Chapter 66: TRIBUNAL
<hr>
The rest of the match lasted roughly a dozen more hands.
I drew [Force Field] again to freeze another pot. The next hand, I played a [6/1] with [Death Strike], making it an [11/1], which beat all the other cards. But even though my card had a defend/reward score of 1, I won the frozen pot from the previous two hands, thanks to the first [Force Field].
It was as if I was outside myself, watching it all unfold, mashing the controls of a video game. Being a novice in previous PVE battles meant staying laser-focused on every move. But here in tournament PVP, I just needed to select the correct cards and tap them on my screen. My instincts kicked in automatically after that.
Yet, despite going into autopilot, the pain remained excruciating. With a large stack of Zii, I could afford to lose hands until I drew the right cards. But the experience remained visceral and mentally taxing. And once again, I had Sora to thank for being able to handle it.
Like my battle with Kyra, the [Evolve] power card was my win condition. I focused on the Monk because he had the lowest Zii, hurling the card at him as a fireball. He incinerated into a cloud of ash and Zii before disappearing from the arena.
I stared in horror as the Jingozi controlling the Monk dropped from its hovering position. Its black robes twisted and contorted as it hit the arena floor with a wet thud. The creature let out an inhuman screech that made my bones vibrate.
Jingo and the others remained motionless above as a puddle of dark liquid spread beneath them. Black smoke rose from where its body had been, curling into the air like oil catching fire.
The puddle sank into the obsidian floor, leaving the mask. Next, the mask melted away, leaving wisps of acrid smoke.
"Is it dead?" I asked.
"No," the Shogun answered. "Only punished."
"Too bad."
EMBER [NINJA] HAS WON MATCH 1
Match 2 will commence.
Player(s):
<ol>
<li>
Lockramm [Monk]
</li>
<li>
Suzume Sato [Samurai]
</li>
<li>
Xenya [Amazon]
</li>
<li>
Archalis [Emperor]
</li>
<li>
Prr*vk [Jingozi]
</li>
</ol>
Jingozi whispers erupted once again.
"The Ninja''s powers are unnatural."
"This vessel makes a mockery of the tournament."
"Explain yourself."
"She is a vessel like all others."
"And now you make a mockery of us."
"Where did she attain such powers?"
"Is the Ninja in league with the Emperor faction?"
"The covenant with Edric remains."
"Kill the vessel."
"Yes, destroy the abomination."
"You cannot."
"Yes, the tournament cannot be stopped."
"The Ninja must continue."
"Proceed."
* * *
In Vegas, we called it a sun run—when you''re drawing perfect cards and spiking hand after hand, crushing the table no matter what they''re holding. Some days, the poker gods decided it was your turn to win.
That''s precisely what happened for the rest of the tournament. Because of my power cards, the other players didn''t stand a chance. Even when I drew mediocre cards and lost a few hands, I''d eventually find the right combo to take the lead.
The [10/10] Shogun champion card was particularly devastating. When I''d summon him onto the field, he''d materialize in a swirl of cherry blossoms and cut through opponents like paper. He remained stoic as he inflicted maximum physical and emotional damage. Combining him with [Strike] cards or buffs made him unstoppable, even against other champions. Part of me felt guilty for steamrolling the field.This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.
Like the Monk, they fell one by one. First was the Amazon, then the Emperor, followed by the Golem and the Samurai. Each defeat sent another Jingozi puppetmaster crashing into a writhing mass of smoke and shadows.
The remaining Jingozi overseers grew more agitated with each round, their whispered arguments becoming heated debates about whether to stop the tournament. But they let it continue by whatever ancient rule or binding agreement.
"The tournament must proceed," they''d hiss after each match.
"The covenant cannot be broken."
"Let the abomination continue."
Finally, only two of us remained—me and the Jingozi. The arena grew darker, the air thick with tension as the next match was about to begin.
The Jingozi turned to face me. But instead of drawing a hand, it spoke in a voice that made my skin crawl.
"Concede."
"What?" The word barely left my mouth before the Jingozi''s form began to change.
Its robes melted like black tar, pooling on the floor. The mask cracked down the middle with a sound like breaking glass. Its body twisted and folded in on itself, limbs snapping and reforming as it sank into the arena floor. But the screams—they were chillingly human and demonic at the same time.
I stumbled backward, bile rising in my throat. I''d already watched this happen five times, but this gruesome display won the prize for most disturbing. The Jingozi''s mask was the last thing to disappear, smoke rising from the eye sockets as it sank into the obsidian floor.
The tournament bracket floating in my vision updated with a simple message:
EMBER [NINJA] WINS THE TOURNAMENT
Breathing a sigh of relief, the arena dissolved around me. My stomach lurched as gravity shifted.
