A palpable silence enveloped the hallway as both champions exchanged glances. The corners of Scott’s lips curved into a smile, his thoughts drifting to the first time he had encountered the yellow-eyed man. For him, this was the first time he was meeting someone else after encountering their variant first.

“Why are you smiling?” Hurly asked, his gaze locked on Scott.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. I’ll be seeing you around,” Scott replied with a smile, retreating to his room before Hurly could muster a response.

Left alone in the hallway, Hurly stared at the now-closed door, which had seamlessly merged with the wall. What the fuck was that? he thought, taking a deep puff from his cigar. “Just how many fucking weirdos do they have in this place?” he muttered, continuing down the hallway. However, a nagging thought still plagued his mind. I don’t know if the sanctuary is responsible, but why did that freak have no emotions? Is he a ghost or something? Hurly glanced back at the spot where he had met Scott, unable to shake off the creeping unease.

Meanwhile, Scott approached the center table near the padded seats and placed the gift-wrapped box on its surface. Now, what exactly could be in here? he wondered, loosening the red bow string. The wrapping unraveled on its own, revealing a small leather wrist cuff with a skull insignia etched on its surface.

Scott frowned. What the hell is this? he thought, examining the item closely.

“Slim, where did you get this from?” Scott asked via a private channel.

“Try it on, buddy,” Slim replied, his voice brimming with excitement.

“Tell me what it is first—”

“That defeats the purpose of the surprise, doesn’t it?” Slim interjected. “Trust me, you’ll love it. I picked it out specifically for you,” he added. “Let me know when you try it on.”

Slim closed the channel, leaving Scott at a loss for words. He looked back at the item, debating whether to wait until the others received theirs, but his curiosity got the best of him. He unstrapped the buckles of the cuff, fastening it around his left wrist. The skull insignia seemed to come alive, its jaw opening and closing as if in a laugh. Before Scott could process what was happening, a shimmering silver luminance enveloped his body, and his clothes and boots disappeared into the laughing skull. In the same moment, a new set replaced them.

Scott, his mouth slightly agape, stared at his new clothes with a hint of surprise. He now wore an elegant, well-fitted black suit with a matching black tie. A magnificent but unbuttoned grey trench coat draped over the suit, while his hands were covered by comfortable black leather gloves that didn’t impede the chains or the pendant. Despite the multilayered garment, Scott felt as if his movements wouldn’t be hindered in the slightest. Oddly enough, he felt more comfortable in the seemingly impractical outfit.

“Slim, where did you get this from?” Scott called out on the private channel, and the skeleton’s laughter echoed in response to his inquiries.

“You love it, right?” Slim said, his voice brimming with pride. “I don’t know if it’s by random chance or if they recognized my artistic brilliance, but a judge approached me earlier, stating that a feast will be held soon for all challengers, and they wanted me to choose the attire for our group. Apparently, in terms of rarity, they’re all legendary-ranked items, and there are at least five sets of clothes with the ability to store even more within the cuffs. Not so bad, right?”

Scott nodded, even though the skeleton couldn’t see him. Now, he understood why the clothes looked like something a fashionista had chosen. Then a thought crossed his mind, and he couldn’t help but chuckle.

“What did you choose for Zara?” Scott suddenly asked. “She might actually kill you if you picked something weird for her.”

Slim burst out laughing. “You’ll find out soon, buddy. I’ve been holding back for so long—it’s time I had my revenge,” the skeleton laughed once more.

“I hope you won’t be the first undead to actually die on that day,” Scott chuckled softly. “By the way, when did they say the feast would be held, and do you know anything else about it?” Scott inquired.

“To be honest, that fella barely spoke. I really don’t know much about the feast or its purpose. I’ll let you know if I find out anything, though,” Slim promised, ending the discussion.

“A feast for all the challengers, huh…” Scott muttered as he approached the king-sized bed in the bedroom. His clothes changed once more; this time, he wore simpler attire as he lay face-first on the soft bed. The last time I slept on a bed, Ember was… Scott took a deep breath, reigning in his wandering thoughts.

The days slowly counted down within the sanctuary. Lavish dishes and drinks were delivered to Scott’s room three times a day without fail, and he maintained constant communication with his companions. However, none of them made any attempts to visit each other, nor did they have any intentions of leaving their rooms—except for Orion, who constantly shared the details of his daily observations with those eager to listen.

