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Vir stood in front of the enormous Ash Gate, pretending to be as shocked as everyone else. Murmurs could be heard throughout the crowd of nearly four hundred, and it didn’t end there. Grandstands had been erected nearby, forming a ring around the Gate, and thousands of spectators watched, cheering, and hooting for their favorite competitors.

It was, in every way, a spectacle.

Even the unflinching Cirayus was staring wide-eyed at it, albeit for very different reasons than the crowd.

“So that’s what that brat asked you to do,” Cirayus muttered, stroking his beard. “A Qualification in the Ash! How brazen. How… exciting.”

Vir shook his head. “He said you’d react that way.”

By now, news had spread that Cirayus the Ravager was sponsoring some newcomer. Vir had worried that some may put two and two together, but since nobody knew of Vir’s fate after the fall of Samar Patag, no one knew Cirayus had stolen into the Ash with him.

As far as the Demon Realm was concerned, Vir had perished in the many battles that left only scorched earth and unidentifiable corpses behind, and Cirayus, having grown jaded at his loss, had left for the Ash to train.

Thus, it hardly mattered that Vir spoke with Cirayus regularly. In fact, it’d be more suspicious if he avoided the demon.

“Has this ever happened before?” Vir asked.

“Never in my time. I’ve only heard of such a thing happening once,” Cirayus said. “A stable Ash Gate large enough to admit so many, and close enough to Camar Gadin? It’s very unlikely, lad. That boy’s a smart one.”

By now, Vir had gotten used to Cirayus calling centuries-old demons ‘boys’, ‘girls’, and ‘brats. From his perspective, everyone must have looked like a child.

I wonder if that’s how all old people think… Vir mused, but his thoughts were interrupted by a frowning Tara, who paced toward them.

Vir braced himself for whatever the fiery naga might say.

“You! Do you know what’s going on?” she asked, pointing at the massive Gate.

“Uh, isn’t it obvious?” Vir said. “Our qualification is probably going to happen in the Ash.”

“Impossible. Ravager, this is impossible, right?”

“Afraid not, lass. As I was telling young Vaak here, this seems like exactly the sort of thing Thaman would do.”

For the first time since Vir had ever seen her, Tara blanched.

“I don’t understand,” Vir said. “You’re a capable fighter. And your Panav arts can heal you. What are you afraid of?”

“I’ve… No. Nevermind,” she said. “I just—”

“Welcome!” Thaman boomed. A projected image of him soared into the sky, and his voice was magnified to match his great appearance.

What art or tablet was capable of such a feat, Vir didn’t know. But it sure was impressive.

“There’s been a small change of plans,” the enormous Thaman thundered. “For millennia, it has been Clan Baira’s honor to host the Tournament of Champions. And each Tournament, we have ensured that the Tournament has been both fair and executed with dignity. As such, to prevent scheming or cheating, the Qualification challenge is altered every time. This time, I am pleased to announce that a very special Challenge awaits. Indeed, you may never again experience such a challenge for the rest of your lives!”

The confused murmurs grew louder as more and more demons caught on to the nature of the trial.

“Indeed. This cycle, the strongest demons from the realm have traveled far. As such, we have prepared a challenge worthy of your great feats! Behold! The Ash Gate before you!”

Every set of eyes turned to the Gate, peering through it.

Even those who lacked an ability to sense prana could guess at the abundance of the life-giving energy on the other side.

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The only ones who weren’t staring at it were Bairans carrying stacks of small tablets, which they were in the process of handing out.

Wonder what those are about…

When Vir stabilized the Gate, he’d ventured through with Thaman, finding jagged peaks and a forest on the other side. It looked like anywhere in the Ash, but its prana density told him it was somewhere in the middle. Not too deep, yet not on the periphery, either.

For Vir, it was a bit lackluster. For the others…

The murmurs ceased as a multitude of expressions regarded the Ashen Realm. Some appeared confident—likely Warriors who’d spent a little in the Ash.

Others were terrified. Those, Vir concluded, hadn’t ever entered. They’d be culled quickly.

The last group, Vir was the most worried about. They were confident, yet not overly so. They were afraid, but not terrified.

These were the veterans. Warriors who’d spent considerable time in the Ash.

For anyone who did, knew of its terrors. They knew that death was but a moment away at all times. Yet, they’d braved that desolate land and survived. And from this came experience and confidence.

There were a surprising number in this last group, leading Vir to believe that despite his advantages in the Ash, this challenge would not be easy. He might’ve had an advantage, but it wasn’t as though he knew what Thaman was planning. He was in the dark as much as everyone else.

