to it.

  Apparently Cerulean crows had another scouting ability beyond their droppings. Cerul could tell that the monster next to it had eaten plenty of its kin. It had been hiding nearby, feathers camouflaged amongst the rubble, not willing to come closer to the monster.

  Even Pinkie had taken several hours of searching before she found the crow. The Cerulean crow had squawked in fear before getting snatched up by Pinkie’s monstrous claws.

  Pinkie was in her draconic form, three times larger than Cerul–as large as a commercial airliner–and it was . It looked like someone took a dragon, made it slightly more humanoid, gave it hands with clawtips, put in some massive tailspikes and added multiple rows of teeth.

  Because a real dragon was apparently not scary enough.

  Pinkie flexed mid-flight, her scaled thigh rippling with muscles. One massive eye flicked to him and Cerul shuddered beneath him.

  The half-dragon grinned, rows of sharp teeth glinting out at him. “Well? Are you regretting rejecting me yet?”

  “Yes, that is what I’m thinking about right now.”

  They had been traveling through Sector Four at a leisurely pace. Pinkie was completely unafraid of any lurking dragonslayers and said that there actually weren’t any actually out and about.

  Ryan scratched his neck.

  “Getting the feeling I was a little bit paranoid about sweeping dragonslayers.”

  “They’re not stupid. Now that they’ve seen a real glimpse of the Witch, they know better than to wander near a predator.” Pinkie chuckled, “The smart ones anyway. You always have the idiots that think she’s some sort of beacon of righteousness."

  “Well what does that make us?”

  Pinkie went unusually silent on that. Ryan had been expecting some sort of a joke or a quip back. He still didn’t have a clear read on the draconic dragonslayer. Sometimes she acted like Gamielle and at other times a feral animal. Right now she was completely calm, letting him take control of the flow of things.

  Like listening to him when he asked for her to fetch some powerful speakers. Pinkie hadn’t even made a joke and flew to Morteles and had come back in record time.

  They hovered in the air, apparently near the city of Defiance. Ryan couldn’t see anything through the thick cloud they were in.

  “Have they started announcing the teams yet?”

  Pinkie had no trouble seeing through her own stormcloud. “No, it’s still just the opening ceremony–Gamielle’s there. She shouldn’t be here.”

  Suddenly Pinkie looked nervous again. Her eyes were laser focused on tracking something far in the distance.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Gamielle’s not allowed in Sector Four. Maybe it’s the Witch Tyrant’s illusion. No, no, she would not do that. No, no cannot think like that with her.”

  The muttering unnerved Cerul just as much as Ryan. It made the crow edge away a little more, looking at the gray cloud as if wondering if it could pierce through it. Cerul turned its beady eyes on Ryan.

  He just patted the crow on the back.

  “Hey, at least Gamielle is there right? Besides, I’m pretty sure if you tried to fly off, Pinkie would take a bite.”

  “Rrrbb.”

  The pathetic warble from Cerul said that it very much regretted agreeing to Ryan’s deal.

  “They’re introducing the Fourthers.”

  “”

  –

  The Fourther Tournament had started during the Golden generation. When the Tyrants had sat down and started plotting the trajectories of adventurers. There they found a glaring problem. While the average adventurer group was getting stronger, and more of them were climbing with their safety lives intact, there were no standouts.

  No monsters like One-eyed Rick, Kedark the [Bloodstained Warlord] and Zahiru the Settler Swordfront.

  The best of the best were barely coming close to people like Seffara the Sapphire and Barry the [Berserker].

  One of their solutions to this problem had been the Fourther Tournament.

  Now this tournament happened every two to four years. It created fierce competitions, forged sky high ambitions and forced the most talented to really push their limits. With a Tyrant overseeing the competition, the [Strongest in the Fourth Realm] titles would pop up nearly every other tournament.

  While [Strongest in the Fourth Realm] was no [Undisputed Apex of the Fourth Realm]. It automatically meant that the adventurer would get an S+ achievement score their class evolution. This tournament looked to be one of the most special ones yet.

  The Fifth Trial would be reserved for the tournament winner, and it would coincide with the Highest Trial attempt. Forcing a Trial adaptation no matter what. Not only that, the Witch Tyrant had come out of her retirement to host the event publicly.

  But none of that was as special as the announcer. Never before had the great and beautiful Gamielle ever announced a tournament before.

  She was going to make it a fun one.

  Normally, adventurers and their teams would be announced at random. That had been without her of course, she had other plans.

