Chapter 4 – Into the Void

"Where.. am I?" Clico opened his eyes.

Darkness covered him, and an eerie silence made him feel uneasy. Looking around, he was alone and in the middle of a shadowy wasteland. He was on the Void Continent.

"What happened?" Clico thought.

The last thing Clico could remember was getting onto a boat with his party mates and heading towards the Void Continent. Were they shipwrecked?

He had to gather information quickly and reunite with his friends. The Void Continent's wastelands were notoriously dangerous. Unless someone entered one of the Great Dungeons, you would be hard pressed to find anywhere else in the world with stronger beasts.

Monsters who are born or live in the void are dubbed as the Voidlings. They have nested and taken the uninhabited parts of the Void Continent for themselves. Violent by nature, monsters, and Shades stronger than Omira have been said to naturally roam the Voidlands. Being alone here put Clico into a cautious mood. Although Clico was considered to be exceptionally powerful to the majority, encountering a strong voidling was not out of the question. Omira had over double the aura capacity of Clico, and yet, even she could also find herself in a bad situation if she wasn't careful. With skills as a war veteran, Clico could outmaneuver the stronger voidlings because of their low IQs, but their raw power and pack mentality could easily make up for their ineptitude.

Moving quickly, Clico surveyed the surrounding area. Just then, a loud speaker boomed across the barren landscape.

"Welcome participants to the second phase of the Great Dungeon Selection! We understand your confusion, but do not be worried! All three million of you have agreed to this challenge beforehand." Clico tried to find the origin of the announcer and speaker, but the vast sound seemed to cover hundreds of miles. Marveling at the expensive magical capabilities, Clico listened as the announcer continued,

"When you arrived at Phanec for the second phase of the Selection, each of you signed a soul contract with us and had your memories temporarily erased. We then dispersed all of you across the wastelands of the Void Continent.

Your goal is simple: Survive!"

Gasping at the ridiculous challenge, Clico used his soul inspection rune. Tied to his soul projection was a contracted paper, its contents blurred under the nature of the contract.

"Incredible. To think the Council would go to such extreme lengths for their Selection." Clico pondered. Despite the grave risks, three million people still agreed to enter the second round of the Selection.

"Hidden cameras and security teams are on high alert in case of emergency. By activating the 'emergency' clause on your soul contract, you will be immediately eliminated from the challenge, and our experts will arrive on the scene to protect you.

The time limit on this event is one week. Those who survive the challenge for one week can move onto the next round. Fighting other participants is highly discouraged but allowed. Murdering another participant will result in instant elimination.

A maximum of 100,000 participants can move on the next round, so if we go over time, we will continue until 100,000 remain. If we get to 100,000 participants before the seven days are up, we will end the event early. Survive by any means necessary, and good luck." Stunned, Clico gathered his thoughts.

By design, the first round of the Selection's average aura level was around a D rank Mortal. At birth, most people are born as a F rank Mortal. Training, knowledge, and experience could raise rank and aura capacity to the D rank, but reaching the next realm was incredibly rare. Clico could be considered to be in the top 10% of all aura users as a B rank Sage. Even with his advantages, luck would play a decisive factor in this round of the Selection. Putting millions into the voidlands was a recipe for disaster!

"What are they thinking!? There is no way for them to account for three million people… Even if they hire thousands of Sage tier guards, hundreds of thousands of people will be injured or worse!" Thought Clico. Signing the soul contract forced us into the event, and it would waive all liability. Would the council really allow the deaths of hundreds of thousands for the event? Surely, there was something deeper going on here. There was no logical way the High Mage Council would employ millions of first responders and endanger millions for drama. Even from a financial standpoint, they would lose millions of aura credits.

Shaking off his concerns, Clico tried to think of a plan. Killing other participants was illegal but crippling them was still in the rules. This logic could lead to stronger experts to bully the weak. Drawing too much attention would endanger the bullies to be picked off by peers of the same level. The weak would soon quit the challenge in the chaos.

The Council was ingenious in their trial design; by creating a difficult second challenge, the weak would quit or die, and the fearful would have gone home after being told the terms of the soul contract before entering the voidlands. Using a soul contract was a great way to keep ex-participants in check. If they entered the negotiations but felt the terms were to extreme, all they had to do to leave would be to sign a non-disclosure agreement. A soul contract by principle was a special magical spell that binds the soul to complete a consensual agreement. Unless he used the emergency clause or died, Clico was bound by the contract to participate.

Rumbling was heard in the distance. Voidlings were probably fighting a participant. It would be best to avoid the other participants and worry about himself. Lavilin had stolen away from Clico his greatest desire. Pulling out a broken heart necklace, Clico's resolve soared. Lavilin would pay for his crimes.

***

Hundreds of miles away, Omira awoke.

"What the… Where the Hell am I?" She shouted into the void and proceeded to run around in circles through the wasteland while looking for her friends. The announcer spoke, and Omira stopped in her tracks and listened. After listening, she jumped up and down joyfully.

