Chapter 3: The Official Elite Tryouts Start

Everyone in the crowd froze in a various array of postures. Moments after they got to their seats the group battle ended, and in both ghastly and bloody manner, at that.

“Is ... is that it?” Someone asked in a barely audible voice.

“In just a few seconds he took out five of the eight of them, killing three of them, not less...” Another person mentioned waveringly.

“How terrible, he even didn’t spare the woman...”

“Dad, dad, what Martial school this expert belongs to? Please sign me in!” Among the crowd, several of the most invigorated voices were of children, either crying in fear or full of admiration.

“You wish to learn this expert’s method, boy? Do you wish to die?”

The common people shared mix emotions as the group battle appeared to reach its conclusion. The Elite Tryouts occurred in the same location every couple of centuries, so of course they could not remember and compose themselves to the ferociousness and slaughter that were regulated in the fighting matches of the entertainment industry.

“Anyway, if this is just a quick skirmish for a new addition to tomorrow’s finals, then it was worth the trouble of getting early to save seats”.

Slowly more people were influenced by the hype. As horrifying as this group battle was, in the past year of the preliminaries there were many matches that ended gruesomely and then talked about in details in newspapers and all sort of establishment around the city, even in some of the congregations, and no matter how scary were the participants, the common people always felt secure due to the presence of the church and The Almighty in their hearts.

“I...” Funwa gritted his teeth. “Surrender”.

“I, too, give up”. The pink Two Headed Sparrow lowered both his heads in resignation, as well as discontent.

“Then leave the arena”. Sister Mafita’s voice rang in the ears of everyone within encompassing square. With a wave of hand she disintegrated the three bodies on the arena, sending four spatial rings to Zax.

Disgruntled, Funwas and the pink Two Headed Sparrow left in a walk and flight.

“What’s your name, contender?” Sister Mafita asked Zax.

“Karim, no last name, from everywhere in the Western Continent”. Zax answered, assuming the identity of a vagabond since it was easier to reply when being asked specific questions.

“Karim the wonderer, than. You are a bodily cultivator ... Not many appeared up till now in the preliminaries, and you also combine assassination techniques to your style”. She loudly assessed as if describing him to someone far away.

Zax stretched his lips to his hideous smile as means of confirmation.

“Go to the registration booth. If you registered as a ‘Later Arrival’ change it to ‘Participant’ and make sure to get a number”. Sister Mafita instructed and averted her attention to the crowd below. “All you, late Martial Mortals, who were patient for your turn and wish to join the Holy Palace, must first join Luminous Church and accumulate enough merit. Though Elite Tryouts are for Core Masters, during this time’s tryouts, staying with us as an esteemed guest is Cardinal Northstar. In his benevolence, Cardinal Northstar agreed to receive and take with him to the Holy Palace Martial Mortals who will prove their skills by either hunting the Pure Core of a Deformed Being comparable to fourth level Martial Mortal or ten Pure Cores of a Deformed Being comparable to third level Martial Mortal. These conditions also extend to Core Masters who may dare to accept them, be only sure to remember that The Almighty does not aid the foolish”.

Letting her words sink in everybody’s attentive ears, Sister Mafita held her hands in a praying gesture. “May The Almighty bless you”.

“May The Almighty bless you”. The common people, residents of the great Onzengvas city, repeated in union.

The registration booths closed in the evening, though after Zax, Els and Sioul no late arrivals, tested or not, could register.

The three that made it to the finals vanished from the Grand Abode’s zone quickly after registering. A large number of people desired moment of their time for interviews and signing signatures, but for the three the Elite Tryouts was not that type of event. If someone wants to capitalize on it, it had nothing to do with them.

Back at the base of the city, inside a two rooms unit in a cordial inn, Zax sat on his bed with the four rings lying on the white sheets. He rented the unit because he had to lay low, Onzengvas city had a curfew between ten at night to six in the morning and only people with permit, mostly business owners, could stay out late or leave their homes early.

‘All together two hundred and ten thousand Splinters, two second realm Pure Cores useful for cultivating to the third Core Master level, useless scrolls and weapons’. Zax viewed the items in the four spatial rings. Other than the Splinter even the Pure Cores were not worth giving to others or going through the trouble of selling. He stored them the spatial rings in his pocket, the spaces inside them were reasonable in size, so they might be useful in the future.

Lying with his hands behind his head, deliberating and his eyes gazing at the wooden ceiling of the room, Zax recounted the zone of the Grand Abode. ‘It’s extremely large, but the structure is actually accessible to the public. I assume through specific corridors and rooms... ‘ It was helpful to know that if he would change his appearance he will be able to enter the Grand Abode inconspicuously. ‘Tomorrow the finals start and will continue for a seven days. Eight hundred contenders who passed with the best marks the preliminaries’ initial tests of ability and combat and two hundred who seeds of the church’.

From what he was told in the registration booth, the preliminaries will hold three advanced tests of ability and will officially end after an inevitable Martial competition, which afterwards the top hundred participants will be selected.

‘A test of understanding the attribute, a test of soul, a test of Martial art and a fight’. Zax counted them, closing his eyes. It had been a long time since he allowed himself just a regular rest, not cultivation of the body or the soul, not pursuing the sixth bottleneck of insight. Leaning on his left side, his last thought before falling asleep was halfway discarded. There was no point overthinking what tomorrow would bring.