Two weeks had passed since their arrival, and they all enjoyed the peace and luxury that came with being a challenger. Then, on one fateful day, a knock echoed in Scott’s room. Lying casually on a couch while reading the Sutra of the Order of Light, Scott looked up at the golden door. The knock echoed a second time, followed by a refined voice that filled the room. “The gathering for challengers will be held in ten hours. We sincerely anticipate your attendance,” it announced.

Scott averted his gaze from the door, staring lazily at the golden text once more. Today is the day, huh, he thought. Although it had been less than a month since they arrived in the Temple of Light, he couldn’t remember the last time things had been so peaceful. He knew the serenity wouldn’t last, but it was a rare period of stability he hadn’t experienced in a long time.

The hours slowly counted down, and the appointed time for the gathering arrived. Scott, dressed in his luxurious suit, stepped out of his room. Waiting outside were several young boys, each identical to the one who had delivered the package on the first day. The boys lingered at the entrance of open doors or stood idly by the wall, awaiting their assigned champion to exit their rooms.

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

Scott’s gaze lingered on the array of unfamiliar faces in the hallway. There were champions of varying races, most of humanoid origin, but a fair few were entities he couldn’t identify. Naturally, each champion wore distinct attire, each unique from the other, but the sheer quality of the clothing was clear and evident. It was apparent that the Temple of Light had invested significantly in securing the best materials for their esteemed guests.

Is everyone here a challenger? Scott thought to himself, casually surveying the crowd of champions. Hastur’s gaze couldn’t bypass the restrictions imposed by the sanctuary, leaving him unable to discern more about the individuals around him. Among the sea of unfamiliar faces, Scott suddenly noticed a familiar figure, and a smile parted his lips.

Slim, accompanied by his guide, moved through the throng, approaching Scott with quick steps. “Buddy, who knew our rooms were so close to each other,” Slim beamed, arriving in front of Scott’s door in a flash. The skeleton’s grin widened as he observed Scott from head to toe. “Looking good, buddy,” he complimented with a thumbs up.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” Scott replied with a smile.

Slim wore a similar suit to Scott’s, though his was a distinguished grey. Instead of a tie, he sported a bowtie, and a top hat with a black cane completed his outfit.

“What about the others?” Scott asked, his gaze drifting to the other champions.

“I didn’t see them,” Slim replied, leaning slightly on his cane. “We’re all heading to the same place, so there’s no need to search for them. Where’s your guide?”

Scott pointed toward a trembling boy a few paces away, his head lowered in a mixture of fear and respect. Slim glanced at the boy, a wry smile gracing his face. Even without explanation, he understood what the young guide was going through.

“We should go. I don’t like staying in crowded spaces for too long,” Scott muttered.

“Since when?” Slim chuckled, subtly urging his guide to lead the way. Scott’s and Slim’s guides moved ahead, maintaining a considerable distance from the duo. Slim and Scott approached, several guides hurriedly distanced themselves, fear evident on their faces. The reactions of the young guides caught the attention of the observant champions, who focused their gazes on Slim and Scott. One was an undead, while the other appeared human but clearly wasn’t. The swirling darkness in place of Scott’s face only heightened their curiosity. Hushed discussions abound, but no one could figure out the identity of the duo.

Led by their guides, Scott, Slim, and several other champions trekked through a series of winding hallways, each adorned with vibrant artworks and sculptures depicting the faceless judges of the famed sanctuary. Minutes passed, and the procession grew as more champions joined from various hallways, though many had yet to reunite with their companions. Soon, they reached another hallway, closed off by a gigantic golden door at the end. Two towering judges with six arms stood on either side, each wielding a scepter in each hand.

“The gathering is taking place in there. Please enjoy yourselves,” the guides muttered simultaneously, their heads bowed.

Scott and Slim exchanged glances but remained silent. They took a step forward, and at that moment, the rest of the champions and guides vanished. What’s more, they found themselves already standing in front of the extravagant door.

“What just… how did we?” Slim muttered, turning around. The hallway behind them had vanished, replaced by a solid wall. He faced the motionless guards, but neither of them reacted to their presence.

