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He struggled to endure the pain. But Oli had no other choice. No other option. Oli was already trapped within the cosmic energy, and Oli had already put on the irremovable headband. The only thing Oli could do was wait out the pain.

Occasionally, Oli would watch one of Dioro’s memories to try and focus on something apart from sheer pain. But it didn’t help much.

Most of the time, Oli was too distracted by pain to focus on his father and the demonstrated techniques or battle arts. All Oli could do was wince in anguish, laying down, hovering inside an endless void.

And while being in the soul jade slowed the pain to make it more bearable, dragging out the pain wasn’t exactly a blessing. Instead of facing one million needles all at once, Oli would feel them pierce his skin one by one with no break or pause. It was torture. Plain and simple.

“What... can I... do...” Oli stammered, barely able to move his jaw under the pressure. “I can’t... train... my essence... but... can’t... waste... time! ...”

Oli continued to groan while trapped there. He tried anything and everything to either ease the pain or distract his mind. There was no giving up. Letting the pain overtake him was the only option Oli refused time and time again. But the longer the pain went on, which was six times longer than the rest of the world felt thanks to the soul jade, the more Oli struggled to think past the never-ending torture.

.....

Outside of the soul jade, time passed normally. And, before the third sun could rise, prominent figures were exiting the monstrously-large, newly-built hotel of Iron Town, standing between the town’s center and the gorilla clan to the south.

One by one, proud prefecture lords exited the hotel with an entourage of kings and elders behind them.

As if coordinated, the prefecture lords took turns arriving at the newly renovated colosseum. The structure had doubled in size, and special viewing platforms were now available.

One seating area had seven seats, with the center seat more reminiscent of a golden throne. The prefecture lords each took one of the six seats beside the throne, the three originally involved prefecture on one side and the additional prefectures on the other. Below that section was a massive seating area suitable for the kings and contestants, offering sixty spacious seats for the prefecture lords’ direct followers.

The rest of the colosseum was packed to the brim by the citizens of Iron Town and the surrounding territories, including those from Toxic-shadow across the border. Those people had been waiting at least an entire day to save their seats. And the best seats had been occupied for nearly a sun. But it was entirely worth it, more than worth it even! To witness such a spectacle, even kings of nearby regions came to watch, regardless of not being in charge of a combatant.

Once every seat was filled, they waited.

‘What are you doing here?!’ a voice telepathically shouted.

Chuckling, Isla looked across the empty thrown and at her younger brother. “If you have anything to say to me, then say it out in the open. Or are you still the coward I’ve always had to protect?”

“Why are you here? We had a promise to not interfere with each other,” Isaac questioned without hesitation.

Laughing, Warrak slapped his armrests and leaned his elbow on the empty throne beside him. “We’re here to fight for the favor and boons of the quadrant. What’s so wrong with that?”

Treeda, the lord on the opposite side of the empty throne chuckled, “That’s right. I welcome the challenge. I look forward to seeing your candidates’ capabilities first-hand. To think we’d be facing three of the elite prefectures before the quadrant finals... What a great learning experience we’ve been gifted.”

“See!” Warak boastfully nodded. “You should think more like Treeda, Isaac. Or it will be hard to see you as anything more than a spoiled brat.”

“It’s also a great learning opportunity for you,” continued Treeda, smiling back to Warak and the joining prefecture lords. “You’ll be able to see that candidates from all prefectures can dominate the competition, and that elite prefectures simply have better opportunities and benefits by the grace of God Toseko.”

“Is that supposed to be a threat?” interjected Peimar, poking his head out.

It was Inka that replied, “You’re all just lucky that my perfect candidate is already a high-elder. Otherwise, you’d only be fighting for second place.”

“Really? I’d love to see my brat’s nephew. I’ve heard a lot about him, but haven’t been invited to see him personally...” Glaring into the lower viewing platform, Warak found Brak. “Brat! If you keep clenching your ass like that, you won’t be able to shit for a moon!”

Gradually turning his head and forcing a smile onto his face, Brak bowed back to Warak. “Father. It’s been quite a while...”

“Enough nonsense,” Warak replied, laughing loudly. “Get up here and give your old man a hug! To think I’d have to force one out of you after so many years... You’re embarrassing me!”

“He’s done more than just embarrass you...” Treeda remarked, staring daggers into Brak as the mid-king approached the prefecture lords. “You’re lucky to have been a former champion. Otherwise, I’d have slaughtered you ten times over.”

Still laughing, Warak threw his arms around Brak, “Hey, that’s enough about the past! For now, all we can do is live in the present and prepare for the future! So long as we keep our heads up and continue to increase our strength, our very value to our clans, then all is well. Isn’t that right, Son?”

Brak tried to swallow his nerves, feeling pressure from both Treeda and his father crashing down on him. “Of course, Father...”

“Good! Then I look forward to the value you will continue to bring our Razor-hide Clan!” Slapping Brak on the shoulders, Warak noticed something unexpected. “Hm? Are those fractures I sense? What happened to you?”

With a shaky jaw, Brak failed to reply.

But Treeda smiled and asked, “Is that so? What’s happened to you, Brak? Go ahead. Inform us of what happened, in detail.”