Chapter 317: The Gathering Begins
The Roba Tribe was said to be a people blessed by the Desert God, so the first and most important event of their annual gathering was the offering ceremony.
The Roba Tribe held a grand ceremony, led by their Chieftain, "Khara-Khan," and the scene was quite spectacular. "Khara-Khan" was not a name, but a title, meaning "Great Khan."
Although the Roba Tribe was small in number, they had a glorious history. So, even though they had gradually declined, the title of Khan had been passed down.
Unfortunately, Basalt was not a member of the Roba Tribe, so he could only watch from afar on the city walls, unable to participate.
The massive ceremony began at dawn and lasted until noon. Afterward, the tribespeople began to enjoy a great feast and rest.
Because in the afternoon, the second major event of the gathering would begin: the Elite Selection.
Resources were limited everywhere. To ensure that those limited resources were used most effectively, they had to be given to those with the most potential—the so-called elite. Thus, a selection was necessary. This was true for every province and every tribe. Basalt himself had only stood out after going through the high school elite selection tournament.
However, compared to previous years, this year's Roba selection tournament had an outsider: Basalt. It was impossible for him not to become the center of attention.
"Whoa, a 'King of the Hill' format? The Roba Tribe is really straightforward and brutal!"
When Basalt learned the rules of the competition, he couldn't help but feel his mouth twitch.
The Roba's tradition was to select the eight most outstanding young talents from the tribe to enter the Ancestral Secret Realm for special training. Their selection method was to designate eight areas as "rings." Each participant had two chances to challenge a ring.
If the challenge was successful, they could stay on the ring and defend it.
While defending, they would have to face the attacks of numerous other challengers. Once defeated, they lost their qualification.
After everyone had used up their challenge attempts, the eight people left standing on the eight rings would be the final winners.
"According to these rules, isn't it a huge disadvantage for the people who go up first?" Basalt asked, looking at the eager Amuyar.
"A disadvantage?" Amuyar paused, then shook his head. He pointed to an old, silver-haired woman not far away. "That's Granny Ayim. She's the best healer in our tribe. That Clefable next to her ensures that all the defenders can fully recover their stamina. It's been this way for years, and there's never been an issue."
Following Amuyar's finger, Basalt indeed saw a soft, cute, and rather large Clefable. It was a pink, star-shaped, bipedal Pokémon with long, pointed ears with black tips. It had small, black, wrinkled eyes, a curl of fur on its head, and a curled tail. It also had a small pair of wings on its back.
"A Clefable specializing in healing?" Basalt nodded.
Although the Roba Tribe mostly raised Sandstorm Pokémon, and a Fairy-type Clefable seemed out of place, Basalt knew that one of Clefable's abilities was "Magic Guard," which prevented all damage except from direct attacks. This meant it wouldn't be affected by the "Sandstorm" weather.
"I now declare: the Ring Battles officially begin!"
The Roba Chieftain, the bearded Khara-Khan, made the symbolic announcement and then returned to his high platform to rest. The platform was over three meters high, giving him a perfect view of all eight rings. Besides him, there were many tribal elders, and the only young person, Adil.
This was a privilege far beyond that of an ordinary tribesman.
The moment the battles were announced, someone immediately leaped onto a ring, a proud look on his face. From their expressions, Basalt could sense their desire to show off.
"What's with that?" Basalt scratched his head, not understanding.
"Most of the people who go up first are of above-average strength. It's difficult for them to make it into the final eight, so they might as well go up early and at least win a few matches. Even if they lose later, it's not as embarrassing. The most embarrassing thing is to not win a single match."
Amuyar pointed to the dense crowd below, which included many stunningly dressed Roba girls, all boldly and passionately displaying their beauty.
"The truth is, all the youths who can participate in these ring battles are the elite of their respective tribes, and they are all prime husband material. For example, from my tribe, I'm the only one who came this year. The spots are very limited."
Amuyar explained, "After the ring battles, we have a bonfire at night. If any of them perform exceptionally well in the rings, a large group of people will definitely confess their love to them. So they're all giving it their all. Getting into the Ancestral Secret Realm is only part of it..."
"Whoa! You Roba people are that intense?" Basalt's eyes widened, his heart beating a little faster.
Although the Roba girls were a bit tanned, their exotic charm was really attractive, especially when they wore their distinctive ethnic clothing. Every frown and smile was captivating.
But then, remembering Master Martel's teachings, Basalt's excitement quickly cooled.
Right now, the most important thing was to secure a spot.
Soon, battles erupted on the rings. Although it was a "King of the Hill" format, the matches were still 3v3, and the fighting was fierce.
Basalt remained unmoved, preparing to just cross his arms and watch the show. Although his strength wouldn't decrease, if he went up too early, all his trump cards would be exposed. Overall, it was a disadvantage. Basalt, a master of "playing it safe," wasn't about to take that risk.
He looked around and noticed a strange phenomenon.
Of the eight rings, seven already had battles raging. But the one closest to him was completely empty. Not a single person had gone up.
"What's this all about? Do you guys have some special unspoken rule?"
Basalt was confused. He looked at Amuyar, only to find him looking extremely awkward.
At the same time, Basalt noticed that the surrounding Roba youths seemed to have gathered around him, occasionally shooting him unfriendly glances.
"Crap!"
Basalt's eyes widened. A terrible premonition suddenly rose in his heart.
"The Roba Tribe is a people of great hospitality. So, no matter what good things we have, we always save a portion for our honored guests."
Amuyar hung his head and pointed at the empty ring. "So... this ring was specially saved for you."
Basalt felt like he'd been struck by lightning. Looking at the challenging gazes of the crowd, he forced a bitter smile. "I... I can really feel your... 'hospitality'."
Although he had wanted to lie low, it looked like that was no longer an option.
Fine! I'll go up! Are you happy now?
Basalt sighed, and under the watchful eyes of the countless Roba youths, he slowly walked onto the ring.
Each of the eight rings had a middle-aged man presiding as the referee.
Seeing Basalt take the ring, the man immediately shouted, "Who will be the first to challenge?"
"Me, me, me!"
"I, Ahtam, challenge you!"
In an instant, the crowd erupted. Countless people surged towards the edge of the ring, desperate to be the first to fight.
There were over a hundred young participants in the gathering this time. At least fifty of them—nearly half—had surrounded Basalt's ring. The sight made Basalt's head spin. He hadn't seen this much enthusiasm since... well, a long time.
"Why must men make things difficult for other men? Besides, I'm not even trying to steal your girls!" Basalt's mouth twitched.
He decided he could do without this kind of Roba "hospitality."
The referee glanced at Basalt, then at the surging crowd. He finally pointed to a tall, sturdy youth and shouted, "Ahtam, you're first!"
Hearing this, Ahtam was ecstatic. The others groaned in disappointment.
Looks like I won't be the first one to get a piece of him.
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