While the Emerald Hills of Sector Three were impossible to live in for ordinary people, it was still teeming with life. Big and small, they lived in an ecosystem that was alive and flourishing.

  Sector Four was none of those things. It was the first Sector where life had to struggle to survive, where the original creatures exited their native sector en masse. Bringing terror and death to the lower Sectors.

  At least that’s what the Realmers had said.

  A constant gray haze hung in the air. It would choke the life out of any creature under realm two. The skies were always cloudy, occasionally it would rain, bringing down acid that would burn the skin and eat away at everything. Sometimes a manastorm would form by itself, bringing with it a terror of acidic fluids and magical gray lightning that even the strongest adventurers in the fourth realm had to flee from.

  And that was only the environmental hazards.

  Ryan took in a deep breath of the gray haze. Barely feeling the effects of the poisonous haze himself. He had been waiting for over thirty minutes, and was starting to worry that Cerul had been caught and Pinkie had gotten bored of looking for him.

  His phone, or rather, Felsley’s phone was on a frequency that should have made it easy for him to be found.

  Sector Four was odd in that it was the only Sector that was smaller than the preceding sectors. As Ryan understood it, Sector Four was about half the size of the United States. Something that shouldn’t take too long for a dragonslayer to sweep through.

  That also meant that he couldn’t wear his Artigan mask without the risk of getting yoinked by an enterprising dragonslayer. While blacklisted dragonslayers could technically get brownie points by turning him over, Ryan was hoping that the threat of the Witch Tyrant hosting the tournament in Sector Four would be enough to ward them off.

  It still left well over a hundred dragonslayers that could try to catch the great and terrible Artigan anyway.

  His bounty had become too large for even them to ignore.

  If he had to guess, the dragonslayers were all circling the leveled zone, making sure he couldn’t pull a Lazhen again. People had deduced that Artigan had indeed operated in and out of the leveled zones by tracking the odd migrations.

  There was zero chance Ryan was going to be able to sneak into the only leveled zones in tiny sector.

  “C’mon Pinkie, if you don’t find me soon, I’m going to retreat to Sector Two.”

  The Trial System had put his randomized teleport close to the border of Sector Two. That said it all, really. There wasn’t anywhere that was safe for him to travel through right now.

  “I knew you were a coward.”

  The voice next to him almost made him jump. Ryan rolled his eyes instead.

  “How long have you been watching me?”

  “Enough time to know you seem more afraid of other dragonslayers than you are of .”

  The pink haired dragonslayer did not seem antsy this time. She was calm and focused instead, her eyes were already draconic. She tilted her head at him, her eyes turning into slits, then she sniffed.

  “What did you do to your body?”

  “Nothing important.”

  “Prove you’re who I think you are.”

  Ryan paused, then he went to a small pile of rubble and kicked off a piece of rock. There, underneath were Larix’s robes and the Artigan mask. He raised the white porcelain mask towards his face. Now he was back to being Artigan.

  “Are you happy?”

  Her fingers turned into claws.

  “Your body, it’s different.”

  “You thought somebody laid a trap with my actual face for you?”

  “Can never be too safe. You could have been caught by another dragonslayer and they were pretending to be you.”

  Pinkie was being oddly for a lack of a better word. Normal and cautious. Ryan smirked.

  “You’re awfully nervous. The last thing you told me was that you were the craziest bitch alive. I hope that’s still true.”

  Pinkie’s claws turned back into hands.

  “You’d be nervous too if you really knew what you’re doing.”

  “Walking right into the Witch Tyrant’s plans?”

  “”

  “Oh I can imagine, throwing adventurers into hellish situations. Picking out the worst scenarios to really push them to the limit and coldly watching them die when they fail to be strong enough.”

  The pink haired dragonslayer blinked, then she grinned.

  “Good. I hope you’re ready to suffer.”

  Ryan’s eyes flashed blue and red, then he looked around.

  “Did you see a big bird I asked you to look out for?”

  “No? You told me to look out for a Cerulean Crow, but they’re hard to find after you’ve eaten quite a few of them.”