  Gamielle basked in the publicity as she extended her sight across the city, flying high above it all. She wasn’t allowed to extend her sight past the city, but she knew he was there, waiting to make an entrance. Waiting for this moment.

  Ryan had to have known it was a trap. It was the most obvious trap in the world. She had told him that her mother was limited in her actions against him, not if she wanted to preserve his continued growth.

  But if he chose to walk into a trap?

  Gamielle knew he’d come. Because Ryan was a greedy idiot that secretly believed in doing the right thing, even if it meant risking it all.

  So, she could do nothing else but support him. Gamielle shook things up and introduced the competitors in order of strength. From the weakest of adventurers to the strongest of them. She shouted individuals and their teams to the roaring crowd of hundreds of thousands in the stadium. Their faces taking up massive magical projections that showed every nervous detail and tic.

  To her annoyance, Fighting Fancy had some of the loudest cheers from the stadium. They had claimed to have caused chaos in Artigan’s trials, scattering the fight and stealing the kill on the Demon King.

  Neither Mahjit nor Zedart had refuted those claims and their popularity had skyrocketed. They were the second most popular adventurers in the fourth realm.

  Which right now meant that their popularity eclipsed every other adventurer other than one.

  Even Gamielle was forced to admit that the mediocre team was looking slightly less mediocre after their recent realm upgrades. Though, with no time to settle in the Fourth realm, they were going to get their asses kicked. She was at least going to enjoy that.

  Now came the introductions to those that were a bit better than mediocre. She waved her hand towards the projectors that she was directing herself.

  “Annnd introduuuucing the crowd favorites!”

  The camera panned to a handsome human in distinguished, spellweave robes. A tome in one hand and a wand in the other.

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  “Slyfus!” She let the roars take up the stadium for a good moment, “A rare [Mage] competitor in the top four! Just finished a year at the Institute of Magic with top marks and was noted by the Archmage Tyrant himself!”

  The roars went louder.

  The proud smile by the barely passable [Mage] annoyed her, so Gamielle added a little extra.

  “Rumoured to have learned a compartmentalized, highs-speed fifth tier spell, just for the tournament!”

  The smile froze on the [Mage’s] face. Gamielle could see his eyes shift to her in the air, wondering how she knew. Slyfus started breaking out in a cold sweat.

  Gamielle moved on. The magical scrying she was directing switched to a ferocious looking dwarf. He held cleavers in both hands with an outfit a [Berserker] might wear. It was stained in fresh blood.

  “And here’s the tournament’s dark horse. Goreblatt!”

  An overwhelming round of boos were thrown at the dwarf. He put a finger in his ear and started digging. Like the crowd didn’t bother him. The Realmers absolutely hated this one.

  “Infamous for openly taking the demonic path and his conflict with the Leafstalkers. He walks the path solo and very few, if any, know of his skills. A dark horse to look out for, for sure!”

  There were plenty of “Go back to your own world!” shouts from the Realmers in the stands. Goreblatt turned around and flipped them all off, causing the crowd to go even further into a frenzy.

  A demonic path would instantly make you unpopular amongst the Realmers. What really drove the hatred towards Goreblatt, however, was the fact that he had actually killed a Realmer. An overzealous leafstalker had tried to assassinate him, and he had killed them in turn. While it was labeled as self-defence, nobody knew for sure if Goreblatt had truly needed to kill the young Leafstalker.

  Gamielle of course knew.

  “You can see that his outfit fits his path very well. What you all don’t know is that Goreblatt carries around pig’s blood just to complete his look!”

  The crowd started laughing and jeering at Goreblatt. The dwarf did his best not to let the sudden interruption get to him. Instead he glared up at the lying Gamielle, infusing a bit of aura into his look. Gamielle smirked

  Then she shifted the camera to the next one. This was a human in a simple, rogue’s outfit. Almost designed to look like casual wear. Fitted with enchanted knives, two shortswords and an enchanted crossbow. He bowed slightly to the camera and at her.

  The crowd went wild at one of their favorites.

  “Here is the favorite to win the tournament!”

  The [Rogue] took it on the chin and just smiled humbly, Gamielle had thought there was more insecurity there given how he seemed to throw himself at scouting Juniper. Gamielle had tried to throw him off by insulting him at the start instead of the end.

  It hadn’t worked. So she was going to be nice.

  “Shadowstrider! A bold name indeed! Models himself after the Shadow Tyrant. Truly if it were any other tournament, Shadowstrider would be a clear favorite!”

  Gamielle let the crowd go wild over her endorsement. It was a real assessment. Shadowstrider was better than mediocre, good even.

