Chapter 853 The Tournament of Power Begins
A few more weeks passed, and the real world buzzed with anticipation.
The long-awaited Tournament of Power was finally announced, set to begin in the bustling metropolis of Graena City, the capital city of Freyles.
For the outside world, the tournament organizers are Freyles
Kingdom's royal family and Camelot's royal family. Leah Pendragon was the face of the tournament, the President of the committee, and all. Only the hidden clans and some ancient organizations knew that the Death Clan was behind this.
The official notice went viral across the NetSync Network, the premier communication system in the modern world.
Two strict conditions were listed in bold red font, making it clear this wasn't just any tournament:
1. No third-party weapons, armor, or support items of any kind (in the preliminaries).
2. The participant's bone age must be 18 or under.
The restrictions are pretty much the same as world championships, except that in the preliminaries, even a weapon was banned.
Then came the rewards, staggering enough to shake even the most stoic elite families. It was much higher than what world champions will offer for even a senior division, especially for the champion.
Prize Structure:
Champion: 10 million credits + Rank-10 Activated Skill Card + Knowledge Transfer Card.
Runner-up: 5 million credits + Two Rank-9 Cards
3rd-4th: Choice of 10 million credits or one Rank-9 Card
5th-8th: 5 million credits + one Rank-8 Card
9th-16th: 1 million credits + one Rank-7 Card
17th-32nd: 500k credits
33rd-64th: 200k credits
65th-128th: 50k credits
129th-256th: 10k credits
*
The prize pool alone was enough to ignite wild competition, but it was the 16 seeded spots that drew the most attention.
Twelve of these were already reserved for elite warriors, most of whom were unknown to the world, as these are the warriors of Hidden Clans who never participated in any public tournament.
However, the remaining four spots were awarded to prodigies who had made a mark in the recent World Championship, their names rising like meteors in the sky.
Neither the organizing committee nor Leah had clarified to the press to what criteria they used for the seeding spots. A number of conspiracy theories and rumors spread over the internet like wildfire.
As the announcement swept through every corner of the world, the nation of Freyles became the focal point of attention.
Over the next three weeks, a series of qualification tests will supposedly take place across 12 major cities throughout Freyles. However, these weren't your typical tests, where warriors fight against each other.
These preliminaries are actually a warrior fighting a battle robot.
Each city was equipped with a high-level battle robot, calibrated specifically for the event.
Every registered participant would face off against the battle robot in a 100-second trial.
The rules were simple:
The robot would unleash a barrage of attacks using real combat AI.
Participants had to showcase their power, agility, and intelligence to counter it.
Their performance would be scored and uploaded to the official Tournament of Power website in real time.
But there was a twist.
If someone managed to completely disable the robot within the time
limit, their score would break the system, registering an "Error" mark with a perfect 1,000,000 points, a feat considered nearly impossible.
Entry Fee:
To encourage participation, the entry cost was a mere 100 credits-a symbolic gesture, accessible to anyone.
Better yet, participants could attempt as many times as they wanted, provided they paid the fee again. This made the arenas buzz with hopefuls, determined to break their previous best and push further up the rankings.
Advancement & Rewards for Preliminaries:
At the end of the three weeks, the top 48 scorers across all venues would qualify to join the 16 seeded elites in the Main Tournament. Rankings 49 to 208 would receive rewards according to the prize chart.
The top 64 would also be honored in public broadcasts and news
coverage.
The chosen 64 would receive free accommodations, meals, and services for the tournament's duration. The rest, while still rewarded, had to manage on their own.
*
With massive cash prizes, skill cards, and prestige on the line, tens of thousands from across the globe registered, whether through online or offline at the test centers. Aspiring youth, Monster Hunters from the guilds, academy prodigies, and even rogue Arcana masters all flocked to Freyles.
As crowds gathered and arenas filled with spectators and competitors, tourism skyrocketed, obviously. Hotels were booked out,
vendors flooded the streets, and cityscapes turned into festive
grounds.
For the first time in decades, Freyles became the center of the
modern world.
September 18th, 2043;
Graena City, Republic of Freyles.
Ten days into the ongoing qualification rounds, Snow City, nestled in the north of Freyles, was buried under blankets of white. But inside its central combat dome, the atmosphere was far from cold. Orion stood quietly in line, hands in his coat pockets, his expression
neutral.
Unlike many others from the Hidden Clans, he hadn't been given a seeded position. The reason was simple. He is not qualified to get such a position. Azzy didn't play favorites for Orion. By fair chance, he gave it to Fiona Garcia and Heracles Silver, great-great-grandson of the Silver Clan's Lord. Under 18, he is the strongest after Fiona, having
the soul realm of 7-star.
And Orion was also fine with that.
For over two hours, he had been waiting patiently outside the arena, watching participants enter it one after another, only to come out dejected or carried out on stretchers.
Inside, a Rank-7 battle robot was decimating the applicants. It moved
with brutal precision and merciless intent, its heavy strikes calibrated to push the limits of young warriors.
The audience, once excited, was now yawning and restless as they had been watching nothing but failures for an entire hour.
When Orion's turn came, no one in the crowd stirred either. He walked into the arena without flair. No powerful aura, no energy bursts, no intimidating glare, just a calm, unremarkable entrance. The proctor, an older cultivator with a trained eye, frowned as he
looked Orion up and down.
"Ugh... another plainfolk is attempting to try his luck?" The proctor shook his head in annoyance. "Why do these plainfolks even think that they can display power with just fists, and compare themselves with Arcana masters while facing such a robot?" Meanwhile, the robot powered up, its red eyes glowing. The 100-second timer began its countdown.
Orion took a breath, rolled his shoulders, and slipped into a low battle
stance. One leg behind, one forward, hand at his side.
His eyes narrowed, making a small gesture, beckoning the robot to
attack.
For ten seconds, nothing happened according to standard AI delay protocol, giving participants a brief advantage.
Then, with a thunderous thud, the battle robot charged.
The audience barely reacted. They had seen this a dozen times
already.
The Proctor also shut his eyes, shaking his head. "Another kid was
about to get wrecked. I hope it controls its strength and not
accidentally kill him or something."
But the moment the robot neared... Orion's body tensed, muscles flexing, veins bulging under his skin.
In a split second, divine energy surged, flooding his arm with power
as it swirled and condensed like a raging storm in his palm. "What..." The Proctor saw golden energy erupt from the boy. "Wait a second. I still can't sense his soul energy..."
With perfect timing, Orion then stepped into the strike and punched.
The robot's chest caved in, metal shrieking as a fist-sized hole burst clean through its reinforced titanium alloy armor. The crowd gasped as the robot froze, staggered, then collapsed, sparking and twitching. A moment later, the score display flashed...
ERROR.
"What in the hell was that?" The Proctor looked like his eyeballs were going to pop out before his face lit up. "We found a fuc*ing dark horse... haha..."