Chapter 380: The Strange Man At Delheim

The battles raged on throughout the day, and amid the chaos, Syra was terrifying to behold.

She moved across the battlefield like a force of nature, each spell she cast operating on an entirely different level that most of her opponents fell in a single strike.

Before long, word began to spread. Champions who caught sight of an orange-haired elf on the field quickly chose another direction, unwilling to cross paths with her.

At one point, three Lomen warriors attempted to corner her. But she turned toward them with calm eyes, raised her hand, and whispered the spell.

The explosion consumed all three of them in an instant.

The Uweron mages, on the other hand, ran through the battlefield as well. Their magic was diverse and powerful.

They moved in coordinated groups, targeting isolated champions and eliminating them before reinforcements could arrive.

By midday, the battlefield had become a warzone of attrition.

Then, finally, sunset hit.

The moment the sun touched the horizon, every champion on the field vanished in flashes of light.

——

The Dragonhold champions reappeared in their hall, and the moment they materialized, the room erupted into another set of applause for day two.

Oberon stood at the front of the hall. For a brief moment, a subtle smile appeared on his face.

The champions then proceeded further into the hall to join the others.

Kayden walked past Innis and said, “You did well today.”

Innis turned toward him, and a smile spread across her face, then she nodded. “Thank you.”

She looked genuinely excited to have gotten that compliment from him.

Night eventually fell over the fortress and the champions gathered once more in the main hall.

Oberon standing at the head of the table, with hands resting on the surface addressed them.

“Good work today, you executed the strategy well, and because of that, we didn’t lose a single champion.”

There were murmurs of approval around the table.

Oberon continued. “Nazanda lost a total of eight champions today, which brings their total losses to ten. They’ve been eliminated from Stage One.”

Everyone immediately understood that only four continents remained.

Oberon gestured to a piece of paper in front of him. “Here are the remaining champion counts for each continent.”

He read them aloud:

“Valaross: 36 champions remaining.

Anane: 34 champions remaining.

Lomen: 34 champions remaining.

Uweron: 37 champions remaining.”

Uweron only lost two champions today. Aside from the one Rin eliminated, they lost one more to Syra’s power.

After a moment of pause, he continued, “Tomorrow, we will maintain the same strategy, but with some level of direct force. If an opportunity presents itself to engage and win quickly, take it. But—”

He looked around the table, meeting each person’s eyes in turn.

“If you engage and find the fight turning against you, withdraw. Regroup, recover, and return when you’re ready. Survival is always an option, and there’s no shame in choosing it.”

They nodded in understanding.

Oberon straightened and said, “Now, for tomorrow’s selection. Katherine, you’ll take a well-deserved break. Same for Talen.”

Katherine looked surprised for a second but said nothing.

Oberon explained. “You’ve been on the field for two days straight. The other continents have seen you fight. They’ve seen your abilities. They know what you can do, and by now, they may have come up with defenses or methods to counter you. So for now, it’s better to leave the field.”

Katherine nodded slowly. “Understood, Your Grace.”

Talen nodded as well.

Then Oberon turned to Ursula. “But I’ll need you out there tomorrow, Ursula. You can cast Mind Link, and we need that communication to stay coordinated.”

Ursula nodded. “Yes, Your Grace.”

Oberon turned his attention to the rest of the table. “For Day Three, I’m selecting the following.”

He called out the names one by one.

“Elian.”

“Azam.”

“Ursula.”

“Aeris.”

“Rin.”

Then Oberon paused. His eyes scanned the room, and they landed on a quiet figure sitting off to the side.

Lysandra, who seemed content to fade into the background.

Oberon hesitated for a moment. Then he sighed and said her name.

“Lysandra.”

Her eyes widened. She looked up in surprise, and turned towards Oberon.

He nodded at her. “Yeah, you. You’re up tomorrow.”

For a moment, she said nothing. Then she nodded and said quietly, “Yes, Your Grace.”

A few people glanced at her curiosly. Most hadn’t expected her name to be called.

Oberon looked around the table one last time. “Get some rest. Tomorrow, we continue.”

The meeting was adjourned.

