Nate took his seat in the arena for the first solo combat tournament matches. He enjoyed the fact that the section set aside for Lesser Divines didn’t have them packed together like sardines. He’d come alone to watch Kiri’s first solo match as everyone else was busy either preparing for their own matches, brewing some more potions, or in Frick’s case, trying to digest the Chaos Artifact.

The little goblin Spirit would likely be stuck doing so for the next few days as he slowly broke down the Divine Energy within the artifact and directed it to his Class Core. Nate had been wondering in what direction Frick would go with his development and, while it sounded like Frick intended to eventually develop a Divine Vessel like Nate and Kiri, for now the little goblin just wanted to make sure he was a Lesser Divine before the World Reaping kicked off.

The arena for the solo matches was huge, covering over a kilometre in width and length. It was further broken up into grids that resulted in twenty-five separate fields with mana barriers marking the edges of each zone. Because of the distances involved, viewing glasses that telescoped in on whatever you aimed them at were supplied with every seat in the stands.

Nate supposed that getting up close and personal when Lesser Divines were fighting was probably a little too dangerous, especially for the mortals. That was particularly true since the combat tournament had no restrictions around the use of Divine Energy. While he suspected most competitors would hold off on using such, saving it for the World Reaping itself, there would no doubt be outliers and desperate individuals. Nate just hoped the Dynasty had ways of containing anything truly dangerous.

Nate was settling in when he noticed an orc floating down towards him on a pane of mana-infused glass. The Orc in question wore the uniform that Nate had begun to associate with the Golden Tide, in gold and red, with different rank markings on his uniform from the Grand Marshal and Marshal Hondo.

“Master Weber, the Grand Marshal has offered to host you in his private box.”

Nate gave the offer a moment’s thought. He had been careful since his fairly obvious reveal the previous day in the crafting tournament. Displaying his capabilities to farm Divine Energy almost certainly marked him as a Second Evolution Divine to anyone who knew anything. While the Greater and True Divines may not be able to move against him, the Lesser Divines could. Nate had no doubt in his mind that there were plenty of opportunistic members of the various factions present for the World Reaping that were champing at the bit to get at him. While the offer might be a trap, he doubted the Grand Marshal would be so obvious. More importantly, with so many individuals now looking to target Nate, he felt it was probably a good idea to try and gain a few allies, or at the very least, not enemies.

Bringing up his Status, Nate performed one last check, making sure the protections of his Divine Vessel remained in place.

Almost three-hundred days remained on the potion that Ankh’Aris had given them that appeared to erode the senses of anyone trying to sense the Divine-state of their bodies. He trusted the ancient dragon to know the capabilities of a True Divine and Ankh had been confident that they wouldn’t be able to detect the developing Divine Vessel. That confidence was good enough for Nate.

“I accept,” he answered.

Nate used his own robe, marked with a Gravity Control Rune, to levitate alongside the Golden Tide soldier up to the private box. The box itself looked like a mirrored rectangular prism from the outside. A small portion of the wall slid inward, granting entrance to a comfortable and well appointed room that housed a small kitchen along with a Lesser Divine Chef. Grand Marshal Grommir lounged in a huge chair fit for his bulk as he looked out the window towards the fields below. While the surface of the room had been mirrored from the outside, it was transparent for those inside, and looked to have the same viewing enchantments that were provided to those below embedded in the walls.

“Take a seat,” grumbled Grommir. “We will settle any lingering debt between us at the end of our time together.”

The reminder of Reciprocity made Nate a little wary, but after performing one last scan of the room he moved toward the offered seat. He had noted two Lesser Divine soldiers, including the one that had gone to fetch him, as well as Marshal Hondo who appeared to be working in a corner on an enchanted slate.

“Thanks for the invitation,” offered Nate. “I didn’t think you would have a personal chef.”

“He comes with the private box and has a System Contract to keep anything said within the box private. As for the invitation, we have a business relationship, and relationships are built on communication,” explained Grommir as the sound of sizzling meat drifted towards them from the kitchenette. “I admit to some level of… surprise, though.”

“Oh?” queried Nate.

