“What’s that crazy bitch doing here?” Zara muttered mentally; her bloodthirsty gaze fixed on the elegantly dressed dark elf. Unlike the feline, Adona blew the champions a kiss, laughing as she met their stares.

Scott, on the other hand, remained impassive, his expression unreadable as he observed the elf’s antics and the arrival of the gods’ representatives. The brief surprise he felt at seeing Adona among them quickly faded, leaving him indifferent and unbothered.

Plume, adorned with a host of pearls, sensed the tension between her companions and the mysterious dark elf. Zara’s ferocious glare hinted at lingering resentment, but Plume chose to remain silent, preferring to watch as the situation unfolded.

The judge’s voice echoed through the hall as the last of the representatives arrived and the portal vanished. “Once again, on behalf of the Progenitor of Light and the Temple of Light, I welcome you all to this gathering,” the judge declared, and the lights in the hall suddenly dimmed.

The already anxious champions stirred, their keen eyes focused on the indifferent representatives.

“What’s this gathering about?” a champion suddenly demanded. “No one has told us anything.”

“That’s right! Someone needs to explain what this is all about,” another champion spat, glaring at the representatives and the judge.

“Pardon us for the veil of secrecy,” the judge bowed, “Fret not; all your questions will be answered to your satisfaction. That I assure you,” it promised, standing upright once more. The judge clapped its hands, and a majestic golden door appeared at the center of the hall. Then, its voice echoed again. “Everyone here has distinguished themselves throughout the torturous ranking games. Each of you has attained the highest possible rank, with some even exceeding it, stepping onto a path worthy of the highest thrones,” the judge paused, gesturing toward the door. “The true purpose of the ranking games is to find champions like yourselves—brimming with potential, capable of surpassing your peers. Each of you has shown remarkable strength, grit, and determination against all odds to make it this far, and for that, I applaud you. Your efforts will not be—”

“Get to the fucking point already,” a human champion suddenly interjected. “No one gives a crap about all that! Just tell us why the hell we’re here, why those guys are even here, and what that door is for!” The man’s displeasure was evident as he fired off his questions.

All eyes fell on the lanky man for a moment before turning back to the judge, waiting for its response. The judge pivoted toward the man, its voice calm but firm as it continued. “Your efforts will not be in vain, for now, you have the opportunity to join the fellowship of the gods—should they choose you, of course.”

The room buzzed with a mix of confusion and excitement. Some champions seemed to grasp the judge’s implication, while others were left with lingering doubts.

“What do you mean by joining their fellowship?” Orion asked, grinning as he awaited the judge’s response.

The judge turned to the mage, its tone precise. “You will have the opportunity to become a member of their inner caucus,” it explained.

“What about those already affiliated with gods?” Orion posed another question, his eyes brimming with curiosity.

“Nothing changes,” the judge began, gesturing once more to the door. “Inside, you will be interviewed by the representatives you see before you, as well as several others who prefer to remain anonymous. If you’re satisfied with your current sponsor, feel free to reject the proposals offered. If not, you can accept whichever offer suits you best. There will be no repercussions for leaving your current sponsor and choosing another; that, I assure you.”

“What happens to those who are unaffiliated and not interested in the offers?” Orion retorted with another question.

“Plain and simple, you’d be an idiot to do that,” a representative declared before the judge could respond.

All eyes turned toward the figure, who stood over twelve feet tall, his facial features obscured by a gas-like mask exuding copious amounts of turbid, emerald gases. A few representatives chuckled, seemingly amused by Orion’s bold question.

“There are no wrong or right choices,” the judge interjected. “Everyone should make the decision they deem best for their interests and future. However, I advise careful consideration before rejecting any proposals,” it stressed.

“I still don’t see the benefits of all this,” an elf remarked, her arms crossed over her chest. “In what order are we supposed to do these interviews?”

“Groups with more challengers will be given priority. You will enter as a group, but the interviews will be conducted individually and simultaneously until you have heard from all the representatives,” the judge explained. “You will understand the benefits of this gathering once you receive your offers.”

The lanky champion and his companions stepped forward, their movements measured. “Let’s get this over with. We have other matters to attend to,” he said.

