Scott sported a thin smile as he watched the orcs approach with a spring in their steps; their venomous eyes focused on him, grips tightening around their weapons. They ignored the surrounding groups, their attention solely locked on Scott, who stood alone.

  How should I deal with these guys? Scott mused, a brow raising as his thoughts wandered. Maybe I should use them to send a warning to the others… Scott suddenly abandoned his line of thought, scowling as he noticed something else.

  A massive, mangled maw had silently manifested beside the orcs—devouring corpses in its path. It reached the orc party, ripping through their torsos in a single gulp, then moved like a calamitous wave through the street. The decapitated remains of the unsuspecting champions fell eerily to the ground, but Scott’s focus remained on the monstrous maw as it continued consuming more bodies and unsuspecting champions further into the city.

  What the fuck was that? Scott pondered, shifting his gaze to the orcs’ remains.

  Miniature mouths gnawed on what was left, while even smaller mouths basked in the reverie of drinking fresh, muddied blood.

  Scott observed the surrounding champions, reading an array of emotions flashing across their faces. The silent massacre had ceased, and champions fled in all directions, desperate to escape the horrors unfolding before them.

  At that moment, runestones manifested over the spots where corpses once stacked, shooting toward the fleeing champions as if recognizing their new owners.

  So, the runestones track those who slay their previous owners, Scott deduced with a nod. Probably only twenty percent of the original three hundred thousand will make it to the 8th zone.

  As the runestones chased their new wielders, Scott noticed a series of others rising into midair. These, however, dimmed as cracks lined their surfaces. Before long, the items crumbled, returning to the earth as mere debris.

  Scott’s brows furrowed as the wind scattered the crushed runestones into the distance.

  Even less than twenty percent will survive this trial, he reasoned.

  The runestones that had crumbled had belonged to the champions devoured by the rampaging maw.

  Scott inhaled deeply, observing the remaining champions. Most bore gruesome injuries or some form of affliction, while only a few appeared unscathed. Yet, none moved unnecessarily, their visages clouded by fear and stupefaction.

  Scott averted his gaze, turning toward the rising steps where the dust trail led. Then, he focused on the arrowhead pointing in the opposite direction.

  There’s no reason for me to continue with these trials. I have more pressing matters to attend to, he mused.

  With that, he turned to the dome-shaped building once more, approaching in slow, measured steps.

  The miniature mouths gnawing at the slain champions’ remains scurried away at his approach, seemingly recoiling in fear. Scott paid them no mind and pressed forward.

  On his thirtieth step, however, he paused, and nihilistic portals materialized on either side of him. The mangled maws returned, approaching from both directions. As they bit into the void surrounding Scott, nihilistic tendrils lashed out, dragging them into the abyss.

  The portals disappeared, and Scott continued marching forward, unfazed by the stunned reactions of the watching champions. Those within his path quickly fled—some falling, their legs numb from the fear gripping their hearts.

  Within seconds, Scott arrived at the base of the steps and paused. His gaze fixed on the grand structure ahead. Here goes nothing… he exhaled, then began his second ascent.

  One step, two steps, three steps… soon, Scott arrived at the nineteenth step. He hesitated, staring at the seemingly innocuous twentieth. Lifting his right foot, he placed it onto the transformative step, and the eerie changes began anew.

  Scott lifted his other leg, planting it firmly on the twentieth step. A familiar chime tore through the silence, and the system notification manifested before him.

  Without Scott’s command, the map appeared from his inventory, unleashing a resplendent glow. The steps radiated a similar brilliance, and before his eyes, they merged into a flat plane. Then—a protrusion manifested at the center, rising until it formed a grand doorway housing a swirling portal.

  The map’s glow dimmed, and it vanished back into his inventory.

  Scott blinked several times, staring at the gateway that had formed. Questions filled his mind, but he knew this was neither the time nor the place to find answers. Without hesitation, he stepped forward, the crisp sound of boots pressing against glass echoing in his ears.

  Scott arrived before the doorway and paused. He turned back to where his journey had begun, but as before, nothing entered his vision. Lifting his head, he saw them—eyes like pillars of fire burning amidst the layers of billowing darkness. They focused solely on him, as if weighing the worth of his existence.

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  Scott met the gaze without fear, his brows creasing. Had he not looked, he wouldn’t have even known he was being watched. Yet despite his confidence, he made no attempt to provoke the entity behind those flames. He understood the depths of his own power, but even more so, he recognized that whatever lurked in that darkness was not something to be challenged lightly.

  With practiced precision, he averted his gaze and refocused on the portal. Without further delay, he stepped through the doorway.

  Scott skimmed the system messages while scanning his surroundings. Towering walls and empty roads stretched out before him—the all-too-familiar landscape of the Endless Bridge.

