After spending the rest of the day finishing off the four remaining Nests, John and his companions took a couple of hours of rest and started the morning of the next day in yet another jog.

With the repeated usage of Astragoratius Mechatius and its ability to reveal the direction of the Hierarch's arena, they were able to cross the remaining distance and finally pinpoint its location an hour before high noon.

"Hmm, could this be it?" John pondered, kicking off bits of dirt from a large wooden hatch.

"I don't see anything else that could," Dilah'ec agreed. "The question is, what do we do now?"

This was how they found themselves scouring through a rugged-looking monastery that was standing proudly on the side of a lone hill like an old guardian burdened with age, yet refusing to give up his vigil.

"Let's take a peek before we make a decision?" John offered, brimming with curiosity.

Seeing a small nod from Dilah'ec and an affirmative grunt from Galan'il, John leaned down, grasped a thick metal band, and pulled upward.

The wooden trapdoor shifted under the strain, loosening up the dry dirt and sending up a cloud of dust.

"Huh."

"What is it?" Dilah'ec squeezed next to him and blindly peered down the cobblestone stairs.

Thanks to his Nightstalker's Awareness card, John was able to see through the dark interior and observe the descending pathway opening up into a small cellar with a familiar platform in its center.

"Let me go first and make sure it's safe."

Tipping the trapdoor over until it fell with a loud crash, John carefully descended the stairs. His bare feet were sinking into the dust with each step and his arms were constantly pushing through soft webbing that was sticking to his face until he made it into a small rectangular room with a single stone coffin near the far wall.

"Careful, that might be a trap. Give me a moment before you rush in."

Commanding his minions to float into the passage, he heard the whoosh of spreading flames as all the cobwebs caught on fire. The pathway and the cellar got briefly illuminated in an azure flash of light, but the fire ate through all its flimsy fuel and quickly petered out.

"Come."

Hearing the cautious steps descending, John smiled.

It's nice to have someone to rely on.

Over the last two days, he grew into the role of a tank and learned many lessons about his own body. Knowing which attack he could shrug off or which he could easily recover from apart from those that would leave deep or even life-threatening injuries was almost invaluable.

Touching his right cheek, he grimaced and shook his head.

Even if I can fully recover after getting half of my face dissolved, some injuries are more unpleasant than others.

"Ohh, this is just like the…" Dilah'ec squealed in delight, preparing to dive into the cellar, but a powerful hand grasped her shoulder and jerked her back.

"Trap, remember?" Galan'il growled, clearly annoyed at her casual disregard for the potential danger.

"Sorry," she mumbled and let Galan'il take a defensive position next to John.

"Do we blast it and see what crawls out?"

"Nah, I have a strong feeling that it's just an old tomb. Cover my back while I check it out."

Walking around the platform, John reached the coffin and briefly observed its chipped surface.

It was worn down by centuries of neglect, but a spot on its front caught his attention. There used to be a plaque with some inscription carved into the polished stone. Unable to make it out with his eyes, he used his sense of touch to gently trace the remains of worn-out symbols.

Here lies Sir Radovan Dubový, he nodded and carefully pushed the top to the side, ready to dive back in any sign of danger, however, the inside only revealed a motionless skeleton with a rusted shield covering its chest.

"Safe."

Dilah'ec tiptoed around the platform and stopped next to him, peeking into the coffin.

"Is this how you used to bury your people in the past?" She asked with a voice filled with wonder as her finger lightly touched the left side of its skull. "Where we are from, all our deceased are given to the holy flame."

It would make sense to incinerate your deceased when there are forces like the source of the undeath.

"For us, it's usually not like this. Most people are buried in the ground. This one, I think, was someone important to either their faith or perhaps a hero to some long-forgotten village."

"You had Patrons here? Before the System?" She yelled out, looking around in agitation.

"What? No… I mean… I am not the best one to explain theology, but some people from our culture have a belief in a single omnipotent being, yet we have never obtained any unshakable proof of its existence."

Seeing the relief washing over her face made him frown.

"Wait, does it actually happen? That the world undergoing integration has some kind of god-like figure already present there?"

"Yes. It is beyond rare. Throughout all of our known history, which reaches a million of your years, it happened only twice. According to the oldest records, the first instance required a joined force of the Patrons to shatter the world with its deity and all its native inhabitants, and the second was even worse, requiring the intervention from the Cosmic Council," she shuddered. "All that is now left from that place is The Great Void."

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

"Damn," John agreed, thinking about the implications of that information.

"So what do you want to do, John?" Galan'il spoke out, pulling them back to the current situation.

If only I knew, he lamented.

The undeniable truth was, that he stood no chance of facing the Hierarch's arena on his own as of yet, and another day or two wouldn't make that much of a difference… unless… he did something to break the rules and flip the whole encounter on its head.

"I… I think we should look for the closest town first. I've been thinking about the Hierarch's arena a lot and I believe that I can overcome it, but I'd rather have more time to prepare," he shook his head. "Wait, that reminds me, if fallen Outposts transform into Nests, does something happen with fallen Shelters and Bastions?"

"Yes, if a Sector falls under a few specific circumstances, it transforms into a Rift," Dilah'ec answered. "And despite its unfortunate formation, rifts are the most valuable resource you can find inside a Territory. Let's head out, I'll explain the rest as we go."

From his usage of the world map inside the Astragoratius Mechatius, he also remembered the direction of the closest city so finding it would be…

As he stepped on the first stair, his gut sent him a strong feeling of loss, making him stumble to a sudden stop.