“The Challenge is simple,” Thaman continued. “Tournament officials are making their way through your ranks, handing out tablets. Notice how the tablets contain an arrow.”

Vir received his own tablet, as did Cirayus. They were identical in every way, and sure enough, in the center was a dim blue arrow that pointed into the Ash Gate.

It was a compass—one similar to the Artifact Vir used to cross the Ash. He recalled Saunak saying something about inventing a gadget that operated similarly.

If Vir wasn’t mistaken, the Master Thaumaturge had labeled these inventions as failures. Vir supposed a genius’ failures were treasures in their own right.

“You must carry these tablets to each checkpoint that has been placed within the Ash. Reach a checkpoint, and the tablet will point the way to the next. The first sixteen combatants to return through this Ash Gate with all checkpoints completed gain entry into the tournament. See? I told you it was simple.”

The murmurs started up again, but Thaman cut them off before they could grow.

“Oh, I forgot one thing. Tournament rules apply. No killing, no permanent maiming, no Ultimate Bloodline Arts. Anything else goes.”

“A race?” Cirayus said, looking distinctly unimpressed. “What a waste!”

The chatter instantly picked up as questions were hurled at the giant.

“I know what you all want to ask. And the answer is yes. If you manage to take or destroy a tablet from another demon who has completed all checkpoints, you may bring it back to claim victory. In this case, they will lose, unless they take it back or find another.“

Cirayus bellowed a great laugh before Vir could spin through the nuances of this challenge.

“Oh, Thaman,” Cirayus said between laughs. “You do me proud, lad.”

“Mind if I ask why, exactly?” Vir asked.

“Because, lad! This is a fine challenge. Even I ought to enjoy it, and let me tell you—that is no small challenge.”

Vir’s expression soured. “Well, I’m happy you feel that way.”

His own state of mind was similar to Tara’s.

This was a race, as Cirayus had said. Except, the bit that made Cirayus happy was the part Vir was worried about.

It was a free-for-all battlefield as well.

It was here that Vir might’ve held a slight advantage. One that instantly disappeared when he saw several pairs of judging eyes land on him. More accurately, they landed on Cirayus—in fear. And then to him.

In jealousy. In contempt.

Grakking Ash, Vir thought, barely suppressing a groan.

He’d erred. Showing his familiarity with Cirayus may have been good for avoiding suspicion, but now, it drew other demons’ ire.

Ire that conspired to gang up on him and stop him.

And while the strongest among them wouldn’t bother with such petty tactics—prioritizing the race over the fight—there must have been many present who understood they wouldn’t win.

Even if Vir was confident against fighting all these opponents together—which he wasn’t—it didn’t matter. They didn’t need to win. They only needed to slow him down.

Vir turned to the giant beside him.

“Cirayus? I propose we work together.”

The demon raised his brows, hesitating. Then frowned and shook his head.

“As much as I’d love to aid you here, lad, I simply can’t. Recommending you is one thing. Actively helping? I’ve done nothing of the sort before. It’d attract too much attention.”

“I’m not asking for anything much,” Vir said. “Just… If you happen to find groups of demons—demons of unsavory disposition—maybe just take them out. If it doesn’t slow you down.”

If his enemies were going to play dirty, Vir would use every resource he had at his disposal.

Cirayus swept his gaze across the eyes staring at us and cracked his knuckles.

“Aye. That, I can most certainly do.”

Thaman extended his hands and spoke again.

“Warriors! Demons! I invite you to the Ash to prove your mettle. Show us your skills! Your courage! Your determination! And let the best of you win. The Challenge starts in five minutes!”

Thaman’s image cut out, leaving the contestants in silence.

“Um…” A voice said from nearby. It was so timid and lacking in confidence that Vir initially mistook its owner.

“Tara?” Vir asked. “Is there something you need?”

The naga quietly scratching the back of her neck.

“What you said? About teaming up? Er, I’m game if you are.”

Vir stared at her for a moment, sizing her up. The naga had always struck him as a lone wolf—not really the type to work together with others. This request couldn’t have come easily for her.

One look at their crowd answered his question.

“I take it you’re not very popular…”

Tara laughed nervously. “More like I’ve made some enemies over the years. I think we have a better chance if we cooperate.”

Vir thought back to his duel against her. She was both strong and nimble. But did she have what it took in the area that mattered most?

“How fast are you in your serpent form?” Vir asked. “And, what’s your Guardian Rank?” he added.

“Silver,” Tara grinned, already shifting to her half-naga form. “And fast enough.”