Chapter 92: The Second Competition

  The following day, Micromegas announced the start of the second competition. Speaking from his high box to the adepts gathered in the arena, he didn't waste words.

  "You should know that in this next trial, your lives will be at stake, and no help will come if you falter. If you do not accept this risk, you may choose not to participate."

  He was met with nothing but silence and a few glances exchanged between the adepts. The Voivode of the 60th Dimension waited for a long moment before accepting the result with satisfaction.

  "Very well. As long as you live and wish to fight, you have a chance to improve your pathetic existence and earn the great honor of the King of Names and Symbols' approval."

  His gaze swept across the dozens of devils who had arrived from various dimensions. The spots of the adepts who had perished in the previous trial had been filled by new participants. As long as they had taken part in the last Hellish Pilgrimage, they were eligible to replace the fallen.

  High above the arena, four massive, rectangular crystals had been mounted, though they remained inactive for now. Justinian had previously seen similar ones stationed throughout the city. In the very center of the arena, a large expanse of space had been cleared, clearly intended for the upcoming competition.

  Micromegas continued his announcement.

  "The second competition is an opportunity to grow stronger before the final battles. If you do not take advantage of it, your deaths will be well-deserved."

  His speech was punctuated by repeated roars of approval from the stands. The spectators’ thirst for blood was clearly high.

  "For the next two weeks, you will seek the inspiration to gain power in the impenetrable forest depths of this unique planet. There are no rules there, save for one: might makes right."

  Listening to this with a growing grimace, Justinian realized that Septima was preoccupied with something else entirely. Pensive and seemingly distant, she was staring toward the sector of the 65th Dimension.

  "Everything alright?"

  Justinian followed her gaze and frowned slightly. The sector Septima was staring at seemed strangely... empty?

  The delegation, which only a few days ago had matched the others in number, now appeared even smaller than the Sarmatian one.

  "Do you think something happened to the 65th Voivode?"

  The deviless shook her head.

  "If someone had attacked a Voivode, we surely would have heard about it. Still, it’s surprising that he chose to skip Micromegas's ceremony."

  Meanwhile, the host's voice continued to boom over the arena.

  "Each of you will be transported via portal to a random location in this dimension. For two weeks, you may seek power there. You will receive no guidance."

  He paused here to emphasize the weight of his final sentences.

  "If any dimension loses its entire representation, it will be deemed unworthy of the ceremony. Consequently, it will face destruction."

  When the devil made that horrific announcement, Justinian felt a chill run down his spine. There was no doubt that this was no idle threat.

  Without further formality, Micromegas opened a massive portal in the designated area of the arena.

  The team from the 61st Dimension went first—ten young devils led by Svarticus and his servant. They entered one by one, without looking back at the stands or the other teams.

  Shortly after the first of them vanished into the glowing portal, the crystals positioned high above the arena flared to life with vivid images. The gathered audience and the devils in the city could watch as the unfortunate soul looked around in confusion at the hostile jungle where he had landed.

  "I bet ten devil dollars he doesn't last five hours!" "My money's on someone from dimensions 62 through 64 killing him!"

  Thirsty for excitement and quick cash, the crowds immediately rushed to place bets. What actually happened to the adept didn't concern them in the slightest.

  In this manner, more participants vanished into the portal, materializing far away in the vast forests of this strange world. Justinian noted that none of them teleported to the "dead earth" region he had seen when arriving in the dimension.

  While waiting for the representatives of other worlds to enter the magical construct, he glanced at his companions. Alfons Rudnicki looked deathly afraid, but for his father's sake, he didn't dare refuse to participate.

  'He should be fine, I suppose...'

  Nikodem Rudnicki had provided his son with a wealth of protection in the form of artifacts that far exceeded his level. Seeing the various enchanted bracelets and rings glinting on the young devil, Justinian felt a nagging sting of envy. After all, his own only means of defense was a very unreliable philosopher-ghost.

  Still, he was glad that Alfons's safety seemed assured. Then there was the matter of Septima, who seemed clearly interested in the possibility of winning a prize from the competition. After a brief hesitation, the Grim Judge decided to get her attention.

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  "You should remember to be careful, too."

  The surprised deviless blinked doubtfully, as if the words he’d spoken were completely absurd. He could see a vein beginning to pulse at her temple, as if she took it as an insult. Ultimately, however, she restrained herself from a biting retort and replied with a calm question.

  "And you are the one talking?"

  Justinian smiled slightly. Lately, he had thought much about the events of the past week and had no intention of being reckless. A confrontation with Svarticus was highly probable, and he wasn't at all certain of victory.

  Furthermore, Svarticus wasn't his only enemy. It was a safe assumption that devils from almost every other dimension might attack him, and only a fool would ignore that.

  When it was finally his turn to enter the portal, he felt his entire being begin to dissolve through its magic. He cast one last glance toward the stands, where the gaze of someone unexpected caught his eye.

  A long-haired old man—the Voivode of the Alchemists' dimension—was watching him with focused interest and a faint smile. He didn't radiate hostility, but appearances were easy to manufacture.

  As he dissolved into the magic of Micromegas’s device, another thought occupied him.

  'Why does that devil look so familiar?'

  Before he could find the answer, he vanished into the magical portal.

  As the last adepts disappeared and the spectators began to wait impatiently for something exciting to happen, the true powers in the arena also began to move.