“I already knew you were a Seed. While I cannot get a full read on your… robe… I can tell it is at the very least a High-Grade Divine Artifact. Nobody hands such things out to their subordinates unless they value them very highly. After all, a single High-Grade Artifact on the lower end would contain enough Divine Energy to raise a Lesser Divine by five levels. On the higher end? Sixteen levels. That alone could almost get them to the next evolution. And that’s assuming it is High-Grade and not Peak-Grade.”

Grommir paused when he saw Nate frowning. By Nate’s calculations, Grommir’s math was all off. In The System’s progression, his notes and experience had a Class level taking three Divine Energy and a Skill level taking one Divine Energy. But based on the way the Heartlands graded artifacts, a High-Grade would have the equivalent of between thirty-one and one-hundred Divine Energy. The math was off.

Grommir started laughing softly before Nate could respond.

“Your Master is an odd one not to reveal such to you. This is my first time having this discussion with a Second Evolution Lesser Divine. Am I right in guessing the cost for levels is cheaper when one is below level one-hundred?”

Nate pursed his lips. He was, admittedly, a terrible liar, and since he was looking to make friends, he decided that honesty was the best policy.

“It only costs three Divine Energy for a Class level,” he admitted.

“And Skills?”

“One, if they’re below level one-hundred.”

“Interesting. We have of course heard rumours of such, but the Golden Tide has never tried to raise a Second Evolution Lesser Divine before. Most wouldn’t agree to it due to the inherent risks, and even if there were a few who would, we considered the expense of trying to protect them while they grew to True Divine to be too costly. It’s two, by the way, in case your Master didn’t tell you. Two per Skill Level over one-hundred, increasing by another one every fifty Skill Levels. Classes go up by three every fifty levels.”

Nate nodded his understanding. Six per level from one-hundred-and-one to one-hundred and fifty. Then nine per level to two-hundred. Then twelve per level. It was easy to see why most of the major factions only had a few True Divines, and also why factions like The Eternium had looked to other sources outside of the Reaper’s Accord to grow their base.

“Is that what you invited me up for? To confirm my Second Evolution?” asked Nate.

“No, I invited you up here because our only Seed that has entered the solo tournament is about to fight against your companion. The other Seed you came with. Kiri Beaufoy.”

Nate’s eyes widened at that. He hadn’t known who Kiri was going to be matched against.

“That seems a little coincidental?” ventured Nate.

“It’s a little surprising. There are hundreds of competitors in the solo tournament vying for around a hundred slots. Less than ten of those are Seeds. To have two face each other in their first match is somewhat unlucky. Not that it will matter. They’ll only be removed if they lose three matches so a loss here for either of them shouldn’t matter.”

“Around a hundred slots? The number is not fixed?”

“Changes based on the number of competitors in each of the three tournaments and the size of the teams. The Reaping itself has a set number of slots but the number of solo participants, versus team, versus crafters changes from one Reaping to the next. Only the number of slots sold at the Auction and for the Hosting Faction are set in stone. We want it to be competitive without saturating the Reaping to the point that there is no value to be had.”

“They’re about to start, sir,” called Marshal Hondo from the back of the room.

Nate sensed Grommir reach out with his mana and the glass view in front of them shifted onto one specific grid in the arena below. The section of the arena that had been set aside for Kiri’s match was a rocky biome with metallic spires shooting out of the ground like misshapen teeth. Kiri herself rose out of the ground and was deposited on a smooth brown rock with three spires at her back. On the opposite side, almost two-hundred metres away, a red and gold armoured individual rose to match Kiri. Nate could see a hint of Orc in the man’s features, but far less pronounced than Hondo.

“Captain Borin,” explained Grommir. “One of three Seeds we entered into the Reaping. The other two had more accolades against their names and so had their slots purchased.”

“Is that all you’re fielding?” asked Nate.

“No, non-Seed teams are permitted to enter the tournament as well. We have four other squads participating. How many do we expect to succeed?” asked Grommir, the question directed at Marshal Hondo.

“Besides Captain Borin, only one other team is expected to make it through the tournament, sir. Of Borin’s team, early calculations indicate that one of his three members will also fail to pass the tournament resulting in a team of three passing through to the Reaping.”

