Chapter 164: Rules
Central City Arena...
"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to this year’s Chosen Tournament. My name is Mithrash, and beside me is..."
Two commentators sat behind a suspended high platform table, with special crystals that could amplify sound throughout the entire arena, ensuring that whether in the ordinary spectator stands or the designated viewing areas for each race, everyone could clearly hear.
"Count Dragon," the other commentator spoke. "Unlike previous tournaments, we have quite the exciting faces this year, and I’m more than excited to see what they are capable of."
At this moment, the thirty two candidates who had advanced stood at the center of the arena.
Zich stood among the crowd, but his gaze was not lingering on the cheering spectators. Instead, it swept past the edge of the arena toward the high, private VIP boxes wrapped in isolation barriers.
Those boxes were not transparent; only vague silhouettes moving within could be faintly discerned. But judging by the strength of the barriers, the positioning of the guards, and the attitudes of the other representatives nearby, the people sitting inside were absolutely no ordinary audience.
They were powerhouses from various races, and they had come to see who was worth remembering, who was worth investing in, and who might become a problem in the future.
Zich merely swept his gaze across them once before withdrawing part of his attention.
Just then, an even greater uproar erupted from the spectator stands.
A figure emerged from a box above the human platform, then stepped directly into the air and descended.
He didn’t fall and crash to the ground like some people had anticipated. Instead, he was suspended in midair.
The man wore a dark, long coat, his posture upright and commanding. His black hair was streaked with a few strands of silver, and his face bore little expression, yet he naturally drew the gaze of the entire venue.
The man was none other than the President of the Human Players Association and Helen’s father, Arthur Magnus.
He did not unfurl wings or use any flight equipment, simply standing there in midair as if invisible steps beneath his feet supported him, allowing him to slowly descend above the arena.
This sight left many of the candidates visibly shocked.
On the First Layer, those capable of flight were not nonexistent, but most relied on wing type skills, flying mounts, specialized equipment, or short term levitation techniques. Someone like Arthur, standing in the air with absolutely no external aid, was far too rare a sight.
Zich looked up at him as well, a rare flicker of interest passing through his eyes.
"Flight..." he murmured quietly.
If this ability could be used stably, its value would be immense. Movement, reconnaissance, escape, suppression, every combat option would change entirely because of the shift in altitude.
From the distant seats of the Verhari, a few low whispers drifted over.
"Showing off the human president’s might again."
"Hmph, they certainly know how to put on a display."
But the reaction in the human spectator section was entirely different.
The faces of many players held clear pride, and some younger players even stood up to cheer. To them, Arthur standing in midair was not merely the entrance of a powerhouse; it was the face and prestige that humanity presented before all the other races.
"President!"
"President Arthur!"
"This is the strength of the Top Five!"
Wave after wave of cheers resounded. Arthur made no deliberate response to those voices.
He simply raised a single hand, and the sound throughout the arena gradually subsided.
This silence was not forced, but rather because everyone was willing to give him that respect.
Arthur’s voice then rang out, steadily spreading across the entire venue.
"Candidates, the first phase has ended. Those standing here have already proven their qualifications to continue receiving the gaze of the First Layer."
All thirty two candidates looked up at him.
Some eyes burned with fervor.
Some expressions were calm and steady.
And some, like Zich, were simply waiting for the rules.
Arthur continued, "From here on, the Chosen One Tournament officially enters the elimination battle stage."
The holographic screen flickered to life accordingly.
[Tournament Rules]
[1. There are thirty two participants in this round.]
[2. The format is single elimination; one loss results in immediate elimination.]
[3. Match pairings are decided randomly. The system will draw opponents for each round.]
[4. Each participant will receive a White Crystal as a personal identification number.]
[5. When your White Crystal lights up, you must immediately step forward and prepare for combat.]
[6. Only the two participants whose White Crystals light up will battle per match.]
[7. The winner advances to the next round.]
[8. The loser is eliminated.]
[9. This phase consists of five rounds in total.]
[Round 1: 32 to 16]
[Round 2: 16 to 8]
[Round 3: 8 to 4]
[Round 4: Semi Finals, 4 to 2]
[Round 5: Final, 2 to 1]
[10. The final victor will earn the title of the First Layer’s strongest young player and receive the grand prize of this Chosen One Tournament.]
The rules materialized one by one. The sound from the spectator stands grew increasingly fervent with each line.
In the first phase, one could still advance through survival and judge evaluation.
But starting now, a loss meant exactly that, a loss. There would not be any supplementary selection, being pulled back by the judges, or hiding in the chaos waiting for the timer to end.
To continue standing here, one had to win.
Zich looked at the rules with narrowed eyes. This meant he could not decide when he would fight, nor could he know his opponent in advance. Compared to the first phase, these rules were more direct and more likely to force people to reveal their true combat strength.
At the very least, this kind of rule had not too many twists and turns.
Just then, thirty two White Crystals slowly floated up from the center of the arena and flew toward each candidate respectively.
One White Crystal stopped before Zich.
It was only the size of a knuckle, with a faint stream of light flowing inside, like sealed star points.
Zich reached out and caught it.
The crystal felt slightly cool as it landed in his palm.
[Zich Grave — Identification Crystal Registered]
Around him, the other candidates received their crystals as well.
After catching his, Braka grinned and squeezed it, as if testing whether he could crush it. Only after finding the crystal completely immovable did he contentedly put it away.
Mira tucked hers into her sleeve, her movements very natural.
Jayden glanced at his before simply hanging it at his waist.
Lucien stood in the distance, gently clasping his White Crystal, his face still bearing a gentle smile.
Everyone could feel it. The atmosphere had already begun to change; not only in the arena but also the several viewing centres in the real world.
The first phase was filtering.
Now was the stage where names were truly etched into the audience’s memory.
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