“I understand,” the judge replied, gesturing toward the representatives. Wordlessly, the group marched toward the golden door, which opened on its own, emitting a blinding light. One after the other, they disappeared from the hall. Adona, lingering at the rear, paused and turned toward the hound extermination crew.

“I’ll be seeing you soon,” she said with a giggle, stepping through the door.

The judge then focused on the remaining champions. “I will now announce the first group to enter,” it declared.

“No need,” the lanky champion retorted. “We already know it’s us, so there’s no need to—”

“The Hound Extermination Crew, please make your way in,” the judge suddenly announced. Lights beamed down on Scott and his companions, drawing all eyes to them, especially those of the lanky champion and his six-man party.

Hurly, who had been lingering among the female champions, frowned as he recognized Scott—the same person he had met a few weeks ago.

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“Are you sure about that?” the lanky champion protested; his voice tinged with disbelief. “There’s no way they have more challengers than us.”

Scott and his companions marched forward, ignoring the stares of the assembled champions. However, the lanky champion’s companion suddenly blocked their path. Their leader, on the other hand, stood tall before the judge once more. “Check again—there must be an error,” he demanded. “No one even knows these bozos,” he sneered, pointing at the hound extermination crew.

Several champions watched the heated scene with intrigue and curiosity, their gazes shifting to the hound extermination crew, awaiting their reaction. But Scott and his group remained unfazed by the man’s provocation, lazily staring at the men blocking their path, their focus occasionally wandering back to the judge.

“I assure you there are no mistakes—”

“Check again, damn it!” the lanky man interrupted, his bald head reddening with fury. “Whoever made that list must be fucked in the head if we aren’t first.”

The judge’s tone remained calm and authoritative. “I want you to think carefully about where you are and what this place represents. I do not mind your insolence and utter disrespect, but I won’t tolerate any insults to the list prepared by Devotees of Light. Is that clear?”

The bald champion glared at the judge, his rage twisting his features as his dark skin flushed even redder. “Are you threatening me?” he spat, inching closer to the judge. “What are you going to do to stop me, huh?” he challenged, towering over the judge.

Scott’s gaze lingered on the confrontation, a smile tugging at his lips. Behind the judge, a gigantic but illusionary figure manifested—an imposing entity seemingly constructed from solid gold. With six wings attached to its back and eight muscular arms, each wielding a flaming scepter, it stood poised, ready to defend the judge.

“For your own good, I’d advise you not to do anything illogical,” the judge warned, its voice calm and collected.

The judge’s words only seemed to fuel the champion’s rage. “Who the fuck are you to tell me what I can and can’t do? Do you think…” The champion suddenly paused; his fury momentarily disrupted by the sound of laughter.

All eyes turned to the origin of the cheerful laughter—Orion, who laughed with tears streaming down his cheeks. The bald champion pivoted away from the judge; his glare now fixed on the mage. “Is something funny, asshole?” he growled, approaching with measured but powerful strides.

Orion, still chuckling, managed to respond. “I used to think genuine, hot-headed idiots only existed in fiction, but thank you for opening my eyes,” the mage said, wiping the tears from his cheeks.

Zara and Plume simultaneously glared at the mage, the feline in particular massaging her temples. They had agreed to avoid unnecessary trouble earlier, and here was Orion stirring the pot.

“I get being disappointed because you thought you were some hotshots, but throwing a hissy fit over something as irrelevant as who goes first? Especially when there’s nothing to gain—come on,” Orion laughed again. “Even more baffling, how big of a nincompoop—no, that’s too complex a word for you. How big of an idiot do you have to be to threaten a Judge of Light, in the Temple of Light, of all places? You’re either seriously lacking in the brains department or you have a sponsor that makes you think you’re above the rules of the Order of Light. So, which is it? Who’s your daddy—or mommy?”

Slim and Zara chuckled softly, their amusement barely contained as Ember shot them a glare, trying to maintain her composure. Despite her efforts, the dragonkin could barely restrain her rising urge to laugh, especially as giggles erupted from various clusters among the assembled crowd.

