The second stage of the tournament was usually when the higher clans began paying much closer attention to everything happening inside the battlefield.
There was a simple reason for that.
This stage decided which clans truly had talent.
Which ones had the determination to keep fighting.
Which ones had the will to stand their ground when things became difficult.
Many clans chose to withdraw after clearing the first stage.
They accepted their results, protected their members, and settled for reaching the middle ranks.
Others, however, chose to keep pushing forward despite the growing danger.
One of the beings who had started paying close attention to the tournament was Jovisrax himself.
Earlier, he had silently complained about how predictable the tournament had become.
Nothing unusual had happened.
Everything had followed the same pattern as previous years.
But that soon changed.
The Khyphon Clan.
They had caught his attention.
Jovisrax had noticed their decisive movements.
A single member of the Khyphon Clan would appear in an area, quickly eliminate the remaining clans there, and disappear just as fast.
Their actions were efficient.
Clean.
Decisive.
There was no hesitation in the way they fought.
That was why something didn't sit right with him.
One member of the Khyphon Clan had just finished dealing with several clans in one particular region.
Yet instead of continuing through the tournament, that person immediately chose to quit.
That decision puzzled Jovisrax.
Normally, he would have assumed the participant had exhausted their strength or suffered serious injuries during the battle.
That wasn't unusual in the second stage.
However, Jovisrax possessed something the others didn't.
His display interface showed everything happening throughout the tournament.
Every participant.
Every movement.
Every withdrawal.
Nothing escaped his notice.
Because of that, he knew something wasn't adding up.
Every piece of data from the wristband was continuously being transmitted to this display.
The wristband could read a great deal about a participant's body.
It monitored energy reserves.
It tracked physical condition.
It measured injuries and overall status.
Everything shown on the display told the same story.
The participant who had just exited the tournament was still in peak condition.
There were no signs of exhaustion.
No critical injuries.
Nothing suggested that person needed to withdraw.
Even so, Jovisrax couldn't afford to dwell on it for long.
He immediately shifted his display to another member of the Khyphon Clan.
This one was already locked in battle against a group of ten participants.
The fight was fierce.
But just as Jovisrax had observed before, it didn't last long.
The Khyphon Clan member moved with ruthless efficiency.
Some of the fighters were killed with a single strike.
Others suffered injuries severe enough for the tournament's protection system to activate automatically, removing them from the battlefield before they could die.
One after another, the group fell.
The battle ended almost as quickly as it had begun.
The Khyphon Clan member stood as the clear victor.
Then, after waiting only a brief moment, that same participant chose to quit the tournament.
The figure disappeared from the battlefield.
Jovisrax narrowed his eyes.
'With this level of strength, they could challenge even the top clans... and perhaps win.'
'But it seems they have no interest in the final prize.'
That was the conclusion he reached.
However, what Jovisrax didn't know was that he had misunderstood everything.
At that very moment, another member of the Khyphon Clan had also exited the tournament.
But that wasn't the important part.
What truly mattered...
Was what the members of the Khyphon Clan were doing after they left the tournament.
In the world's most popular colosseum, deep underground, men clad in cloaks with their faces completely hidden walked through the passageways.
There were about ten of them.
Leading the group was a large, muscular man carrying a massive sledgehammer.
The weapon was unusually large.
Both ends of it were fitted with hammerheads, making it a heavy double-headed hammer.
Unlike the others, this man wasn't dressed in a cloak.
He wore the same uniform as the guards responsible for protecting the colosseum.
The group continued deeper into the underground corridors.
Then, the guard suddenly stopped and turned to face them.
"You start drawing the ruin from here, and be quick about it," Shagun said.
"We need it finished and ready soon."
"Yes, sir!" the cloaked men replied in unison.
Without another word, they immediately got to work.
Some knelt on the ground.
Others spread out through the passage, each beginning their assigned task.