"Aha! Once I defeat the other participants, I can leave sooner, right? What a fun game. Here I come!" Omira burst out into the horizon.

After running three miles straight, she ran into some civilians walking together.

"My first victims, hehehe," Omira schemed viciously. She jumped out in front of them and exerted her overpowering aura.

"A monster!" They yelled in fright.

"Activate your emergency clause and scram, or else!" Omira cried out menacingly. She raised her fist as if to punch them.

The two young men were instantly eliminated.

***

After an hour, the announcer spoke again,

"At the end of the first hour, over 500,000 people have been eliminated. For your own safety, if you are below a rank C Mortal, we strongly recommend resigning from the second round."

Eyes closed and meditating where he awoke an hour prior, Clico opened his blue eyes. After meditating for over a half an hour, he stretched. To Clico, the most reasonable course of action was to remain where he awoke. There were no Voidlings, participants, nor danger in sight. For all intents and purposes, there was no danger nor reason to venture elsewhere.

The only concern for Clico was finding shelter. In the Voidlands of the Void Continent, the air was contaminated with void energies. If one stayed out in the void for too long without protective gear or void warding magic, their skin and lungs would be infected with the Void Contamination Disease. Like a cancer to magic and life, the void would slowly rot the body away. Perhaps a reason behind staying a week here besides the beasts would be the impending danger the void posed. Lower ranked individuals would have a lower tolerance to the void and would be forced to quit sooner compared to Sage Realm individuals like Clico, Aventi, and Stern.

Another four hours passed quietly for Clico.

"At the end of the first five hours, over 1,500,000 million people have been eliminated. For your own safety, if you are below a rank C Mortal, we strongly recommend resigning from the second round."

"Unbelievable," thought Clico. It was unsurprising considering the dangers of the voidlands, however. Void contamination, beasts, and other participants would prey on the weak first. In the distance, first responder helicopters were occasionally seen picking up distraught participants. Although the resources the Selection Committee had at their disposal were bound to be extravagant, Clico frowned.

There was no reasonable was for the Council and its sponsors to save the majority of participants who were in danger. Something was very wrong here.

"Hello, can… can you help me?" A voice was heard behind Clico. A bleeding man had snuck up on Clico asking for help.

Clico jumped up in shock. To sneak up on Clico meant that the man injured man in front of him was stronger than him in aura or specialized in stealth. This was not a simple person.

"Who are you?" Clico backed up immediately.

"Please, please… I am a Sage with the kingdom of Agate. Do you have any health potions I could borrow? I will pay you back after the round. Please, I need help!" The supposed Sage begged. Inspecting the man, Clico analyzed that the man was at least a S Rank Sage or higher, but he had been brutally injured fighting another participant or beast.

"Hmm, I can't trust you. Make a soul contract with me or leave." Clico coldly responded. Invoking a soul contract was time consuming but a sure-fire way of guaranteeing his safety. Sages like Clico generally have basic spatial storage rings for their weapons, supplies, or potions, and Clico had a basic ring with essentials. Giving them to this man without the promise of compensation or protection would be foolish.

"Ahh, I guess I can't fool an expert…" The man grinned with malice. Suddenly, the injured man attacked. Prepared, Clico continued backing up defensively. The sloppy movements of the injured man completely overshadowed his clearly superior aura.

"Forgive me," Clico said as he swiftly broke the legs of the violent man in front of him. The man cried out in pain.

"Who are you really? Tell me and I'll let you go if you're truthful." Clico stared down at the disheveled thief.

"Argh, ha, I guess I can't hide it from you." The man coughed out blood while grinding his teeth in pain. "I'm actually just an ex-crime lord from the deserts of Pyrite. The only way they let me out of prison was to enter the competition…" He continued coughing from the blood loss.

"Interesting, the Council really is letting anyone join…" Clico thought out loud.

"I guess my times up though. There's no point going back to jail if I can't get in the final party." The man put his fingers to his head like a gun.

"Wait! Don't!" Clico yelled out, but it was too late. The criminal in front of him shot aura through his fingers and into his brain, killing himself instantly. Clico looked at him in pity.

"There will surely be a reckoning for the Council if this Selection fails to entertain…" Thought Clico. The death toll was rocketing, and the total disregard for human life in order to make the Selection as grand as possible would surely bite the Council in the future. Even with soul contracts in place, families would sue for years to come for death and injury.

Going all in, the High Mage Council wanted results over morality. Their reputation was ruined in the Shade War, and their last hope to maintain the fragile political balance was in the Dungeon Party Selection and subsequent Great Dungeon Party. Entertainment came at the cost of good planning. The stakes couldn't be higher. People would die. Lives would be ruined. Some would stand at the top and overcome. Broadcasting the exciting stories to the public would bring in viewers and revenue.

By any means necessary, they would entertain the world, conquer the dungeon, and arrest Lavilin. If the Greatest Dungeon Party failed to clear the dungeon, the Council's influence would crumble to zero. Not only their reputation was on the line, but Ryko's peace was at stake: If they failed, Ryko would descend into chaos.