Return of the Runebound Professor Chapter 872: Old Faithful

Noah and his companions were guided by their assigned badges through the city's thoroughfares. To Noah's surprise, despite navigating increasingly dense throngs of people, the crowds were far smaller than he had anticipated for an event of this magnitude.

He managed to get a look at a badge worn by someone passing by. Intriguingly, it was not directing them in the same way theirs were. It appeared everyone was being directed to distinct starting points. This raised the question of whether Brayden had merely been fortunate to be assigned the same location as them, as his badge indicated the same direction as Noah and Lee's.

It wasn't a matter of assignment based on rank. Although Lee was likely at the very pinnacle of Rank 4, she had yet to attain Rank 5. She wasn't in the same tournament section as Noah and Brayden—and none of them knew Fist's actual strength.

The sorting must have utilized a different methodology. Alternatively, they could have simply been incredibly lucky… but Noah wasn't one to rely on such coincidences.

Regardless, they had no cause for complaint. The badges led them beneath the shimmering waterways that coursed through the colossal city and down numerous streets until they found themselves joining a procession moving with considerable speed into an elegant marble edifice.

The structure itself was by no means large enough to accommodate the vast number of individuals entering it. It was a mere single story, and despite the exquisite artistry dedicated to the fluid designs of water and shells cradling magnificent, radiant pearls within its confines, it could scarcely hold more than a hundred people at any given time.

It seemed no one had conveyed this limitation to the waiting queue. The line advanced in short, intermittent segments, halting for approximately a minute before recommencing. Before long, Noah's group passed through the welcoming doors. They found themselves in a chamber utterly devoid of furniture. It was constructed of plain white marble, lacking even a single chair or window.

At the far end of the room stood a bald man attired in white robes. The sight nearly caused Noah to gag. For a fleeting moment, he mistook him for Ferdinand. He soon realized this was simply another member of the Church of Renewal who happened to be bald. Perhaps all the men were. Noah hadn't precisely made it a point to seek out church members.

Two imposing women stood at either side of the bald man, adorned in gleaming silver armor emanating a faint, pearlescent glow. They were not bald. Perhaps only the men were required to be bald—or perhaps Noah had just encountered the only other bald member of the church by sheer chance. Each woman wore a short sword at her side, similarly imbued. It required no profound domain to discern that their gear was formidable. Even without employing his senses, Noah could perceive the palpable magic radiating from the guards.

Behind them stretched a vast portal along the entire rear wall. It spanned the wall completely, its surface undulating like a rain-kissed lake as individuals stepped into its murky, white depths. This, at least, provided the explanation for how so many people could fit into such a confined space. They were being dispatched elsewhere.

Noah and his companions crowded into the chamber, which rapidly filled behind them. Only when the line ceased its movement did the bald man break his silence.

“In a moment, you shall traverse this portal. It will transport you to your designated quarters for the duration of the tournament,” he announced, gesturing towards the shimmering energy wall behind him. “Ensure you maintain contact with all members of your group. Should you lose contact, you will be assigned to separate rooms. This cannot be rectified. Your badge will be permanently tethered to the location of your arrival.”

The man paused briefly, ensuring his words had registered with everyone, before continuing his address.

“If any members of your group are not yet present, please return outside and refrain from using the portal. They will be unable to join you later. I reiterate—there is absolutely nothing we can do if you enter the room improperly or without all your members. Not even the Prophet herself has access to records of who is in which room, and by the regulations of the Tournament of Heaven’s Path, even the highest authorities are barred from identifying individuals within any room. They remain entirely concealed. Even from us. No refunds or reparations will be granted to anyone who fails to comply with these instructions.”

One of the armored women flanking the man abruptly clapped her hands together.

“For those whose entire party is present, please make your way through the portal. Your provisions are already waiting within your chambers. Should any further needs arise, utilize the call rope. While we cannot guarantee every request will be met, the Prophet shall strive to ensure your experience is optimal. Kindly reserve any inquiries until the tournament’s official launch. Until that time, make yourselves at home in your rooms. Do not attempt to depart from them. In the event of an emergency, pull the rope. Furthermore, each room is outfitted with a practice area for your warm-up routines in preparation for the tournament. Now… proceed.”

The multitude surged forward like a tidal wave. A select few groups adhered to the bald man’s counsel and separated, but the majority plunged into the swirling magic without the slightest hesitation. As Noah approached the arcane pathway, he grasped onto Brayden and Lee’s arms. Lee, in turn, secured Fist with her free hand.

With that, the four of them stepped into the portal.

A surge of viscous, grayish energy engulfed Noah’s sight, and then he was descending.

His stomach churned intensely. A thousand distinct tugging sensations assailed him from every conceivable direction simultaneously. Then, his foot met solid ground once more, and he stumbled forward into a surprisingly capacious stone chamber.