  Ryan raised an eyebrow.

  “Ah shit.”

  –

  Three adventurers sat around a table away from the adventurer’s Guild. There were only a handful of buildings here, and none of them were real permanent structures. Getting a System Portal in close vicinity to the exit portal had required five of the best teams to hunt down a monster and drag it out of the Cataclysm Abyss. That had been six years ago. It was only a matter of time until a manastorm would make them all flee and a monster would snatch the portal.

  Around a certain table in Gravenmarch sat three adventurers. The bodies of the hopeful lay scattered in a radius. It wasn't a hazing, it was more of the reverse. All of the veterans in the Fourth realm were trying to prove themselves to the three newbies to join their team.

  The tournament had multiple brackets for different team sizes. This team of three might decide to add more to their squad and it made all the veterans go into a frenzy.

  The tournament was only two days away after all, this trio couldn’t be too picky. Unfortunately the test was too hard.

  If you tried to approach? You would slip and get a whip to your face.

  If you tried to balance or jump over the ground? You would get a barrage of [Firebolts] in your face.

  If you managed to slip through the barrage? A flat sided [Uncanny Cleave] would track your movements and hit you in your face.

  A massive [Warrior] slammed his chest with a fist. He roared to all the adventurers watching the show.

  “Here is my application!”

  The monster sized [Warrior] took a running start, then bellyflopped onto the slippery ground. He slid forward, his arms wide. A firebolt hit him in the face and didn’t slow him.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  The [Swordsman] put a hand on his sword, but the [Mage] shook his head.

  “Allow me.”

  A blue bolt of magic whizzed faster than anything anyone had seen the [Mage] try before. It broke the sound barrier and hit the ground right in front of the belly sliding [Warrior].

  A localized concussive explosion rang the [Warrior’s] skull and knocked him out. The orc [Rogue] took out two of her silken bindings and had them wrap around Bearheart’s legs. Then she flung him into the wall.

  None of the three even looked up. The orc [Rogue] just looked at the [Mage] curiously.

  “What was that?”

  “A specialized [Implosion] spell. I’ve decided to take a step away from crowd control so I can hit harder targets.”

  “Not a bad move.”

  A roar came from the entrance. Valee rolled her eyes.

  “, when will they stop?”

  “MY NAAAME IS RIELLA KINGSTRIKE! OF THE KINGSTRIKE FAMILY! HOW DARE YOU–”

  “AND WE DON’T GIVE A FUCK. NUT UP, OR SHUT UP!”

  Valee’s roar was louder than the [Warrior] from the Kingstrike family. It was not, however, louder than the shriek and the unsheathing of blades from Riella. Everyone started dashing away from the mad woman.

  Ten swords flew around in unison around her. She jumped on one to bypass the ground and nine others flew around her to strike at whatever barrage of magic that would come out from the [Mage]. The rest of her focus was on the [Warrior] and the [Rogue].

  Valee signalled to the two that she would handle this herself.

  She threw one of her arms forward. Five of her bindings snaked out at the [Warrior]. Riella tried to sweep the bindings away at speed–only to find that each individual binding wrapped around her swords and broke her formation. She still had more swords–

  Riella missed the binding that had snaked up from the ground and grabbed the handle of the sword she was riding on.

  It pulled the blade from underneath her, making the [Warrior] go flying into a patch of max friction ground.

  Yet that wasn’t enough to deter the [Warrior] from the Kingstrike family. She stood up, her nose bleeding and took out another sword from her pouch–only to miss a binding snaking up from behind her. It wrapped around her neck.

  Riella’s eyes went wide.

  “Wait–”

  Valee flicked her arm and slammed the [Warrior] backwards into the wooden ground. . Riella’s head smashed through the reinforced wooden boards, knocking her out. Her body joined six others with their heads shoved into the ground.

  The [Mage] raised an eyebrow at the [Rogue]. Valee just shrugged.

  “Yeah, I went with a mental skill. These bindings are too good to not capitalize on.”

  “Fair enough. You do know you’re just encouraging them right?”