  Unfortunately this was the wrong tournament to be competing in.

  Finally, the camera moved to an elf in light armor. The crowd truly did go wild then. Five spears were held in a holster on her back. A small buckler was tied to her left arm and she held a greatsword hoisted over her shoulder.

  Gamielle decided to give this one a proper introduction.

  “As it so often happens. Once in a while, multiple talents rise up. As if plucked by fate or the Trial System itself, they are placed in each others’ way. To truly pit themselves against each other. To let their rivals be the whetstone upon which they could sharpen themselves.”

  She paused.

  “Having delved four miles down the Cataclysm Abyss with her team. Having developed a minor mana core alongside maximizing her [Warrior] skills. Having cleared a system portal enhanced monster in a leveled zone at realm three. She has earned herself a moniker. Out of everyone standing before me, this is the clear favorite. Iiiiiiiit’s–”

  The crowd kept up their cheers.

  “JUNIPER THE FAIR HEARTED!”

  Fireworks exploded in the sky, forming the shape of a dragon. Streamers of lights sparkled throughout the tournament startling the Fourther. Everyone, everywhere, across two worlds were focused on the peerless elf as she took the stage.

  This was over the top and not how the announcement normally went. Never had an announcer so clearly declared a winner and showed favorites.

  What most of the crowd didn’t notice was how Juniper held her greatsword ever so tightly.

  Gamielle smirked.

  Juniper wasn’t like Valee or Zedart. She hadn’t competed in many tournaments before this, and definitely not with a real crowd watching. She had barely been good enough to receive one of her family’s sponsorship slots. Before she became an adventurer, Juniper hadn’t seemed like anything special.

  Then she started clearing Trials in record time, blitzing them with a team that she carried through both tactics and talent. Getting offered amazing skills like the Trial System favored her.

  You got people like these from time to time. People like Ryan, where they didn’t seem like much going in, but then started thriving in The Realm. Crushing everything at their levels with almost contemptuous ease.

  As if they were born to ascend the Trial System.

  Juniper was like that. Her team was more of an anchor that she carried, by making up for their deficiencies, she had boosted her own achievement score. In that sense she was very much like Mezhar. Though unlike Mezhar, Gamielle doubted they’d be able to stick together.

  Even Mezhar hadn’t been able to keep his original team intact.

  When Juniper evolved her class, her team would have to do the sensible thing and step back.

  Gamielle let the poor [Warrior] suffer under the scrutiny of two worlds for twenty more seconds. Then she flipped the camera back on herself.

  “Aaaand that’s the competitors. Witch Tyrant, do you have any words of encouragement for the competitors and The Realm?”

  The camera panned to the sitting Tyrant overlooking the entire audience. Her cold expression on the camera quietened everyone that was watching. This was her first public appearance and the world was realizing that she may have changed in the two decades she had been gone.

  Then the Witch Tyrant looked up.

  Gamielle blinked, and she looked up, so did the entirety of the stadium. The camera followed and the mic caught her words.

  “”

  Up above in the sky, beyond the invisible city barrier, in a Sector where there was only dark gray clouds. An enormous stormcloud was starting to descend. The lightning roiling inside wasn’t gray like the other stormclouds that formed in Sector Four.

  It was pink.

  Drumbeats started echoing out of the stormclouds. Drums of war, the start of a very familiar phase two of a four part theme song.

  Gamielle turned her horrified gaze at her mother. The Witch Tyrant’s eye flickered down at her, and she gave her daughter a small smile.

  A voice whispered in Gamielle’s ear.

  The stormcloud descended as everyone in the stadium, no, in the city of Defiance began to scream in mortal fear. Gamielle split the projection in two. One half showing the Witch Tyrant’s calm face, and the other showing the impact.

  The pink and black stormcloud slammed into the invisible city barrier. Roiling pink lightning scattering in all directions as the misty cloud washed down the barrier, spreading black mist in all directions of the city.

  The music was deafening now, the drumbeats and the violins rising in tempo.

  The scene cleared, and in the center, above the city barriers. Where the stormcloud first made contact with the city barrier were three creatures.

  An enormous draconic monster in iridescent scales, eyes flashing with pink thunder. A sea-green trident in one of its hands. It looked down at the people of the city that it could kill in one breath.

  Next to it was a juvenile Cerulean Crow. The one people recognized as having stolen Lazhen’s system portal.

  Standing on top of it was the person that had caused the downfall of Lazhen. He had his hands held behind his back. Black robes fluttering behind him on unknown winds. A cracked sword on his belt. The elf’s silver hair flowed behind him as he looked down on the city.

