Chapter 95: What Does the Jungle Hide?

  Two figures were making their way through a sparser patch of the 60th dimension’s jungle. One was a plump devil encased in a magical barrier; the other was a battle-weary human leading the way.

  The former, Alfons, turned toward his companion with a hint of hesitation.

  "Are you sure you’re alright? We can stop if you want."

  Hearing those words, Justinian felt the pulse at his temple quicken despite his exhaustion. He even wondered if he had made the right choice in bringing young Rudnicki along. He took several deep breaths, trying to compose himself.

  "I’m fine. For some reason, there are far fewer beasts here; I want to find a safe haven in this area."

  Alfons didn’t look entirely convinced, but he eventually nodded. He clearly respected the Grim Judge and his decisions. Even so, a certain internal conflict was visible on his face, which he eventually gave voice to.

  "What about all those energy traces surrounding us?"

  Justinian stopped, startled, and looked at Alfons. The boy didn't look like those strange creatures had harmed him.

  "You feel them too?"

  "I have for a while now."

  'Could the earlier theory—that it was all just the effect of the poison—be wrong?'

  Justinian frowned; the situation was deeply strange. After a moment’s thought, he decided the matter should be put off until they were in a safer position.

  They continued their journey for another good fifteen minutes. Eventually, they reached a spot where, at the edge of his cultivation sense, Justinian could no longer detect the signatures of the one-eyed beasts. He signaled to Alfons that they could stop, and the young nobleman nodded with visible relief. Justinian didn't blame him; they had been on the move for hours.

  'If it weren't for the omnipresent life energy manifesting throughout the jungle, I’m not sure I would have made it...'

  Still pondering the mystery of the spirits and why Alfons could sense them, Justinian decided to scout the immediate area. Although there were fewer trees here than where they had come from, he saw nothing particularly special about the place.

  'So why would the beasts stay away from here?'

  The answer came less than a minute later when he flew high into the air, trying to scan the surroundings. Not far from their position, he spotted an area that looked as though a cataclysmic force had swept through it.

  Giant trees lay snapped and overturned. Unnatural ash began without warning, completely surrounded by the green forest. The devastation stretched for at least several kilometers. Within this ruined space lay a multitude of craters, looking like the aftermath of massive explosions. Some were so deep that the darkness within them obscured the bottom.

  The mere sight of them gave Justinian an uneasy feeling, but they didn't have many other options. After a brief consideration, he returned to Alfons. The boy looked at him expectantly as the Grim Judge announced his decision:

  "We stay here until I recover my energy."

  The other adepts were also having a terrible evening.

  The representatives of the 61st dimension, gathered into a single group thanks to cooperation between the conspiring dimensions, stood in a circle surrounded by the bloody remains of dead beasts. Under Svarticus's command, they had managed to sow terror in the hearts of the attacking creatures. Though the campaign was exhausting, the 61st had yet to suffer any losses, and any beasts seeing the grim battlefield immediately turned to flee.

  Elsewhere in the jungle, the penitents of Dimension 66.6 displayed heroic resolve. Standing shoulder to shoulder, they struggled to hold back wave after wave of attackers. The great hooded robes shrouding their bodies were almost entirely stained with the blood of their enemies. They couldn't match the raw power of the 61st dimension, but for the first time in the entire ceremony, they earned a degree of sympathy from the devilish audience.

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  Dimension 62 seemed to have the easiest time surviving. Thanks to their elixirs, the alchemists there were essentially ignored by the jungle's inhabitants. At the opposite end of the spectrum was Dimension 64; relying on mounted combat for their cultivation, they were significantly weakened in the dense forest.

  The watching devils, bored for most of the day and thus more prone to bickering, finally began to get excited.

  "Go for it, Dimension 63! Show them the true strength of the Two-Lines!"

  "Is it just me, or is the beer in the lounge watered down?"

  "My arse hurts from all this sitting."

  There was some controversy regarding the blatant cooperation between different dimensions. If it were purely about tournament rivalry, it might have been acceptable, but the feuds between the devils ran deeper. Particular scrutiny was placed on the "silent cooperation" between dimensions dominated by two opposing religious currents—the Two-Lines and the Three-Lines.