Five doorways were visible: two on opposite walls, one behind them, and a vast window occupying the entirety of the far wall. It offered an unobstructed view of an immense stone arena below, and ample space to gaze upwards at what must have been hundreds of thousands of seats ascending in a circular structure, not unlike a colosseum.

A long table stretched before the window, furnished with four plush chairs. The surface was laden with a generous spread of every imaginable food and drink, and its aroma was beyond enticing. This was clearly not merely the basic sustenance to sustain life; it was genuinely high quality.

Dangling from the right side of the table was a long, substantial rope cascading from an opening in the ceiling. Faint enchantments appeared to be woven into its fabric, evident from the gentle luminescence of the magical energy enveloping it.

“Huh,” Noah uttered. “That’s….”

“Nice,” Brayden concluded. “Much more room than I anticipated. They’re housing everyone in rooms like these? Gods. Just how large is Aqua Terra?”

“Enormous,” Fist asserted. “Truly, remarkably massive.”

Lee, without delay, hurried to the table to examine the provisions. Meanwhile, Noah approached the nearest door and pulled it open. Beyond lay a small but inviting bedroom, complete with a desk, a bed, and even a quill, ink, and some parchment. Adjacent to the paper sat a small vial containing what appeared to be some form of liquor.

“It almost feels like they’re fattening up a herd of pigs to ensure they fight as fiercely as possible,” Brayden remarked as Noah rejoined them in the main chamber. “I don’t like the feel of it.”

“You’re not exactly brimming with optimism, are you?” Fist inquired. She briefly peered into another room before glancing back at them. “Comfortable. Better than my usual sleeping quarters. It certainly looks like a fine place to relax and watch people attempt to tear each other limb from limb. I’m quite glad I’m not actually competing. But best of luck to you three. I’m sure you’ll perform admirably. There are only a few million individuals here aiming to carve out a reputation for themselves, many of whom are the absolute elite from their respective territories. I’m certain you’ll do wonderfully.”

“Was that intended as encouragement?” Brayden questioned.

“What?” Fist directed a genuinely puzzled look at Brayden. “Why would I attempt to do such a thing?”

“It’ll be alright,” Lee declared, snatching a whole roasted bird and shoving it into her mouth. Bones cracked as she bit down, and then she grinned through the copious amounts of juice flowing down her chin. “As long as they continue to supply us with food, there’s no way we can fail. Do you have any idea of the cost of food? It’s absolutely outrageous. It ought to be provided freely.”

“For everyone except you, apparently,” Brayden quipped.

Lee shot him a glare. She then glanced at the rope by the table. “The gentleman mentioned we could pull that if we required anything. Do you suppose…”

“No pulling the rope for more food,” Noah interjected firmly. “Not while we still have some available. And please, leave a portion for the rest of us, alright?”

“Mm,” Lee hummed noncommittally, grabbing an entire loaf of bread. Her tone offered little reassurance to Noah. Something within him suggested she was about to rigorously test the limits of the Prophet’s provisions.

“Do you imagine the food is complimentary? Is there a restriction on quantity? Will pulling the rope yield additional servings?”

“I don’t believe we should immediately test their generosity,” Noah advised. “We’ll have ample opportunity for experimentation later.”

Lee simply nodded, shoveling more food into her mouth with little regard.

Noah returned to the window, his eyes scanning the still vacant spectator stands and arena. Despite the view of thousands of other rooms, the glass prevented him from seeing into any of them. Aqua Terra was upholding their promise of seclusion with utmost seriousness.

A sensation stirred deep within his chest. The mix of excitement and apprehension caused his fingers to twitch at his sides. Somewhere out there, in one of the countless other rooms, his students awaited the tournament's commencement.

Brayden approached Noah, placing a heavy hand on his shoulder. “What’s on your mind?”

Noah's gaze shifted from the arena far below to Brayden.

“Not much. Just contemplating what a tournament might be like in Obsidia,” Noah stated. “Facing off against some of Obsidia’s top Rank 6 mages when I'm still Rank 5…”

“Hey, you're not the only one in that boat,” Brayden chuckled. “Don’t fret. I'm certain they’ll pit us against other Rank 5s initially. Anything else would detract from the competition’s spirit. Tournaments are intended to be enjoyable.”

“Oh, I had figured as much,” Noah replied. “It’s the Rank 6 opponents I'm genuinely worried about. My prospects against an opponent wielding 7 Flawless Rank 6 Runes… I doubt they are very high under current circumstances.”

“That’s a valid point,” Brayden conceded. “I believe I’ll be withdrawing once I’ve tested my own limits. I have no intention of winning this event myself. But I have faith you'll find a way. One way or another, I know you will.”

Noah gave a silent nod in agreement.

A moment of silence passed between them. Then, Brayden cleared his throat.

“So… how do you plan on tackling it?”

“Mm,” Noah responded. He remained silent for another beat. Then, he pursed his lips. “Warcrimes, most likely.”