The crowd continued to swell as more delegations arrived, until the registration area felt less like a gathering and more like a compressed ocean of humanity. Jade remained at the edge of the Nexarion group, observing through his Divine Soul Dual Pupils—cataloging faces, analyzing power signatures, noting which delegations carried genuine threat versus empty bravado.
Most were negligible. A few sparked interest, but none warranted concern.
A deep, resonant tone suddenly echoed across the entire district. A vibration that passed through bodies and made the air itself hum. The massive holographic displays that had been showing rotating information flickered, then went dark.
Conversations died. Tens of thousands of participants fell silent.
The displays lit up again, now showing a single image: an ornate throne room constructed from what appeared to be crystallized starlight. And seated upon the throne, wearing robes that seemed woven from galaxies themselves, was the Emperor.
Jade had never seen the man before, but recognition was instant. This was power given form, not the raw strength of an awakener, but the accumulated weight of authority over fifteen galaxies and countless trillions of lives.
The sat with the regalty of a man used to reverence, his frame imposing and statuesque, with skin like polished obsidian that seemed to absorb the light around him. His eyes burned with an inner fire, stars reflected in their depths like celestial maps guiding the course of empires. He wore a cloak of starlight-embroidered black velvet, its hem pooling on the floor like a dark, shimmering lake. A simple, ornate circlet rested on his brow, its central gemstone pulsing with a soft, blue light.
"Stand," a voice commanded, coming from everywhere at once.
Around Jade, people straightened. Some bowed immediately. Others hesitated, then followed suit when they realized everyone else was moving. Jade inclined his head slightly, enough to show awareness of protocol, but not so much as to suggest genuine deference.
The Emperor's image shifted, his gaze seeming to sweep across all of them despite this being a recording. When he spoke, his voice carried the practiced warmth of someone who'd perfected benevolence as a political tool.
"Children of the Aethorian Empire," he began, and Jade could practically hear Selene's dramatic swoon from galaxies away. "You stand before me as the finest of your generation. The strongest. The most talented. The future upon which our great civilization will be built...."
.....
Meanwhile, in the Valtorian Galaxy's Heliaster system, Herculio Prime...
Valemir Vonrath Herculio sat in his private study, a glass of wine forgotten in his hand as he watched the Emperor's address on a floating holographic display. His expression carried the particular disdain that came from seeing through political theater so transparent it insulted his intelligence.
"The future of our civilization," he muttered, taking a sip. "As if any of these children will change the power structure one iota."
....
The Emperor continued his speech, words flowing like honey over daggers. "You have trained for this moment. Sacrificed for it. And now, you will prove yourselves worthy of the glory that awaits. For in your hands rests not just your own fate, but the fate of your planets, your people, your legacies."
Valemir snorted softly. Translation: Perform well and we might notice you. Fail and be forgotten.
-------------------------------------------------------
Alien Battlefield.
Aurelien's private quarters...
Aurelien Kaelion Herculio sat in his private study within Fortress Solarius, reviewing tactical reports from the latest incursion. His golden eyes scanned data with mechanical efficiency, his expression perfectly neutral—the practiced composure that had become second nature after seven years in Tartarus and five years commanding this hellish battlefield.
A knock at the door. "My lord?"
"Enter."
Rowan burst in with the kind of enthusiasm that always preceded something Aurelien would find unnecessary. His massive frame filled the doorway, grin wide, holding a datapad like it contained the secrets of the universe.
"My lord! The Tenday Tournament is starting! You have to watch!"
Aurelien didn't look up from his reports. "No."
"But—"
"I have reviewed three hundred tournament records over the past decades. They follow predictable patterns. Wealthy core world participants dominate. Backwater delegations are eliminated quickly. Final matches are between individuals whose families have been grooming them since birth. There is nothing to be gained from watching choreographed violence."
Rowan's enthusiasm didn't dim. "But what if this year is different?"
"It won't be."
"You don't know that!"
Aurelien finally looked up, recognizing that particular stubborn set to Rowan's jaw. This conversation wouldn't end until one of them won.
"Fine," Aurelien said, making a decision. "A wager."
Rowan's eyes lit up immediately. "I'm listening."
"If there exists a single participant in this tournament worthy of my sustained attention, someone genuinely interesting rather than merely competent, then I will watch the entire event and personally train with you for a month without suppressants."
Training with Aurelien at full power was something Rowan had been requesting for years. His grin widened. "And if there isn't?"
"You cease pestering me about tournament broadcasts forever."
"Deal!" Rowan said immediately, clearly thinking he'd won.
Aurelien turned back to his reports, already regretting the wager. He'd seen too many tournaments. This would be no different.
But Rowan was already setting up the holographic display, pulling up the tournament feed with the eagerness of someone who thought they'd just secured victory.
....
Back at the tournament planet...
"...and so I say to you," the Emperor declared, his voice rising with manufactured passion, "go forth! Show the empire your strength! Prove that the future is bright, that our civilization grows stronger with each generation! Let your victories echo across the stars!"
The crowd erupted in cheers—some genuine, most performative. Jade remained silent, his expression neutral behind his hood.
The Emperor's image faded, replaced by something new: a figure that materialized in the air above the registration area with perfect clarity. Human in appearance, elderly features, dignified bearing, wearing formal attire that suggested service rather than authority. But the slight shimmer around its edges betrayed its true nature.
"Greetings, participants," the figure said, its voice carrying perfect clarity despite addressing tens of thousands. "I am Majordomo Prime, administrator of the Tenday Tournament. You may think of me as both host and referee for the events ahead."