  Gamielle gritted her teeth and zoomed in on Artigan.

  Just as the song was about to hit phase three Artigan took out Felsley’s phone and paused it.

  Then he looked down at the Witch Tyrant and gave a deep bow. His voice echoed throughout the city without needing her help.

  “Witch Tyrant! It is a true shame that with all the talents lined up here, that they have no chance to obtain the [Strongest in the Fourth Realm] title.”

  Artigan turned to the rest of the crowd.

  “As long as I do not participate, the question Were any of these talents capable of defeating me?”

  Artigan flared his aura,

  The [Mage] paled and faltered, the [Demonic Butcher] took a step back, the [Rogue] gripped his crossbow tightly, the [Warrior] took in a breath but looked determined.

  Artigan standing on top of Cerul looked down on them all.

  “Instead of a farce of a tournament where the highest title is not granted. I implore you, Witch Tyrant, to give these Fourthers a chance. I will accept any format you wish against any and all of the Fourthers gathered here.”

  If Artigan were to flee or get killed by the dragonslayers or the Witch Tyrant, then none of the contestants here would get the title here today. Not one of the dragonslayers in the vip booths dared to move. They saw Pinkie staring at each and every one of them and knew that the first to go up would die.

  Plus, Artigan did have a point. Everyone turned to the Witch Tyrant.

  It wasn’t… the worst of gambles. If you thought the Witch Tyrant was helping you on your way, if you thought she would play along with the farce. If you thought that the Witch Tyrant was happy to help you advance in a regular manner.

  The Witch Tyrant smiled.

  “I have always believed that brave fools should be rewarded. That they should be constantly tested to hone that ability. To walk that rope between bravery and foolishness.” She paused, as if considering her options. “Perhaps we could do a tournament unlike any other. One where we could pit all the Fourthers in a battle royale and see who claims victory. Or to make it more fair, we could do a festival where we throw all of the Fourthers down the Cataclysm Abyss and the furthest one gets will be declared the obvious winner.”

  The Witch Tyrant sneered.

  Hundreds of spell circles opened up around Cerul and Pinkie in an instant. Each of them throwing five to ten silken threads.

  Pinkie began swinging before most of the circles finished forming. A swing of her trident shattering hundreds of spell circles, her tail shattering hundreds more. She roared and spat a cone of pink lightning all around her to cut the rest of the reaching silken threads.

  Three orbs of light teleported as close as they could to her. The Witch Tyrant’s orb relics began to shoot a barrage of lights. All aimed to kill.

  Pinkie dove, giving up on shattering the spell circles, and leaving Artigan and the crow to get entrapped. She blew another round of thunderous dragonbreath.

  This time, on the city barrier.

  Gamielle’s eyes went wide as the city barrier started rapidly draining. Her mother just watched with apathy, more focused on seriously trying to hit the dragon out of the skies. Gamielle understood instantly.

  This was her mother’s trap, not just for Ryan and Pinkie but for her too. Gamielle would have to focus on the barriers, stopping her daughter from scheming against her. She could not flee, she did not dare to play chicken with her mother on whether she was truly willing to throw away millions of Realmer lives.

  She threw out a telekinetic message.

  But Pinkie ignored it. The crazy bitch was weaving in and out while constantly breathing thunderous dragonfire over the city barriers.

  Gamielle, with no choice, started reinforcing the barrier herself, improving the enchantments as she refilled the barrier’s reserves. Personalizing it to her own mana and adding a layer that would ground the lightning instead.

  Those that had some modicum of skill in seeing mana flows just stared at the floating announcer in awe. Slyfus was slack-jawed, he was in absolute disbelief at seeing something he didn’t know was possible.

  It was a work of high speed art, if Gamielle were to say so herself, the pink dragonbreath started cascading down the sides of the barriers, scattering into the ground outside of the city barriers. Pinkie snapped her teeth in annoyance and flew high into the skies, dodging every single beam of light with impossible grace and fluidity. Then her wings unfurled as spell circles started to form underneath her wings.

  Pinkie’s voice reverberated the world around them.

  “Release Artigan or The Realm will see a bombardment unlike any other.

  The Witch Tyrant just clicked her tongue and sighed. She glanced at some of the other vip booths.

  “That creature offends my sensibilities. She is an adventurer shapeshifted with the base of the dragon, Wellarrioussa. The first dragonslayer to bring me their head may publicly request one reasonable thing from me.”

  And the tournament began.

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