  I wonder how far I got transferred, Scott mused.

  A shimmering trail of stardust led ahead, and with a thought, he summoned his map. The projection appeared in his mind, confirming what he suspected.

  She wasn’t kidding about how far one could be kicked from the trial grounds. This would’ve taken me months on foot, he acknowledged, eyeing the path forward. But now… He grinned, dismissing the map. My destination is only a stone’s throw away.

  Wasting no time, he moved ahead with a spring in his step. One step, two steps, three steps—then, as he crossed an unassuming threshold, the world shifted. A system notification flashed before his eyes.

  The acrid stench of seared flesh, dried blood, and ash filled the air. Pillars of fire erupted into the sky at random intervals. Strewn across the battlefield lay the bodies of fallen champions—some fresh, others long since rotted.

  Scott’s expression remained impassive as he surveyed the scene. Wyverns, their armored riders clad in Viking furs, streaked through the sky, narrowly dodging the flames seeking to consume them. On the ground, he examined the corpses. Most of the male warriors wore similar Viking-style armor, but the women’s gear was different—thicker, sturdier, their bodies noticeably larger. And yet, their numbers were fewer. For every slain female warrior, at least twenty men lay in the corpse piles.

  Explosions thundered all around. Wails and screams faded into the cacophony of destruction.

  Looks like someone beat me to the punch, Scott thought with a chuckle. What are the odds I’d stumble into this place mid-invasion?

  It didn’t take long for him to notice the divide. The men and women weren’t of the same faction.

  The more I look at these corpses, the more certain I am—they belong to the same faction as that woman...

  Lost in thought, he stepped forward, undeterred. Corpses and pools of foul blood blocking his path vanished into nihilistic portals.

  Scott halted, his gaze flicking to the notification. Instinctively, he raised his head just as the charred remains of wyverns plummeted from the sky. Beyond the raging flames, a sigil formed—a muscular arm bursting with power, its mere presence causing the earth to tremble.

  A chime rang, and another message appeared.

  Scott ignored it, his attention shifting to the approaching army. Women clad in bloodstained, gleaming armor emerged from multiple directions, armed to the teeth. He scanned the battlefield, noting the aerial units soaring overhead and the burrowing ones concealed beneath the earth.

  They came prepared, he mused with a nod.

  “Halt!”

  The command rang out across the battlefield, and the advancing army stopped in unison.

  Scott turned toward the source of the voice. A towering woman with metallic blonde hair strode forward from the right. Her arms, thick with muscle, dwarfed those of the fallen Vikings. Crimson eyes burned with a barely contained thirst for violence—like a predator resisting its instincts.

  She halted a fair distance away, her impassive eyes sizing him up.

  “I’ll give you a choice,” she began, pointing her halberd toward Scott. “Leave now, or you and your army will be annihilated!” Her words left no room for retort.

  The surrounding champions shifted into battle formations, weapons trained on Scott, their collective bloodlust pressing against him like a tangible force.

  Scott’s gaze traveled across the battlefield, a thin smile forming. They can barely hide their confusion. Their senses must be telling them I’m alone, but they refuse to believe anyone would be that reckless, he mused, his eyes returning to the blonde warrior.

  Since that noisy woman isn’t here, could it be she was injured while fighting those three? Scott pondered.

  “What say you?” The woman’s roar cut through the battlefield once more, and the champions exuded even thicker bloodlust, awaiting the command to attack.

  Scott’s gaze flickered toward a group of champions carrying large brass bowls. Instead of water, crimson flames swirled within them—flames that neither seared their carriers nor those nearby.

  It seems they’re not playing around anymore, Scott thought, his grin sharpening. Then it’s time I get serious too.

  Several champions visibly retreated, unease twisting their visages.

  “Eliminate him—”

  The blonde warrior’s words had barely begun to echo when an even more powerful voice descended.

  “Stay your hands!”

  Instantly, all the champions—including the blonde woman—eerily composed themselves. Their bloodlust vanished as though it had never been.

  Scott followed the source of the familiar voice, raising his head toward the turbulent skies. A massive flood dragon streaked through the heavens, its piercing cries shaking the battlefield.

  Scott’s expression remained impassive, his gaze locking onto the figure standing atop the creature’s head.

  Finally, there she is, he thought, his smile brightening.

  The woman leaped from the dragon, descending toward the earth at breakneck speed—yet she didn’t crash. Instead, she hovered a few feet above the ground, her piercing gaze locked onto Scott.

  His attention dropped to her waist, where three freshly severed heads dangled, their hair strung together by a single, sturdy string.

  “I told you when I was done with those idiots, you’d be next,” the woman declared with a broad smile. “Who would’ve thought you’d save me the trouble of finding you?”