Meanwhile, Shagun, the head of the colosseum guards, could only smirk as he watched everyone begin working.
---
Meanwhile, as the tournament became increasingly intense, the Wyndham participants decided to play it safe.
Rather than continue moving around, they searched for another place to hide.
Eventually, they found another shelter similar to the one they had used before.
It was a small storage room inside the remains of a ruined shop within a shopping complex.
Like everything else in the tournament grounds, the place had long been destroyed.
Broken shelves were scattered around the room.
Dust covered every corner.
Pieces of cracked concrete and wood littered the floor.
Even so, they chose to stay there.
Out of every place they had found so far, it was the only one with a proper door that could be closed, making it a much safer hiding place.
"You know, at some point, we'll have to come out and fight whatever is still outside. Or we quit the tournament now and settle for our current score," Clifford said as he walked back after placing a chair on top of the large barricade they had built in front of the door to keep whatever was outside from getting in.
The barricade was crude.
Tables.
Broken shelves.
Chairs.
Anything heavy enough to slow the beasts outside had been piled against the entrance.
"That's why we have to stall for as long as we can," Zephyr replied.
"Surely the others out there will have to deal with it. All we need to do is be among the last people to leave this tournament."
"We have to make that happen."
Everyone could hear the determination in his voice.
They could see it in his eyes as well.
He wasn't joking.
He intended to stay until the very end.
The truth was, they all admired that resolve.
But the pressure was beginning to build.
The opponents left in the tournament were no longer ordinary participants.
They were facing people far stronger than themselves.
Every passing minute made the tournament even more dangerous.
"What about him?" Gavalich suddenly asked.
"Who?" Zephyr turned toward him.
"I mean Alex," Gavalich replied.
"We left him with that Synapse lady."
"There's no way he'd be able to get away from her."
The room fell silent.
Zephyr didn't say anything.
He simply stood there, lost in thought.
"I have a feeling we won't have to worry about him," Clifford said.
"Why?" Gavalich asked immediately.
The others also turned to look at Clifford.
Every pair of eyes settled on him, waiting for his answer.
"I could feel the energy between the two."
"It wasn't hostile."
"It felt like... two people who already knew each other," Clifford said.
"Hahaha!"
Isla burst into laughter.
"So you're suggesting that someone like Alex knows... or is even friends with someone at that girl's level?" she asked, still smiling.
"Yeah. Besides, Alex claimed that a member of the Synapse Circle nearly killed him."
"I highly doubt that," Lennox added.
Clifford simply shrugged.
"I'm only telling you what I felt," he said.
Then, all of a sudden, his expression changed.
The relaxed look on his face disappeared.
His brows furrowed.
"We have a problem."
He quickly moved toward the others.
The moment the rest heard those words, they immediately got to their feet.
The atmosphere inside the room changed instantly.
Everyone gathered together.
Weapons were raised.
Bodies tensed.
"What do you sense?" Zephyr asked.
"It's familiar... but it isn't a beast," Clifford replied.
Bang!
Without warning, a loud explosion came from the door.
Every barrier they had stacked in front of it was blasted backward.
Tables.
Chairs.
Wooden planks.
Broken shelves.
Countless random objects flew across the room like deadly projectiles.
The Wyndham members reacted immediately.
Some raised their arms.
Others tried to shield themselves with whatever they could.
Even so, there wasn't enough time.
Crash!
Thud!
The flying debris slammed into them one after another.
Pain shot through their bodies as they endured the impact.
Eventually, the barrage stopped.
One by one, they steadied themselves and immediately turned toward the doorway.
A lone figure stood there.
The person wore a long cloak with a deep hood.
Beneath the hood, the face was hidden behind a dark mirage, making it impossible to make out any features.
The stranger looked at the group before speaking.
"Look at this."
"Trying to get clever in the middle of a tournament like this."
"Did you actually think it would be that easy to hide in here and come out at the last moment to claim your victory?"