——

The next morning…

The champions of Dragonhold stood in a circle as Ursula cast the Mind Link spell, connecting Elian, Azam, Ursula herself, Aeris, Rin, and Lysandra.

The first light of dawn came up, and they all vanished from where they stood.

When they reappeared outside the fortress, the other continents were already there. The atmosphere was tense.

Everyone knew that only four continents remained and eliminations would come faster now.

The champions split into their pairs and began moving into the Inner Zone.

Aeris and Rin mounted their dragons and took to the skies. Azam moved toward the forest with a warrior from Drakensport.

Elian headed toward the mountain ridge with his partner.

Ursula paired with another elf mage from Elandria and moved toward the ruins.

And Lysandra, paired with a mage from Belforte, walked quietly toward the river.

Day Three had officially begun.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

———

In the Real World…

The strange man walked across the grounds of what was once known as the Forsaken Continent.

Delheim

The land had changed over the past three years. Cities had begun to rise again. Roads had been rebuilt. People had returned to settle in places that were once abandoned, and civilization was slowly taking root once more.

But this particular area, far from the new settlements, remained untouched. The earth here was still cracked and dry, and the air was still. No one came to this part of the continent.

Except him.

His black robes trailed behind him as he moved across the plain. The green pendant around his neck remained ever glowing.

Eventually, he stopped.

He knelt down and placed his palm against the dirt.

“It should be right here,” he muttered.

The pendant hanging from his neck began to glow brighter. Green miasma leaked from his body like smoke, seeping downward into the ground.

Then, suddenly, a circular pattern on the ground began to glow.

It was enormous. Easily fifty feet across. The lines of the pattern were carved into the earth itself, and they had this eerie light as the miasma touched them.

This circular pattern used to be the gaping hole; that pit that led into the Demon Realm, but jt been sealed on the outside by Aiden.

The strange man then held onto the pendant.

It glowed brighter, and his body began to dissolve. His form broke apart into streams of green miasma that slipped into the ground, bypassing the seal entirely.

The power granted to him by that pendant had let him bypass the Dragon King’s seal.

He reformed in darkness.

The air here was cold. The sky above, if it could be called a sky, was an endless void.

He had arrived in the Underworld, and right then he began to walk.

The path ahead was lit only by the faint green glow of his pendant. Shadows moved at the edges of his vision, but none came close.

These were all demons but they had all avoided him. There was something about that pendant that made them stay back.

After some time, he came to a massive gate.

It towered so high that its top disappeared into the darkness above. The gates were covered in carvings, faces screaming, hands reaching, and mouths open in silent agony.

This was the gate that initially led into the demon realm three years ago. The one the dragons tried their best to hold the seal on.

The man stopped before it.

Then his body dissolved again into green miasma and slipped through the cracks in the gate.

Beyond the gate, the Underworld revealed itself fully.

He walked through a realm that looked like a distorted reflection of the mortal world. Rivers of black water flowed backward. Bridges made of bone stretched across chasms that had no bottom. The air itself seemed to wail this low and constant sound that echoed from every direction.

Spirits wandered aimlessly. Some sat by the rivers, staring into the water. Others floated above the ground, some of their eyes were hollow and vacant.

This place, the Underworld; was what used to be called the Demon Realm, until Aiden’s restructure of the universe three years ago. When he reshaped reality, he had transformed the Demon Realm into the Underworld, a place where damned souls were sent to serve their penance.

The man continued walking.

The path eventually led him to a vast throne room carved from black stone. Pillars rose on either side, each one engraved with the names of the dead.

The floor was polished to a mirror finish, reflecting the dim light that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at once.

And at the far end of the room, seated on a massive throne of dark iron, was Charon.

The God of the Underworld.

He looked down at the approaching figure with disdain.

Charon was Jorus’s child. The first Archon Aiden had killed three years ago during the brief war that happened in Eden.

The man stopped at the base of the throne and looked up.

Charon’s cold voice then echoed through the chamber. “Who are you, who is able to step into this place uninvited?”

The man did not kneel. He simply inclined his head slightly and said, “I am a messenger of the Ninth Ruler, and I have come with a proposition.”

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