“There’s no use giving yourself a headache about it. Let’s just go in,” Scott whispered. He took a step forward before Slim could retort, and a melodious clink echoed as the door parted without a creak. The interior was shrouded in darkness, yet Scott and Slim strode in, the door closing behind them with an ominous thud.

The space around them twisted, revealing an aesthetically designed hall adorned with exquisite decorations. Despite the large number of champions who had marched through the hallways earlier, fewer than fifty had gathered here. Dozens of long tables, stretching as far as a hundred feet, graced the hall, each one laden with sumptuous dishes and rare drinks that would make even the most restrained person drool.

“It took you guys long enough to get here,” Zara’s voice echoed from the side, drawing Scott and Slim’s attention.

Scott’s brows shot up, his gaze lingering on Orion, Plume, Zara, and Ember, who had already reunited. However, it wasn’t just the voidweaver’s eyes—most of the male and female champions in the hall couldn’t help but stare at the feline and dragonkin. Both wore stunning black dresses with thigh-high slits, accentuating their figures. Zara’s hair seemed to sway gently despite the lack of wind, adorned with multiple pieces of golden jewelry decorating her ears, wrists, and forearms. Ember, barefoot but poised on her levitating discs, had her ankles adorned with similar golden accessories.

“Why are you looking at us like that?” Zara asked, a hint of embarrassment evident on her face as she met Scott’s eyes.

“The dress suits both of you well. You’re both truly beautiful,” Scott declared softly. Zara’s face reddened even further, while Ember wore a mesmerizing smile as she approached the voidweaver. She loomed over Scott, admiring his outfit and neatly styled hair.

“You look great,” she said, placing her right hand on Scott’s neck. She caressed it for a moment before lowering her arm. Then she turned to regard Slim. “You weren’t exaggerating when you said you had a keen eye for fashion,” she said, and Slim beamed, grinning ear to ear.

Zara, however, sneaked behind the skeleton. “You’re lucky you didn’t pick something weird for me. I’ll consider promoting you if you keep behaving, okay?”

Slim saluted, grinning. “Your wish is my command, my leader.” The feline smacked his arm, a smile parting her lips.

“So, does anyone have any idea what’s going on?” Scott suddenly asked mentally.

Orion, dressed in an equally luxurious suit, answered first. “This is basically the culmination of the grueling ranking games. I’m certain we’ll finally find out the significance of the ranks we’ve earned during the games,” he declared, sipping on wine. Like Scott, the mage looked different from his usual appearance, a beige scarf wrapped around his neck, and two emerald rings adorning his fingers.

“That means it’s likely the gods will be involved in this,” Slim muttered, his expression turning stern.

“Absolutely,” Orion affirmed with a nod. “I’m curious, though. I want to see to what extent their involvement will encompass this gathering,” he giggled, a gleam of anticipation in his eyes. Then, suddenly turning toward Scott, he pointed eastward. “You won’t believe who I saw earlier,” he said, barely able to contain his excitement.

Scott followed the mage’s outstretched hand, and a smile parted his lips. There, standing amidst a group of human champions—mostly female—Hurly was engaged in conversation, drinking and laughing with them.

“Do you think that guy is anything like his variant?” Zara asked, a frown creasing her brows.

“I’m not sure, and I don’t care,” Scott replied. “He won’t survive for long, though.” All eyes fell on Scott, silently asking for clarification, but he didn’t elaborate further.

New champions continued to enter intermittently, joining their companions. Soon, the number of champions in the hall had swelled to around one hundred. At that moment, a distinct echo filled the room, like the clinking of a glass. The champions turned toward the sound, and a judge clad in a white toga magically appeared in the center of the hall.

“Welcome, everyone,” it greeted, its voice clear and powerful. “The grand selection will begin shortly. But first, please join me in welcoming the representatives of the gods!”

An oppressive aura suddenly enveloped the hall, causing most of the champions to instinctively ready themselves for battle. A swirling portal manifested, and one by one, several powerful figures stepped out; their numbers quickly reaching twenty, further intensifying the anxiety that hung in the air.

The expressions of the hound extermination crew shifted as their intense gazes locked onto one of the new arrivals. Adona, who they had once known as Llorva, stood among the gods' representatives, a veiling smile playing on her lips as she observed the hall. As if sensing the glares directed at her, she turned, a hint of surprise momentarily crossing her face before it was replaced by a sweet, knowing smile.