  The smirk and glint from the orc’s eye indicated that Valee knew what she was doing.

  “Maybe someone interesting will pop up.”

  Her eyes darted to a sleazy [Rogue] that was chatting away to another adventurer. The [Rogue] lifted his hooded head in surprise and turned back at the orc.

  “Wow, busted. Not bad for a newbie.”

  The [Rogue] picked up the chair he was sitting on. Then started gliding towards the trio. When a high friction patch appeared right before him, he simply hopped over it. The [Mage] raised a finger, then put it down, understanding that he wouldn’t be able to hit this one.

  The [Swordsman], however, had none of the reserve.

  Zedart’s blade flashed out. The approaching [Rogue] sneered.

  “”

  He dodged every single strike coming from Zedart with smooth drawn out movements that made it look like it was effortless.

  The [Rogue] had closed the gap and placed his chair and sat down.

  Now the three became four.

  He pulled off his hood. He was human but one of the oddest humans you’d ever see. A hair of dark shiny purple with crystalline blue eyes that, while looked natural on him, would never be found on Earth. This was an adventurer born elf that had done the opposite of what most human adventurers did. He had chosen to be human so he could customize his looks.

  Elarin Strider. Aka Shadowstrider.

  A very arrogant adventurer's name to take. Though, not without good reason. Shadowstrider had an Epic of his own.

  He tapped on the table.

  “Soooo… I can be convinced to join your team, for a fee.”

  Valee rolled her eyes. “Not interested.”

  “Hey, I wasn’t talking about money. I’m no merc adventurer.” Elarin sounded offended. “My fee is very simple. If one of you can push Juniper to reveal the melded skill she’s been hiding in the singles tournament, I can promise that we’ll win the open teams section. Who knows, maybe we’ll mesh enough to go all the way together?”

  “Yeah right. That deal only benefits you. Besides, you’re a solo adventurer, we’re not idiots.”

  Shadowstrider’s smile didn’t break. was what Valee felt from him, sleazy but dangerous.

  “What I’m saying is that you’re newbies. You might be talented, but everyone in the top four have Epics. Juniper’s been practicing with hers for three years. All for this tournament. I bet your Epics are still level one, two at most. Hers is probably–”

  “Telling us doesn’t change anything.” Valee pointed a thumbed at her [Swordsman]. “Besides, I bet this idiot doesn’t even know who Juniper is.”

  Zedart bristled at that. “I know who Juniper is. She’s the strongest fourth realm.”

  This time Shadowstrider’s smile froze on his face. It was one thing for anyone else to say Juniper was the strongest fourth realm. It was another for a very earnest [Swordsman] to very earnestly tell you that she was stronger.

  Zedart came in with a finisher.

  “Ah, other than Artigan of course.”

  Valee could Shadowstrider’s blood pressure rise.

  “You idiot newbies don’t know shit. You think that a brand new fourther with an Epic, even two Epics puts them on the same level as us? If any of us in the top four were at Lazhen, Artigan would be dead.” His voice was spitting venom.

  Zedart tilted his head. “Sorry, I didn’t realize you were in the top four. What’s your name?”

  Valee laughed so hard it could probably be heard throughout the entire town. She had been completely wrong about Zedart’s previous line being the finisher, this one actually made Shadowstrider’s blood vessel pop. She could feel it.

  He wasn’t even embarrassed, it just was pure rage from the lack of respect. The [Rogue] slammed his hands on the table and stood up.

  “Alright, that's it, swordboy. You and me outside. I’ll carve my name onto that blade of yours.”

  Mahjit put his hand up. “If I may. Zedart truly meant no insult when he said that. Besides, do you really want to reveal your cards this close to the tournament?”

  Shadowstrider scoffed, but quickly cooled down. He sat back on the chair and glared at the orc that was still laughing at him.

  Valee stopped laughing… after five more seconds.

  “Look Elarin. Shadowstrider. We aren’t planning on joining the tournament, that’s the honest truth.”

  Riella’s head popped out from the hole it had been smashed into.

  “What?! This wasn’t a test?!”