  The fact that the Voivode of the 65th Dimension was absent from the ceremony hadn't only been noticed by Justinian and Septima. The rulers of the other participating worlds, as well as Rudnicki, had seen it too.

  Voivode Knaz didn't even bother to keep up appearances. He immediately pulled his best warriors from the audience and commanded:

  "Find out what this means. If he's gone because he's wounded, you are to begin war preparations immediately!"

  Similar scenes were playing out within the delegations of Dimensions 61 and 64. Rudnicki, given his limited manpower, couldn't afford a similar maneuver. Instead, he headed off with a group of Sarmatians to conduct his own investigation.

  The atmosphere in the Observers' box was also unusual, though far less tense. Dolovarius was allowing himself an enthusiasm that had been absent for the past few days, and it was rubbing off on Envidius.

  "Do you think the Head of the Family will throw a banquet upon our return?"

  The leader of the delegation responded with a loud laugh.

  "It doesn't matter. The only thing that counts is that we have undeniable merits. Our position will only grow!"

  Envidius nodded. Success in the mission regarding Alia's oaths was a true achievement that would certainly be appreciated. That, in turn, would surely lead to an ascent for both Dolovarius and himself.

  'The glass ceiling will finally cease to exist...'

  Until recently, he hadn't allowed himself to have ambitions; he knew that despite his talent, there were many like him in the 32nd Dimension. Only the death of the previous Head of the Family had changed everything. And now, with the approval of Alia's brother, what could ever threaten him?

  Because of all this, he looked forward to returning to the 32nd Dimension with great impatience.

  "Is there even any point in giving these pieces of trash time out here? Those next two weeks would be much better spent at home."

  Dolovarius shook his head.

  "Our role as observers is still important. Besides, who knows if we might not stand to gain from this."

  "What do you mean?"

  "With our new position, we should think about building our own faction. Even if the adepts are pathetically weak, the gifts of this planet are real. Why shouldn't we profit from them?"

  Envidius wasn't convinced. He had recently had the chance to look at the "elite" of the local adepts and doubted their potential usefulness. Only Svarticus showed some potential, but compared to the 32nd Dimension, he wasn't even a worm.

  Dolovarius saw that he hadn't convinced him.

  "A good foundation isn't everything. Sometimes, knowledge provides much more."

  The young devil looked at his companion incredulously, to which Dolovarius smiled.

  "You may not believe me, but if I'm right, there is true gold hidden in the mud of this dimension."

  He looked his companion in the eye and declared with a certain tone:

  "I believe that due to the nature of this 'planet,' it is possible to summon an echo of a Voivode from before the reign of the King of Names and Symbols."

  During the following hours, every move of the adepts teleported into the jungle was closely monitored by the hundreds of thousands of devils gathered in the arena. Despite the excitement of the biggest optimists, however, more was happening in the arena itself during that time than in the competition.

  "WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT'S BEEN SIX HOURS AND NO ONE HAS DIED, SO MY BET IS VOID?"

  "Mom, how much longer are we staying? I'm bored..."

  "LYING SCUM, GIVE ME MY MONEY BACK!"

  Having gathered to experience fantastic battles and watch gladiators lose their lives, the crowds were largely disappointed. Only a small portion of the audience noticed that something strange seemed to be hidden behind the competition itself.

  Every so often, some of the adepts appearing on the screens showed signs of unnatural agitation. Their eyes darted around, and they looked in all directions. Sometimes they even covered their ears with their hands.

  The crystals, however, didn't focus on them for long, jumping instead to other adepts.

  Some time passed before the first adepts made contact. A pair of devils from the 64th Dimension, with long eyebrows curled like snails, seemed to have good luck as they stumbled upon each other.

  They quickly stopped on a massive branch of the kilometer-high trees, above the level of most of the unusual jungle's vegetation. One of them, with short black hair, asked his peer:

  "Have you run into any of the enemies yet?"

  The other just shook his head, not hiding his discomfort.

  "Something is wrong with this place... from the very start, I've felt like I'm in a cage... I don't know if you also hear—" His sentence was interrupted by a sudden 'crunch' of a branch nearby!

  Glancing at his companion, he immediately noticed how the other, much paler, had begun to sweat profusely. Despite their obvious fear, both were proud warriors; they also knew that if they brought shame to their dimension, a terrible fate awaited them.

  Thus, gritting his teeth, the devil nodded to his companion toward the source of the earlier sound. Both drew their spiritual bows and, maintaining silence, moved across the branches.

  The short-haired devil moved several meters ahead, ready to fire in case of the slightest complication. Under his companion’s watchful eye, he crept a bit further toward the site of the incident.

  Only to see the remains of an incredibly... old and dry branch that had simply snapped under the force of the wind.

  "To hell with this stupid atmosphere!"

  Straightening up and exhaling loudly, he intended to scout the area from there when the silence of the forest was shattered by a scream full of pain!

  The devil turned instantly, but his companion was no longer screaming. In fact, he was nowhere to be seen.

  The short-haired devil immediately began to retreat in terror when a whisper from behind his back reached him, freezing his blood.

  "Going somewhere?"

  He didn't have time to react. The force of a crushing blow to the neck made him lose consciousness. The shocked devils watching through the crystals saw an enemy standing over him—one who had defeated two adepts at the third level of Foundation Stabilization in less than a minute.

  That enemy was Justinian, looking down at his victim with curiosity.