  However, all these reactions had one exception that defied all rules. It united seemingly unrelated devils who might differ in origin or appearance. In their hearts, however, burned the fire of a shared grudge, and the name they took—the Anti-Justinian League—spoke for itself.

  "Everyone against that damn human!"

  "Svarticus is a true hero!"

  "Never again defeat!"

  Svarticus, after his impressive display of power, had become an inspiring example for them—a beacon of hope that restoring normalcy and getting rid of the "damn anomaly" was possible.

  Animation also returned to the honorary box, where Mikromegas and Observer Envidius watched the competition. The former turned to his guest.

  "What are your impressions of the spectacle so far?"

  Envidius paused to think before answering.

  "Svarticus of the 61st dimension is showing he has more potential than just the Devil's Virtue of Wrath. I was skeptical of him, but he has the makings of a good leader. The cooperation of the penitents' dimension also deserves praise."

  The host nodded. "Do you still plan to recruit a few adepts? After Alia took the Third Oath, you should have high prospects in the 32nd dimension."

  The corner of Envidius’s mouth twitched slightly.

  "That’s true, but I still believe that as Observers, we aren't utilizing our full potential. If Svarticus doesn't disappoint in this event, I’ll give him a chance."

  Mikromegas looked at him with interest. "What would count as 'not a disappointment'?"

  Envidius answered with a slight smile.

  "He simply has to prove he is the strongest of them all."

  While the rest of the cadets struggled with aggressive beasts, Septima was finishing the creation of a defensive formation around her position. She had chosen a spot on a low-lying rock that provided a good view of the immediate area.

  The concentration on her face and a certain look of anticipation reflected the weight of the moment she found herself in.

  'Who would have thought that the chance Mikromegas gave me for empowerment would look like this...'

  She knew the history of the "planet" they were on, and through this competition, she saw a real opportunity to gain new strength.

  'It is certainly much greater than the observation of that human suggested by Maleficius...'

  As she etched the final symbols onto the stone, she thought back to the previous weeks spent on this strange expedition. The ridiculous argument over fashion in the transition dimension and the perfect score in the opening ceremony flashed through her mind.

  There were also the daily spars—where she felt a strange satisfaction from every duel she eventually won—and the unexpected dance at the banquet.

  'All a waste of time.'

  Yet, for some reason, this waste of time... didn't seem to irritate her at all. Slightly disbelieving of this absurd observation, she shook her head with an ironic smirk.

  'Have I suppressed my emotions so much that I can't even motivate myself to be annoyed?'

  Ultimately, it didn't matter. What mattered was that time was running out, and the curse remained unmoved.

  'Still... Maleficius was wrong in his assessment of Justinian’s foundation.'

  It was true that his Foundation was unique and simultaneously inconsistent with the path indicated by the King of Names and Symbols. However, Septima noticed deep differences between their situations. A minor coincidence in their circumstances could not hold much value in the face of everything that was about to happen.

  'Besides, that man is simply a fool...'

  Irritating examples of his behavior drifted through her mind as she considered it all. Even now, she remembered how he had bristled after their first spar, practically asking for a beating. She remembered her satisfaction when she actually gave him one the next day.

  Through it all, she had a strange feeling that his ridiculous cultivation wouldn't stop at Foundation Stabilization.

  'It’s just a shame it can’t help me.'

  She took a deep breath and purged herself of these doubts. She had an important task to perform, especially since there wasn't much time left. The magical formation around her glowed, coming to life.

  The moment it did, Septima’s image vanished from the crystal monitors that allowed the devils to track the events in the jungle.

  Then, certain of her safety, she reached out her hand and released a black flame of darkness, which soon began to shimmer on the rock before her.

  'Let’s see what this place can bring forth.'

  A moment after the flame was released, the air around her swarmed with hundreds, if not thousands, of ghastly green spirits. All were drawn toward the deviless, and upon every one of their faces was a mask of absolute terror.