  Shadowstrider gave the fourther a glare that popped everyones’ [Dangersense]. Riella’s eyes went wide and she sheepishly shoved her head back into the hole.

  Elarin turned back to Valee, his eyes sharpening. “You’re staying here in case Artigan chooses to exit while everyone’s distracted.”

  Valee paused. It wasn’t a bad assessment. The tournament city was a day’s jog from Gravenmarch outside of a leveled zone. It would make sense for Artigan to exit here the moment when everyone's attention had moved to the biggest event in The Realm.

  Valee didn’t confirm or deny the theory. She deflected.

  “There’s other reasons too. Zedart’s parents would snatch him up if he left a leveled zone. I’m staying out of the limelight cause I’ve got a crazy Realmer that’s probably going to kill me if she finds me, and Mahjit still has his actual team to wait for.”

  Elarin made a face rolled his head back. “Manager’s damned. I was wondering why you lot were taking so long. What a waste of time.”

  Shadowstrider stood up and shook his head, then started walking off. Ignoring the frictionless ground beneath him.

  He paused after a few steps, then turned around.

  “Hey swordboy. You really think Artigan’s stronger than Juniper?”

  Zedart nodded.

  Shadowstrider scoffed. “That’s why you’re newbies. If you ever saw the tournament live, you wouldn’t say anything like that.”

  Shadowstrider strided out of the tavern.

  Mahjit opened up a privacy bubble around them. Now that everyone knew that they weren’t looking for teammates for the tournament, nobody else was willing to challenge the trio’s little test. The [Mage] turned to the others.

  “Did you notice?”

  “Yeah, he wasn’t here to scout us out. He was waiting for Artigan to show up.”

  Mahjit turned to the large screen in the center, the timer for the opening ceremony to the tournament was on.

  “You think he’ll show up?”

  Valee shook her head. “I think even he’s not reckless enough to go to a non-leveled zone.”

  Zedart just stared at the television. “He did say that with what he’ll do, none of us will be able to catch up.”

  Both Valee and Mahjit looked at Artigan’s biggest fan in disbelief. The [Swordsman’s] clear eyes shone brightly. They turned to the TV.

  –

  All around The Realm and on Earth, everyone was starting to tune in. Data lines running through the portals transmitted a live feed of the tournament. This was a rare one. The Witch Tyrant, fresh off her massacre of dozens of dragonslayers, was hosting the tournament. Something that she hadn’t done for several decades.

  Before the Tyrants were going to attempt the Highest Trial. Before the next realm expansion.

  Everyone from both worlds gathered, forming watch parties at each others’ homes. Streamers co-hosted the tournament, sometimes providing insightful commentary–though mostly there to react and make loud noises.

  They all joined to see the next set of rising stars. The next generation that would certainly leave their mark and make their way to dragonslayer status.

  They gathered to witness the next [Strongest of the Fourth Realm].

  The timer ticked down.

  3…

  2…

  1

  The ceremony started off with a camera panning over a great city in Sector Four. The that existed in the barren wasteland. It was aptly called Defiance. The shining city stood proudly against the crumbling world. Telling all that civilization wouldn’t just survive but would thrive, even in the worst of locations.

  Against the incessant dark gray haze and gloomy backdrop of Sector Four, the vibrant city started throwing off fireworks.

  The loud lights and explosions scared the horrors from Sector Four away.

  The camera then panned to the stadium. One that was larger than anything on Earth, divided into multiple brightly colored biomes and sections. Designed to test the mettle of any adventurers that dared to come.

  Then it panned to the one who stood above it all. The one who was hosting the tournament. The Witch Tyrant, in too-white robes, sat on a throne. Coldly looking down at everything and everyone.

  Finally, the camera turned around to show who was recording it. The cameraman, or in this case, camerawoman beamed at the camera, a mic in her hand. She was a strikingly beautiful human with flowing black hair and slightly too form-fitting robes for her unnecessarily voluptuous frame.

  Gamielle beamed at the camera.

  “WEEEELCOOOOME TO THE FOURTHER TOURNAMENT.”

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