Grommir nodded, side-eyeing Nate, “Your own team appears to be going through a similar process. I found it a little odd when we saw that two of your members were going through the Crafting Tournament. A little less so when we factored in that you had two Seeds on the same team. An irregularity in and of itself. How do you think your companions will fair?”

“Jemima did well in the first leg of the Crafting Tournament,” answered Nate. “I am confident she will make it through. Same with Kiri. As for Wulfgar, it remains to be seen the level of competition he’ll be up against in the tournament.”

“And how do you think Kiri will fare against Captain Borin?” pressed Grommir.

Nate looked through the viewing glass as he activated Conceptual Sight, the ability lighting up his eyes as the flows of mana became visible all around him, like an ever-shifting sea, pulled by the currents of the Concepts embedded in Reality. Captain Borin’s aura was a slowly shifting network of mana that looked like thick red bricks.

“His Class is Earth-based?” asked Nate.

Grommir simply chuckled, the ogre's amusement rumbling the entire glass box and eliciting a squawk of worry from the chef in the kitchen.

“It is. Impressive perception, though I should not be surprised given your showing yesterday. Does that help you answer my question?”

Nate nodded, “It will be close but Kiri will win.”

“Even with a sixty level disparity?”

“Even so,” lied Nate.

He was lying because the level disparity was, at face value, more like ninety. But that was just at face value. Kiri hadn’t been lax in developing her own Divine Vessel, and, more importantly, had kept enough Divine Energy in reserve to create her own processed mana. If a System assisted Class Level in Divine gave twenty-one Stats, then the difference between Kiri and Captain Borin should have been roughly fifteen hundred, after factoring in the decreasing Class Rarities.

However, Kiri had achieved the same amount of progress as Nate with her own Divine Vessel, then set aside over eighty Divine Energy temporarily to create processed mana with. The result was that Kiri was actually ahead on Stats. Coupled with her Regalia and the added bonuses from the Divine Vessel, Nate suspected that unless Captain Borin started throwing around all his stored Divine Energy, Kiri had this fight in the bag.

“It’s starting,” announced Hondo.

No sooner had the words left his mouth than there was a spear of earth crossing the distance between Borin and Kiri with such speed that if Nate had blinked, he would’ve missed it. Kiri had stepped to the side without missing a beat as she began a march forward. More spears rained down on her position and were dodged, leaving the earthen weapons lodged in the ground. Borin, apparently done wasting mana on ranged attacks, started riding a wave of earth towards Kiri, a dark red, metal spear held in his hand and a matching round shield on his other arm.

Nate watched as Kiri’s Regalia shifted, small, punching blades extending from her hands. Then his sister was clashing directly with Borin. Nate’s Perception and Intellect let him keep track of the pair as they moved at speeds that would’ve been nothing but blurs for mortal eyes. Borin landed a blow with his shield, blasting Kiri backwards. As she flew, his earthen spears that had been left embedded in the ground shifted to try and pierce her from behind.

Nate knew Kiri could use Soul Shift to avoid the attack but was unsurprised when she went crashing through the spears instead, cuts forming across her head and neck as the stones exploded sending shards of shrapnel all around her. A moment later, his sister was walking out of the cloud of dust, her wounds vanishing and her armour unmarked by the attack. The viewing window zoomed in on Borin, showing the Half-Orcs frustration. But it was Grommir’s reaction that caught Nate’s attention.

“So, she is a Second Evolution as well. Your Master is either a genius or a lunatic. Putting you two together is like setting off a nightflash in the middle of a nest of centinaur. They’ll all come for you. But then, putting you together, maybe you’ll manage to keep each other alive and free.”

“How could you tell?” asked Nate.

“I felt her generate Divine Energy from that little exchange when she got wounded. Not that those wounds remained for more than a second. Let us see if Marshal Hondo’s protege recognises the danger he is in.”

A moment later, to Nate’s surprise and based on Kiri’s facial expression, his sister's annoyance, Captain Borin surrendered the match.

“That was… unexpected,” voiced Nate.

“Not really,” replied Grommir with a knowing smirk.