Zack was still reflecting on his next step when the system interrupted him.
A notification slid into his vision.
Champion's Trial.
He frowned.
Is this the game the blond guy mentioned? And the system pinged him about earlier?
He opened the panel.
Winners would receive rewards.
The wording lingered on that promise, almost tempting, as if the system relied on mere temptation to convince him.
Continuing to read, he found out that participation was optional. Since he was still in the tutorial phase, opting out would carry no consequences.
If he decided to join, all he needed to do was confirm when prompted in the next hour.
Zack went still and slowly lifted his gaze.
Players around him were examining market boards, adjusting stats and comparing skills and quarrelling over prices, none paid him any attention.
Their expressions made it clear. He was the only person in the plaza who had received the notification.
He pondered. There might be other champions aside from him; the title hinted at it… For now, though, he had nothing but guesses.
Ultimately, he opted for the lesser risk.
If this was inevitable, it was wiser to get involved now while still shielded by the tutorial rather than being pulled in later under worse circumstances.
With his decision made, he shifted his focus to preparation and started replenishing his supplies.
***
He was still in the plaza of Gaia City when he received the message asking if he wanted to join?
Taking a deep breath, he hit confirm.
As soon as he did, he was teleported; his surroundings changed instantaneously, and he appeared in a different location.
Players similar to him were materializing nearby. The area resembled a large open hall.
Zack scanned his surroundings, observing others like him, some had their faces concealed, while others had altered their appearance too dramatically to resemble anyone else.
Few seemed as if they had committed unspeakable acts. They wore a smile that felt out of place in the current situation.
He also noticed users from the Dark factions, their avatars were easy to spot; cloaked in dark colors, with sharp teeth, markings and various piercings.
"So this is cross-server thingy," someone muttered nearby.
Low murmurs rippled through the hall.
A gnome stood atop the raised platform at its center.
Small in stature yet commanding the space with unsettling ease. His coat hung a size too large on his wiry frame, the fabric dark and worn, as though it had seen far more trials than its owner let on.
A thin cane rested in his grip, its head polished smooth by constant use.
When he spoke, the sound carried unnaturally far.
It pressed into Zack's ears, vibrating through bone rather than air, forcing him to clamp a hand over them.
His grin widened, reaching eyes of a pale, unnatural gold, bright despite their washed-out hue, as they tracked the crowd with calm, predatory patience.
"I see eager faces," he remarked, pacing slowly. "And some that are reluctant."
A few players shifted uncomfortably.
"Some of you chose to be here," he continued, letting the silence stretch. "Others did not." He paused, eyes sweeping the crowd, "Ultimately, it won't matter."
With a casual wave, he brushed aside whatever explanations he deemed unnecessary. "Those who already understand what this is, excellent. The rest of you will learn soon enough."
Then, A translucent screen materialized before Zack.
[Trial #013]
Two hundred participants. Random field.
Two hundred players will be dropped into an unknown arena. It's a free-for-all where you must fight; you can form teams, play alone or simply hide… the only condition is staying alive.
Players eliminated before the number of survivors falls below 100 will receive a penalty of -5 stats and -100 HP, while those eliminated after the survivor count drops below 100 will avoid this penalty.
The panel continued to grow. He read the next line.
If you manage to finish within the top 10, you will earn +5 stats and +100 HP.
As Zack processed that information, he glanced around, working as a team in this situation without sufficient information was likely a poor choice but he needed intelligence, and the gnome had clearly suggested that some players might be aware of what was going on.
Others around him seemed to share the same concerns. Suddenly, however, a countdown timer began, displaying five minutes.
The gnome resumed speaking. "Your names are hidden," he said, a thin snicker slipping through. "And you won't be inviting anyone either. So good luck trusting each others back."
Zack: "…"
He inhaled deeply and concentrated on those around him. It felt as though the scene was split equally between dark and light factions as he scanned his surroundings.
The classes of the dark faction shared similarities but also displayed distinct traits; some had advantages in poison, while others excelled in health and defense.
They boasted their own healer class known as 'Oracle' and a mage class called 'Pagan.'
Zack was uncertain about all their skills; he knew the Oracle's abilities were double-edged, as they traded their own health to heal others.
The same could be said for the pagan class, where offensive capabilities came at a cost, requiring players to give up health to unleash a spell, with damage output increasing the lower their health became.
There were too many combinations and Zack hadn't explored the skills of the other classes since the cross-server feature remained locked.
The countdown ended, cutting off Zack's thoughts mid-spiral.
In an instant, the world blurred around him, reality bending and folding as if the air itself had changed. When the shift ended, he was somewhere new.
He found himself in a region thick with foliage, where sunlight struggled through the dense canopy above, casting the forest floor in shifting shadows.