The robot—for that's what it was, despite appearances—clasped its hands behind its back in a gesture so naturally human that Jade had to actively remind himself this was artificial intelligence given form.
"The rules are simple," Majordomo Prime continued. "You will be transported to a designated combat zone, a continent on this planet that has been isolated and prepared specifically for this purpose. You will remain there for exactly one standard week."
Holographic displays activated around the registration area, showing footage of the continent in question. Jade's eyes analyzed every detail with perfect clarity. Dense forests, mountain ranges, sprawling plains, and ruins of what looked like abandoned cities. But more importantly, his pupils caught what others might miss: the faint shimmer of massive barriers surrounding the entire landmass, and the occasional glimpse of movement that suggested the area wasn't as abandoned as it appeared.
"Each of you will be provided with an identification device," Majordomo Prime said, and smaller displays showed what looked like a wristwatch. "This device serves three functions: it tracks your location, monitors your vital signs, and most importantly, records your accumulated points."
The crowd shifted, attention sharpening. This was the core of the elimination round.
"Points are earned through combat," Majordomo Prime explained. "Every creature you eliminate will be automatically registered and credited to your account. The point value corresponds to the threat level: F-rank creatures award one point. E-rank awards two. D-rank awards four. The value doubles with each ascending rank."
Jade did the mental math automatically. An SS-rank creature would be worth... substantial points. But the likelihood of encountering one was minimal. Most participants would be fighting E through B-rank threats, accumulating points slowly through volume rather than quality.
"Additionally," Majordomo Prime continued, and something in its tone made the crowd tense, "you may earn points by eliminating other participants. Doing so will credit you with exactly half of that participant's accumulated points."
Murmurs rippled through the gathered thousands. This changed the dynamic significantly—it wasn't just about hunting creatures, but about predation among the participants themselves.
"There's only one rule in this round," Majordomo Prime said. "Survive. Everything else—alliances, betrayals, theft, cooperation, wealth, connections—all are permitted. We measure strength in all its forms. If you possess resources that help you survive, that too is strength. If you can convince others to fight on your behalf, that too is strength."
The message was clear: anything goes.
"At the end of one week," Majordomo Prime continued, "the top ten thousand participants by point total will advance to the next round. All others will be eliminated from the tournament and returned to their delegations."
Ten thousand. Out of roughly two million participants. The odds were brutal.
"One final note," Majordomo Prime said. "This tournament is broadcast across the empire. Your families, your planets, your potential sponsors—all will be watching. The displays around you will show live feeds from the continent, focusing primarily on participants ranked within the top one thousand. You may choose which feeds to observe, and those watching from other worlds will have similar access."
Jade caught Lio and Niamh exchanging glances. They'd be able to watch him, at least until he dropped below the top thousand threshold. That was... both comforting and concerning. He'd prefer privacy, but at least they wouldn't worry unnecessarily.
"The prizes," Majordomo Prime said, and the crowd's attention sharpened further. "For those who advance beyond the elimination round, rewards await at each threshold."
New displays materialized, showing elegant script:
TOP 10,000:Advancement to Round Two
TOP 1,000: Academy admissions+ Potential Sponsorship Opportunities
TOP 500: Stellar Core (One per participant)
TOP 100: Astral Awakening Pill (One per participant) + Admission into The Celestial Interstellar Institute.
TOP 10: Permanent 20% Discount Access to the Interstellar Market
TOP 3: Access to Interstellar Legacy Sites
FIRST PLACE: Custom Starship with Integrated Personal customized AI.
The crowd's reaction was immediate and visceral. People gasped, shouted, talked excitedly with their neighbors. These weren't token prizes—these were life-changing rewards. Academy admission alone was worth more than most planets' annual GDP. The Stellar Core could catapult someone's power level dramatically. And a custom starship? That was wealth beyond imagination.
Jade studied the list with clinical interest. The Academy admission was useful but not essential. The Stellar Core was interesting. The pill might be valuable. But the starship...
Actually, that would be quite nice. Never having to rely on commercial transport again, having his own independent means of interstellar travel. Yes, that would be acceptable.
He'd just have to win.
"Preparation time is now concluded," Majordomo Prime announced. "Collection devices will be distributed momentarily. Once equipped, you will be transported to the continent. The elimination round will begin exactly one hour after the final participant arrives, giving all participants time to orient themselves."
Smaller drones began descending from above, each carrying what looked like a simple black wristwatch. They distributed systematically, moving through the crowd with mechanical efficiency.
When Jade's arrived, he examined it with his Divine Soul Dual Pupils before putting it on. The device was more sophisticated than its simple appearance suggested—complex arrays of monitoring technology wrapped in a deceptively plain case. It sealed around his wrist automatically, adjusting to fit perfectly.
A small holographic display activated above the watch face, showing:
PARTICIPANT #847,392
POINTS: 0
RANK: UNRANKED
STATUS: STANDBY
So he wouldn't be "Jade" during this round. Just a number. That suited him fine.
Around him, other participants were receiving their devices and checking their assigned numbers. Some seemed pleased with their designations, as if the number itself held meaning. Others frowned, disappointed.
"Nexarion delegation, prepare for transport," an official called out.
Jade exchanged final glances with Lio and Niamh. No words needed—they'd already said everything that mattered. Just a nod of understanding, of trust, of determination.
"Good luck," Niamh said quietly.
"Don't die," Lio added with a weak attempt at humor.
"I won't," Jade promised.
The world flashed white.
....