Cedric strode toward the large arena at the center of the trial grounds, the participants trailing behind him. The arena was massive, an open coliseum with five raised stages spread across the vast expanse of the sand-covered floor. Each stage was perfectly circular, adorned with runes glowing faintly, amplifying the atmosphere of danger. The audience seats were already filled with spectators eager to watch the brutal battles unfold.

As Cedric reached the center, he turned to face the group of participants, his sharp gaze sweeping over them. After a moment of counting, his lips curled into a faint smirk.

“107” he muttered under his breath. “An uneven number.”

It didn’t take him long to decide who would be exempt from the first round. There was one among them who had already proven his worth—Ren. Cedric’s piercing eyes locked onto the young man standing near the edge of the group.

“Ren” he said, his voice echoing through the arena. “You don’t need to fight. Go to the corner and enjoy the show.”

Ren’s expression didn’t change much. He nodded curtly, as if he had expected this, and walked over to a shaded corner of the arena. Without a word, he sat down, his gaze already fixed on the others. He was ready to watch every fight, and his calm demeanor added to the tension among the participants.

The rest of the group, however, wore faces of unease and dread.

The air was heavy, a palpable sense of fear and uncertainty lingering between them. They all understood what this trial represented.

Failure meant death. Survival meant they could ascend to the next stage. The stakes couldn’t be higher, and it weighed on them like an oppressive storm cloud.

Cedric clapped his hands, drawing their attention back to him. He gestured to a large box placed near the stages, its surface inscribed with glowing patterns.

“Listen up!” he said, his voice commanding. “Inside this box are two sets of 53 tags. Each tag has a matching counterpart with a different color. You’ll draw one tag, and the person with the matching tag will be your opponent. Pretty simple.”

He paused for a moment, letting his words sink in before adding, “Now, get to it.”

With that, he turned on his heel and walked toward the spectator’s seat, leaving the participants to sort themselves out. The group hesitated for a moment, exchanging nervous glances, but soon began to form a line in front of the box. The process was quick, though each person approached the box with a mix of trepidation and hope. Hope that they wouldn’t end up facing someone far out of their league.

As Hope stepped forward in line, he couldn’t help but observe the faces around him. Some were pale, drained of all color. Others were stone-faced, masking their fear with forced determination. Occasionally, he heard a sharp intake of breath or saw someone’s eyes widen in horror as they realized who their opponent might be.

It didn’t take long for chaos to erupt. One man, trembling violently, stepped out of the line and shouted, “I quit! I can’t do this! Please, let me leave! I don’t want to die!”

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Another followed suit, his voice cracking as he pleaded, “I… I’m not ready! This isn’t what I signed up for! Please, I beg you!”

Their cries echoed across the arena, reaching Cedric, who was seated leisurely in the spectator’s box. Without even glancing in their direction, he waved a hand dismissively and said, “Fight. If you win, you will ascend. If you lose, you will be buried. It’s that simple.”

His cold, indifferent tone sent a shiver through the crowd. There would be no mercy. The participants realized that their fates were sealed. Either they fought and won, or they died trying. For some, this realization was too much. They stared blankly at the ground, their spirits broken before the battles had even begun. Others clenched their fists, determination hardening their expressions.

Hope observed all of this quietly. He didn’t feel sympathy for those who despaired, nor did he care about the ones who found themselves pitted against geniuses. This was the nature of the trial. Weakness had no place here. He looked down at the tag in his hand—a simple piece of metal with the number 13 etched into it, accompanied by a red glow. Somewhere in the crowd, his opponent held a matching tag with a blue glow. He would find them soon enough.

The first fight was about to begin. Two participants stepped onto one of the stages, their tags glowing as the arena’s runes activated. Hope didn’t know what kind of mechanism was used to make all of this happen. The light from the tags formed a barrier around the stage, ensuring that the battle would remain confined. Cedric raised a hand, signaling for silence. The crowd’s murmurs died down as everyone turned their attention to the two combatants.

“The first fight begins now” Cedric announced. “Show us your strength, or die trying.”

The fighters wasted no time. They were both late stage Soul Resonance realm. One, a burly man with scars crisscrossing his arms, charged forward with a battle cry, his fists glowing with spiritual energy. The other, a slender woman with sharp eyes, stood her ground, her hands moving in intricate patterns as she summoned a series of energy blades. The clash was immediate and brutal, the sound of fists meeting blades ringing out across the arena.

Hope watched intently, analyzing every movement. The man relied on brute strength, his attacks wild but powerful. The woman, on the other hand, was precise and calculated, each movement designed to exploit her opponent’s weaknesses. It didn’t take long for her to gain the upper hand. With a well-timed strike, she sent one of her energy blades slicing through the man’s shoulder. He howled in pain, dropping to his knees.

“Mercy!” he cried, clutching his wound. “Please, spare me!”

The woman hesitated for a brief moment, her expression softening. But before she could make a decision, Cedric’s voice rang out.

“Finish it” he commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Hesitation will get you killed.”

The woman’s eyes hardened. She raised her hand, summoning another blade, and brought it down on the man’s neck. Blood spattered across the stage as his headless body collapsed to the ground. The barrier surrounding the stage dissipated, and the woman stepped down, her face pale but resolute.

“Next fight” Cedric called, unfazed by the carnage.

One by one, the participants took to the stages, each fight as brutal and unforgiving as the last. Some battles were over in moments, the stronger opponent dispatching their rival with ease. Others dragged on, each fighter pushing themselves to their limits. Hope continued to watch, his expression unreadable. He was mentally preparing himself for his own fight, carefully observing the techniques and weaknesses of those around him.

Eventually, his turn came. His tag began to glow brighter, signaling that it was time for him to step onto the stage. He glanced around, searching for his opponent. A young man with a cocky grin and a blue-glowing tag stepped forward, his confidence radiating from every pore.

“So, you’re my opponent” the man said, cracking his knuckles. “This should be easy.”

Hope didn’t respond. He simply stepped onto the stage, his movements calm and measured. As the barrier formed around them, the atmosphere grew tense. The crowd leaned forward, eager to see how this fight would unfold.

“Begin” Cedric declared.