"Well, shit."

Hearing him curse, his companions stopped as well and threw him questioning glances.

"Is everything okay?" Galan'il asked after noticing John's struggle with his indecision and a hint of apprehension in his body language.

"My… intuition… is telling me to challenge the Hierarch right now."

"Just the three of us? Sorry, but I am not throwing my life away for that," Galan'il refused. "And neither am I letting her throw away hers." He added with a nod to Dilah'ec.

"Listen, I understand that you want to obtain the extra rewards, but Galan'il is right. We are nowhere near ready to face that," she agreed. "Let's secure the town, get everyone into D-grade, and then we will succeed together."

For what I am planning to try, I wouldn't be able to take them with me anyway.

"I know," John agreed, but seeing their relieved faces, he clarified, "I am going inside by myself."

"What?! Don't be crazy! We know you are stronger than us, but there is no way you can face… What?" Dilah'ec's outburst was cut short by Galan'il's nudge.

"John, you are hoping to spread your blood through the whole arena, aren't you?" Galan'il spoke out with a deep frown creasing his youthful face and after John's nod, he continued speaking. "I don't think it's a good idea. Using your blood like that is beyond dangerous and yes, I can understand your current lack of concern, but trust me. When—and it is when, not if—it gets out of control, the damage to the environment will be devastating. It is not a one-fit-all solution to throw at all your problems."

"Besides, what if you are wrong? Why not wait for the rest of us to catch up and tackle it together as a group of ten? Just like we have done with the Sector trial," Dilah'ec added. "A couple more days won't change much, right?"

That's… no. Absolutely not, he thought after hearing her suggestion. The main reason he got here was precisely because he obtained the first kills and he would not stop. Not until he fucked up and got himself killed. Galan'il's warning, on the other hand, had merit. He hadn't seen it yet but could imagine how devastating it would get if his blood got out of control. Especially if someone took a large sample and spread it elsewhere on his own.

"It's… I understand your concerns, but it is not something I am willing to pass on," John chose his words carefully, trying to go about it as diplomatically as he could. "You know that I need the promotion for my own Bastion first, and only after the Hierarch resets can I let Melis'ar have it, right?"

"Yes, but…"

"Am I making a mistake? Maybe I am, but it is something I believe in and want to do. Also, I might be stretching the first couple of waves for as long as possible and it could take a while before I finish so don't give up on me too early, eh?"

"And what if you fail? What would we do then?"

"Dil, you are being selfish," Galan'il hushed next to her.

"I am sorry," the frown marring her face washed away. "It's just… for the first time in my life, I feel free. Free to make my own decisions… my own mistakes. And… I enjoy your company, John." She explained with a defeated sigh. "You don't care about who my father is or how dangerous my Fate-weaving could be. Being judged for my own merits… I never realized how much I missed that and… I don't want to go back."

"It's not like I am going to my own funeral you know?" John chuckled. "Give me a little bit of trust."

"Look at me making a fool of myself," she took a long, steadying breath and then shook her head. "You were right, John, and I apologize for my outburst. Is there anything I can do to increase your odds?"

Hmm, now that is a good question.

Opening up his Deck, he checked out his ash piles.

Eight hundred whites, nine hundred and sixty blues, and thirty-two yellows, a pretty good haul. Also paying for her attribute-boosting card with my whites was the correct decision.

Despite his earlier spending, the Venturing outside challenge and his ability to mow through the common and uncommon undead allowed him to keep a steady stream of income even as they jogged through the plains, and now after two and half days, he was almost ready to buy his next attribute-boosting card.

"There is something," John spoke out, unsure if asking them to lend him six yellows when he was about to risk his life was an ok thing to do. "I am six yellows off from getting my Vitality to C-grade, but I don't know if it is…"

"Here," Galan'il pulled a yellow pile into his hand and offered it to him. "Take them and make sure you come back to us alive."

"Thanks. I'll be back in a moment." John collected the piles and opened his archway.

His visit to the emporium was quick and to the point, allowing him to finish the transaction, absorb the card, and pop out of the archway in under a minute.

"Okay, I'll give my body a couple of minutes to get used to the new grade in Vitality, and after that…" he ended without finishing up the sentence, only showing a wolfish grin.

Rousing himself from a short meditation, he stretched and stepped on the circular platform. In the center was a waist-high protrusion with a small yellow gem.

I guess I have to touch it?

[Attention!

You have found the entrance to the Hierarch's Colosseum.

You may gather up to nine more sapient beings and issue your challenge.

Do you wish to challenge the Territory Hierarch?

Yes/No

Note: There are only two paths leading out from the Colosseum. You either leave as a victor or you leave as a corpse]

"So, wish me luck," John looked around, making sure he was the only one standing on the platform and willed Yes.

"Good luck!"

"You got this!"

A moment later, he felt a lurch and found himself standing in the middle of a familiar arena.

[Attention!

You have entered the Hierarch's Colosseum.

The rules are simple, use everything you have and fight your way through all fifteen waves. Only after you defeat the last combatant do you earn the right to face the Hierarch himself.

Note: As a lone challenger, you will be judged for your performance in the Colosseum by the Hierarch and if he finds you worthy, you will obtain a special opportunity]

"Welcome, challengers, to my Colosse… Oh, it's you…"

The Hierarch sat back to his throne and without another word unleashed the first wave.