Chapter 60: Parents Are Wonderful (2)
The next morning, Finn dragged himself up, shaking off the stiffness, and marched straight to the location where he was supposed to register for the tournament. But when he arrived, he stood frozen in surprise. The entire place was utterly deserted, not a single person in sight.
"Weird. I'm usually the one who shows up late," he muttered to himself, scratching the back of his head in genuine confusion.
"Need something, boy?" came a sudden voice. A janitor had appeared nearby, eyeing Finn's puzzled expression curiously.
"Oh yes, isn't this the site of the Fire Dragon Tournament?" Finn asked eagerly, pointing straight at the vast, empty space before him. His voice carried an edge of relief, as if he expected the old janitor to confirm he was exactly where he needed to be.
"This? No, boy," the janitor replied, shaking his head with a slow, almost pitying motion. His wrinkled hand lifted to point east, the joints popping faintly. "Didn't you hear the announcement from the royal palace seven days ago? The first stage of the tournament is being held in a special arena seven kilometers east of the kingdom." The old man's voice was patient but carried a hint of amusement, as if he'd encountered this same question too many times before.
Finn's shoulders dropped, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. Being unconscious for twelve days really did come with some serious disadvantages. While he'd been lying senseless, an entire logistical plan for the tournament had been announced and finalized without him knowing a single word of it. The royal palace had chosen to build a special arena specifically for the massive influx of participants. With more than nine thousand hopeful warriors gathered from every corner of the Fire Lands, it was clear they couldn't all be funneled directly into the royal palace grounds. Instead, they would sift through them, cutting down the crowd to just the most exceptional 128 fighters.
Finn started walking, his steps firm and eyes focused. As he neared the new location, a colossal wall came into view, extending as far as the eye could see in both directions, like the spine of a giant beast guarding something precious. In its center stood a towering ornate gate, adorned with intricate carvings of flame motifs and sharp edges that gleamed under the intense sunlight. Two stern guards in thick, flaming armor stood watch, their expressions locked in disciplined vigilance.
"Name and number," one of the guards demanded sharply as soon as Finn approached, his voice echoing slightly in the still air.
"Omar, number one," Finn answered with unshaken confidence, his tone casual but edged with hidden excitement.
The guard's eyes narrowed for a moment before he nodded subtly to his comrade. Without a word, the second guard moved to unlock and push open the enormous gate, its heavy hinges creaking deeply like the roar of a dormant dragon. Finn hopped on his bike and began riding through the passageway, the clatter of his wheels mixing with the echoing sounds of the gate behind him.
"Number one, isn't he the crazy one competing without a sect?" the first guard asked under his breath, his eyes following Finn's silhouette disappearing beyond the gate.
"Yes," the second guard replied, exhaling a tired sigh. "He's a real joke to all the fire folks. The only bright side for him is that these preliminaries don't have an audience. Unlike the main tournament in the royal palace, here no crowds are watching, so only the other contestants will get to see his inevitable, humiliating defeat."
"Hah, I hate that part," the first guard scoffed, shaking his head and returning to his stiff posture.
Inside, the tournament grounds stretched like a fiery labyrinth. There were 128 battle arenas, each circular and surrounded by tall protective barriers that glowed with magical runes, designed to contain even the most violent explosions of power. Each arena accommodated an average of 73 contestants, a swirling sea of warriors from all across the Fire Lands, each face a mix of arrogance, anxiety, or burning determination.
Finn's assigned arena was number one. He made his way there, his eyes sweeping over the endless ocean of arenas and fighters. Once he arrived, he spotted the long, sturdy benches surrounding the combat ring, designed for spectators and fighters waiting their turn. He walked over casually and plopped down, his fingers drumming lightly on his thigh as he observed the atmosphere around him.
It seemed the fights had already begun. Inside the arena, pairs of fighters clashed with brutal intensity, each duel a raw display of skill and savagery. The system was straightforward: one-on-one combat, the loser eliminated immediately, and the winner kept advancing to face new challengers until only the best remained standing.
"What's the average strength here, Sika?" Finn asked in a low voice, tilting his head slightly, as if speaking to thin air.
[The weakest person here is at Entry Phase level three, and the strongest reaches Entry Phase level nine. That's not counting the two sitting above you by seven entire ranks.] Sika's mechanical voice echoed crisply inside his mind, laced with analytical detachment.
Finn's eyes shifted sideways, narrowing slightly. His gaze landed on two young men sitting some five meters apart from each other. Both exuded an aura of unapproachable nobility and raw, crackling power. A silent buffer of space had naturally formed around them — no one dared to come close, as if an invisible force field kept the lesser warriors at bay. Finn, however, found himself the closest to them, his presence like a rebellious spark in their quiet dominance.
[On the right is the fourth young master of the Glorious Thunder Sect, Silas Hawthorne, eighteen years old. On the left sits the second elder's son from the Blazing Spear Sect, Kieran Emberfall, nineteen years old.] Sika continued, providing precise, cold data.
"Are they stronger than the rest of this rabble?" Finn asked, his lips curling slightly in a mixture of curiosity and hidden excitement.
[Silas Hawthorne is at True Phase level two, and Kieran Emberfall is at True Phase level one.] Sika confirmed, the words sinking into Finn's mind like cold steel.
"Hah, that explains why they don't bully each other," Finn thought to himself, a faint smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth. These weren't just any warriors; they were walking legends. Names like Blazing Spear and Glorious Thunder were enough to send tremors through the hearts of any commoner or even the more established sects. Their presence alone declared a silent dominance, an unspoken threat that promised devastation to anyone foolish enough to provoke them.
The sects of the Fire Kingdom held their own twisted hierarchy. They were the second strongest entities right after the royal palace itself — though that was only if you set aside the Golden Sun Sect, an absolute outlier whose power transcended the standard scale altogether. Beyond that anomaly, there were dozens of other sects, each carving out its niche through raw strength, unique techniques, and fierce reputation.
These sects divided themselves into three strict categories. The first were the weak sects, often seen as laughable upstarts — minor organizations clawing desperately for any scrap of influence, largely ignored by anyone with true power.
The second were the medium sects. While not breathtakingly strong, they carried a decent level of power and spiritual resources, allowing them to stand above the weak sects but still fall short of real dominance. Most of the participants in this sprawling tournament hailed from these middle-tier sects, each one hoping to prove themselves worthy of higher recognition.
Finally, there were the great sects — the pinnacle of collective might within the Fire Lands. Only five sects belonged to this elite category, though if you removed the Golden Sun Sect from consideration (an entity so overwhelming it almost felt like a divine presence), that left just four true giants standing tall.
These four were the Blazing Spear Sect, Volcano Core Sect, Glorious Thunder Sect, and Red Mirage Sect. Together, they cast enormous shadows across the entire fiery landscape of Ooo, spreading their influence and martial doctrines with an iron grip, shaping the destiny of countless warriors and the balance of power itself.