The opening ceremony of the tournament was supposed to be a spectacular event, with thousands of challengers — each of them a talented Awakened fighter — gathered in the magnificent central courtyard of the illusory Bastion. Slightly more than a thousand of them were those participating in the individual competition, and the rest were members of competing cohorts.
The Saint that was representing Valor welcomed them and gave a short speech, after which, a pair of siblings with strange feathered appendages poking out of their heads — a Saint and a Master, twins — followed suit. The former simply gave a short but pleasant speech, while the latter gave plenty of thanks and encouragements with a beautiful, almost hypnotic voice.
If Sunny was there, he would recognize their pleasant voice as the one that read all the announcements in the Dreamscape.
But he wasn't.
Why would he waste time on these theatrics? He skipped the speeches, the performances, the incredible montage of the most exciting moments from the battles of the previous day, and even the event that everyone had been waiting for with bated breath — the formation of the tournament bracket that would determine who would face whom and in what order.
Sunny didn't care who was going to fight him, he just wanted to kill somebody as soon as possible.
With each round of duels, half of the participants were going to be eliminated. That meant that he had to win ten consecutive fights to receive the best reward. Of course, it wasn't an easy task… by now, there were no amateurs remaining in the tournament. Every single one of the thousand challengers was a formidable warrior, and by the end of it, only true talents would remain.
It was also a perfect chance for him to try and learn their polished battle styles.
Sunny waited until the bracket was almost complete and finally dove into the Dreamscape. The menacing black figure of Mongrel appeared among the crowd of challengers, causing a bit of a stir. Immediately, those closest to him began to whisper.
"Hey! It's him!"
"Man. The bastard is even scarier in real life. That scene from the montage... gods, I'm so glad we chose to enter the tournament as a cohort!"
"What's the big deal? I hope I draw him as an opponent… crushing this wannabe should be fun…"
Ignoring the whispers, Sunny looked around with curiosity. He wasn't interested in the people gathered around him, not even those famous Saints and leaders who were holding the event, but in the courtyard itself. This was his first time inside Bastion… well, an illusory version of it. Still, he couldn't help but feel a bit of awe. This was a legendary place… one of the earliest Citadels conquered by humans, their greatest foothold in the Dream Realm. The seat of a Great Clan's power.
...And the former stronghold of one of the Daemons.
Sunny's curiosity didn't last long, however, quickly drowned by anger and annoyance.
His hands were itching to slaughter someone. As he looked around, he ended up finding Dan Heng, March, and Seele conversing together. His gaze lingered on them for a while, before looking back at the bracket.
Finally, the bracket was complete. Sunny didn't bother to study it and just prepared himself for the battle.
A few seconds later, his vision darkened for a moment, and then he found himself in the courtyard again — only this time, the crowd of challengers was gone, leaving only him and his opponent standing opposite each other.
There were flags streaming in the air, and thousands of excited spectators looking down from the stands. They were chanting, screaming, and waving their hands.
His opponent was a young man in a striking bloodred armor, wielding a long espadon. He looked vaguely familiar.
As soon as the young man saw the black mask, his face paled.
"I knew this would happen! Crap, not agai…"
Sunny growled and dashed forward, raising the Soul Serpent.
A few moments later, a human head flew into the air, the audience exploded with cheers, and the pleasant voice announced:
"Challenger Paradise in Red was eliminated!"
***
Soon, it was time for Sunny's last duel of the day. Once again, he appeared in the courtyard and glanced at his opponent, excited to learn what style they were going to use.
When he saw the enemy, though, a dark smile appeared on his face.
'What a nice surprise… so we meet again! Or rather, for the first time. Yesterday, we didn't have a chance to get properly acquainted, you bastard…'
Opposite him stood a tall young man with broad shoulders and an incredibly muscular physique. He looked mighty and confident, like a statue of an ancient deity come to life.
...It was the damned archer who had almost sniped him from across the arena during the battle royale.
'Dar of the Maharana clan, was it? Well, well. Let me introduce myself…'