The lanky champion, utterly incensed, stopped a few feet away from Orion, steam visibly exuding from his skin. He opened his mouth to speak, but a system notification suddenly appeared before him, and horror twisted his visage.

“Daddy or mommy must be mad,” Orion teased with a smile, prompting another wave of laughter from the crowd.

As the notification vanished, the champion’s complexion slowly returned to its natural color. He took a deep breath, locking eyes with the mage. “This isn’t over, I promise you,” he hissed.

“You have no idea how much that statement fills me with joy. I’ll be looking forward to it,” Orion replied, still smiling. Without another word, the lanky man and his companions retreated, their eyes filled with bloodlust as they glared at the hound extermination crew.

“Please step forward,” the judge urged once more. Scott and his companions advanced toward the door. Scott entered first, followed by Ember, Zara, Slim, and Plume. Orion, however, lingered near the judge, studying the faceless entity.

“Is there a problem?” the judge asked.

“I had no idea the Order of Light harbored such violent tendencies,” Orion whispered. “Would you have killed them if I hadn’t intervened?”

“Pardon me, but I don’t understand what you mean,” the judge responded, its tone flat.

Orion smiled. “Sure, you don’t,” he murmured, his gaze shifting to the space above the judge. “Forget I said anything,” he giggled, before finally stepping through the door and disappearing.

The judge turned back to the remaining champions. “I’ll now announce the second group. Please step forward…”

Meanwhile, Scott found himself in a tastefully arranged office, complete with a large desk, bookshelves filled with volumes, and two comfortable chairs. In one of the chairs, Adona sat comfortably, her warm, inviting eyes focused on Scott.

“What are the odds you’d come here first?” she remarked with a mesmerizing smile. “You’ve already seen me naked, so there’s no need for any awkwardness between us. Have a seat,” she gestured to the vacant chair. Scott, however, remained motionless, staring at the elf.

“Fine, have it your way. I forgot how obstinate you can be,” she sighed, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“How are you here?” Scott finally asked, breaking his silence.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Adona countered with a smile. “I should be asking where you’ve been. The most famous champions currently partaking in the ranking games have already been announced across the lower floors, but for some reason, neither you nor your companions were among them. One would think you all simply vanished,” she said, tilting her head to the side. Scott, however, remained silent.

Adona sighed, shaking as head as she continued. “I assumed you’d be angry at me, though—”

“You’re not worth the effort,” Scott interjected sharply.

“Ouch, that hurt. Wow,” Adona chuckled, shaking her head. “Well, I did miss you, and I’m glad we’re able to talk again like this.” The elf suddenly stood up, taking a step closer to Scott. “I have some good news for you,” she began, her voice tinged with a mock sweetness. “Your friends have decided to back off. They’ve realized you’re the one variant who doesn’t conform to the ideals of your other versions. So, there’s no need to worry about them ambushing you or anything…” Adona paused as Scott’s laughter cut through the air, cold and mocking.

She stopped in her tracks, her gaze narrowing on the voidweaver.

“Am I supposed to be grateful?” Scott spat, his tone icy.

“I understand that you’re upset—”

“Upset?” Scott’s laughter grew harsher, the yellow sign in his eyes flickering with intensity. “They don’t get to start shit with me and then decide when it’s over. I don’t get to have my life wrecked and then hear a ‘sorry’ and just let it slide.”

“Scott, you’ll die if you face them,” Adona warned, a trace of genuine concern slipping into her voice.

“Who said I was scared of death?” Scott shot back. “Tell them I got their message. And tell them my response: they can fuck off. I’m done with this conversation,” Scott declared, turning to leave.

“Stop right there, you impertinent brat,” a scathing voice thundered, freezing Scott in his tracks. He tried to move, but his body refused to obey. The magnificent office space around him began to warp and erode, the walls melting away into nothingness. Before he could comprehend what was happening, Scott found himself suspended in a vast, empty space, the overwhelming pressure forcing him into a prostrating position.

In the abyss, in a place where no mortal had ever reached nor ever would, thousands of thrones hovered in the void, each one alight with a terrifying spark. At the center of this cosmic formation, Scott lay, unable to speak or move as a formidable force crushed his very essence.

You have been summoned to the Council of Gods!