* * *
I regained my senses in an opulent room that was even more of an upgrade than what was offered to me initially. A tall, adult-sized, skeletal clay Golem with the standard mask and pristine black robes stood by—nose upturned despite not having an actual nose.
"Where''s Pipp?" I asked, scanning the room.
The butler''s ceramic joints creaked as he adjusted his position.
"That guide is no longer of service to the tournament."
"What''s that supposed to mean? What did you do to Pipp?"
He merely straightened his posture even more and stared through me as if I hadn''t spoken.
"Hey, I asked you a question!" My fists clenched, but the Golem refused to acknowledge me.
A drop of something dark fell onto the floor with a splat. Looking down, I realized I was covered in blood—not my own, thank god, but that didn''t make it any less nauseating. The gore of battle had soaked through my clothes and stuck to my skin like tar, making the fabric cling uncomfortably to my body. The metallic stench filled my nostrils, and I had to fight the urge to gag.
Then it struck me. This was all for real. On the surface, once you left a match, all injuries and remnants of the fight disappeared. But here, in the Crucible, it wasn''t a simulation at all.
Did I kill the other players for real?
I frantically stripped off the garments, leaving them on the floor to self-repair. The bathroom was enormous, with a rainfall shower big enough for five people. I cranked the water as hot as it would go and stepped under the stream.
As I stood under the water, the implications of the tournament crashed over me. The horrific way the Jingozi had melted and twisted. The sound of its mask cracking. The screams. The other players, vessels like me. Where were they now? Trapped or dead? All because of me.
My legs gave out, and I slid down the marble wall to sit on the shower floor. The water ran red around me as it washed away the blood. Was I in shock, about to burst into tears, or was this just adrenaline withdrawal?
My vision blurred.
The last thing I saw before everything went dark was steam rising around me like the smoke from melting Jingozi.
* * *
I woke with a start, gasping for air.
Instead of lying naked on the shower floor, I was tucked into the massive bed wearing my renewed Ninja armor. Despite my panic, the padded fabric felt surprisingly fresh and clean against my skin, every tear and bloodstain erased as if they''d never existed.
A chill ran down my spine. Had that creepy Golem picked me up and—no. I shoved that disturbing thought away.
I stared at the ornate ceiling, replaying the tournament in my mind. For once, the Jingozi suffered, experiencing the pain they so casually inflicted on others. That satisfied me. Yet, part of me still felt like I''d cheated somehow like the whole thing had been rigged in my favor.
I needed answers to what happened to the other vessels.
Swinging my legs over the bed''s edge, I rolled my shoulders. The tournament victory left me with more questions than answers. Not to mention—where the hell was Pipp?
The room lurched sideways, and suddenly, I wasn''t in the bed anymore. Cold air whipped around me as I materialized in an enormous open space, the black floor stretching endlessly in every direction. Above me, twelve Jingozi floated in a V-formation.
Jingo hovered beside me, staring ahead without acknowledging my presence.
Close up, every Jingozi mask differed—a wolf, a stag, what looked like a praying mantis, and other beastly faces I didn''t recognize. They hung motionless in the air, staring at me with eerie, glowing eyes.
"What is this?" I asked Jingo.
SILENCE, VESSEL. WE HAVE BEEN SUMMONED TO AN ELDER TRIBUNAL. SAY NOTHING, OR WE BOTH RISK OBLIVION.
I was about to reply with something snarky when the first whisper cut through the silence like ice.
"Heresy."
I couldn''t tell which Jingozi had spoken.
"The vessel must not live," another voice from a different direction.
"She threatens the covenant." The whispers overlapped, building into a discordant chorus that made my teeth ache.
Jingo''s cloak rippled as he raised his metal skeletal hands.
"I honored every law of the tournament," he pronounced. "The vessel won fairly, and I deserve my reward."
"You let her retain her mind," the wolf-masked one hissed. "To let her access powers beyond her station."
"That was within my right," Jingo responded. "But the vessel''s powers are hers alone, beyond mine. How could I have granted her such access?"
"Just like Edric," the mantis mask''s lights flickered rapidly. "We all remember..."
"The vessel must die," another added. “And you with her, traitor."
The bickering droned on.
"Shogun?" I called in my mind.
"I am here, Ember-san."
"Please tell me what''s going on."
"Only one explanation remains," he said. "Edric must be one of you, possibly from your dimension. It explains his immense power. Now I realized he possessed spells similar to yours. It is how he defeated me."
Something the Jingozi said snapped me back to the tribunal.
"This vessel is an orphan in her dimension," one declared. "Send her back. She will be no threat."
I felt a fire course through my body, making my fingers shake as I tightened my jaw. A fury lit up inside me, driving me toward an idea I hadn''t imagined possible.
Prophet.
Trust Alphathir and trust yourself.
The Jingozi mask appeared from my inventory on my face. The tribunal fell dead silent as I whispered the first word that came to mind.
"Alphathir."