The cover was plentiful but visibility posed a challenge; spellcasters would find their magic hindered by the obstruction of the trees.
Zack realized it was an ideal area for the assassin/sin class.
Just as Zack was mulling over this thought, a player appeared from the woods. The two made eye contact, and Zack observed that his weapon was a blade, likely indicating he was a fighter.
He activated Detect, but to no avail; from what the gnome had explained, class and name visibility was disabled, though he still hoped for some insight. However, it yielded no information.
As if provoked by the mage's disregard, the fighter shouted and charged at him, employing a mobility skill before executing a charging attack that reduced damage taken while advancing.
Phantom Rush ( Lvl.2 )
Dash 8 m forward Deal 180% Physical Damage to enemies passed through. Take 40% reduced damage during the dash.
Zack didn't flinch. With a swift pulse of Adrenaline Rush, heightening his reflexes, casted Divine Barrier, and stepped back to put distance between them.
Feeling the surge of power, he bolstered himself further with Arcane Surge, enhancing his next strike, and followed immediately with a piercing Ice Lance, striking true for 760 damage.
The fighter closed the gap with terrifying speed, smashing Zack's barrier in a single, bone-jarring hit and leaving a crimson mark of 170 damage across his HP.
Yet in that instant, Zack noted the end of the charge animation. Without hesitation, he summoned Judgement Ray, a beam of divine retribution that cut through the panic-stricken fighter, ending the assault before he could even think to retreat.
Only a smoldering pile of charcoal remained where the fighter had fallen, there were no equipment drops to scavenge.
Zack then surveyed the area. The arena was vast, a sprawling forest that stretched in every direction, trees packed so tightly and rising so high that the edges vanished into layers of shadowed green, making its true boundaries impossible to see.
For a moment, he considered lying low, waiting for the numbers to thin below a hundred. But the thought quickly passed.
This was the only opportunity he had to gather information safely and he didn't want to squander it.
***
Not far off, a dark-faction warrior tore through the undergrowth. His skin was obsidian-black, crude markings etched along his neck and arms, and a massive battle axe swung in wide, merciless arcs.
He was locked in combat with a defender who had layered multiple defensive skills for damage reduction.
It didn't matter. The warrior's swings landed with the same force every time, as if the buffs hardly existed. A few seconds later, the defender collapsed, his body dissolving before it hit the ground.
Elsewhere, a different kind of hunt unfolded.
High above, a female archer crouched on a thick branch, her presence nearly invisible against the canopy. Below, two players moved with caution: a dark-faction pagan and a light-faction defender.
They had allied for survival, but the gap between them betrayed their distrust. Here, trust was a fragile commodity.
The archer swallowed a potion, drew her bow, and felt the arrow hum in her hand. Its frame was silver, the shaft pale white, dark veins of mana crawling along it like living shadows. Power surged through her.
Five seconds.
She released. The arrow screamed through the forest, striking the pagan in the chest with lethal precision. A crimson number flashed: 1530 CRITICAL. The pagan vanished in a blinding burst of light.
The defender reacted instantly, diving for cover. As he rolled, his eyes found the archer above. He didn't fight.
Instead, he triggered a mobility skill and bolted— straight into a concealed trap. Poison surged through his veins. Swearing, he downed a potion and cast a cleansing buff, forcing the debuff away.
For a moment, it looked like he might escape.
Then a flare of light erupted behind him. He twisted in time to take the next hit.
859 damage.
His health plummeted into the red. Bleed and poison combined, gnawing through him at 120 damage per second. He didn't last three seconds before he, too, dissolved.
The original two hundred participants were already fewer than one hundred and fifty and it hadn't even been long.
Zack reached the forest's edge and stopped. An opaque barrier blocked the path ahead, smooth, unyielding; a system-enforced limit.
He turned back, moving slower now, angling toward the center. He spotted no monsters, neutral threats. Only players.
Deeper in, Zack caught sight of the archer. She was finishing off a defender with ruthless precision. The man scrambled to evade, but the arrow twisted mid-flight, finding its mark with unerring accuracy.
The damage number that flashed made Zack's jaw tighten: over fifteen hundred— critical.
His health collapsed in an instant, and moments later, he vanished entirely.
Zack pressed himself against the trunk of a tree, eyes narrowing. The numbers weren't just high, they were absurd. Whoever she was, her damage was like him, offense that could erase anyone in a heartbeat.
He moved slowly, deliberately. A single misstep, a slight error in judgment, and she would immediately become his enemy. If he decided to act, it needed to be without flaw.
One good combo. One perfect execution. Anything short of that wouldn't merely result in failure; it would get him killed.