CHAPTER 67: [ THREE TABLES ]

Alexander was near the floating orb, ready to lay his hand on it while others watched him approach.

"What’s your name?" asked the organizer.

"Veil."

The man typed on his tablet while glancing up a few times.

"Level?"

He was about to reply 33, remembering the last level up notification he received.

"34."

The organizer stopped typing, fully disconnected from his tablet while the small crowd filled with chatter.

Silver took a few steps closer with a truly confused look.

"How? We’ve both started at the same time, and I’m only level 9."

9? That’s so low, there’s no way...

"How many dungeons have you run?" Alexander asked.

"About 4 or 5. Havoc is a really active guild, I’ve joined a starter-party and have been on many runs now, I might even join their main roster soon. Did you get power-leveled?"

"Power-leveled? I don’t have that kind of money."

Silver’s eyebrows shot up in disbelief as he processed Alexander’s staggering growth.

Another dungeon runner in the crowd took a step closer.

"What guild are you a part of?" he asked.

He turned to face the crowd.

"Solo. As the name of the guild states, I’m its only member."

The chatter grew in intensity, more people joining in as the anticipation for the level 34 cultist’s power assessment was about to begin.

The organizer in charge of the first step brought his fist before his mouth, clearing his throat loudly in an attempt to calm the crowd and bring back Alexander’s attention.

Turning toward the crystal once more, he glanced at the organizer who gestured toward the orb.

Without waiting any further, Alexander put his hand on the floating orb.

He could feel a light buzz, the vibrations felt like they reverberated through his bones and entire self.

It wasn’t the same feeling as the crystal that gaged mana.

The orb then finally changed, a disappointing speck of light appeared at its center. It barely shone through the orb, the organizer even approaching a step closer to inspect correctly.

With an overwhelmingly disappointing look, he sighed and pressed the gray square on his tablet, the very first one.

"Subject... is... below the average expected power... for his bracket..." he read out loud while typing.

There was a short moment of awkward silence, where the crowd looked at each other unsure of what had just happened.

Whispers and accusatory tones filled the area, something he wasn’t new to.

"Don’t worry," started Silver who poked Alexander’s shoulder.

He didn’t finish his sentence, just stared blankly at Alexander’s face. He couldn’t find any negative emotions. Alexander was inexpressive, not showing any disappointment or concern.

"Wait, don’t you have a companion? That girl?" suddenly asked Silver.

"She’s busy," replied Alexander.

Overhearing their conversation, the crowd slightly calmed down.

"Still, companion or not, that’s a pathetic result..."

Silver was the one who turned around, administering a death stare to the dungeon runner who spoke up.

"We’re done here?" asked Alexander toward the organizer.

"Huh... yeah."

He nodded, "Good."

The bright yellow lines showed him the path he needed to take to reach the next step. He could see it further, a tent with the number two posted right next to it.

Without entertaining the crowd any further, he started walking toward it, followed by Silver.

"You need to be careful," said Silver. "Some people die in these tournaments."

He didn’t flinch at those words, he had faced death already, something he wasn’t sure Silver ever experienced.

He glanced at him.

"You’re the one who should be careful. I’m a cultist, am I not?"

Silver chuckled, taking Alexander completely by surprise.

"Sure, so humble of you mister Cultist."

Alexander shook his head while entering the next tent.

There were three white plastic tables before him with one organizers behind each of them.

It was a bit cramped, behind the organizers were several small wooden boxes carefully placed on trolleys lined in front of one of the exits.

The boxes were made of pale wood, but despite how rustic they looked they had an intricate lock mechanism that seemed to involve a dungeon core.

He took a few steps forward, waiting on the large X marked on the ground.

The organizer before him raised his palm, while looking at his tablet.

"Veil. Level 34."

He looked up, unfazed by Alexander’s appearances.

"Listen closely. On the first table, I want you to put down all your WEAPONS. Anything that can cause damage. That includes projectiles. SWORDS, STICKS, HAMMERS. As an example

, umbrellas, fans and even canes are considered weapons."

His only weapon was his staff, which he kept in the bottomless bag Fae had.

"I have nothing," he said.

"Is there any weapons attached to your body we need to know of? Weapons that you cannot take out for any reasons whatsoever? Failure to disclose weapons could result in an instant failure during the tournament."

Alexander shook his head.

"On this second table I need you to put down all your gear. This includes, but isn’t limited to anything that has magical properties. Plate armor, leather armor, robes, shin guards, steel-cap boots, gloves. Anything at all that could be considered protective or enhancing gear."

Alexander carefully took off the Will Breaker’s set, losing its bonus instantly.

He deactivated [ Witness of All Paths ], the crosses spreading through his eyes returning to their natural round shapes.

Better save my strength.

The organizer looked him up and down, finding nothing else that could’ve been missed.

"Trinkets, jewelry and other items go on the third table."

Alexander looked at the ring Sunder had just given him, its stone still pure white.

"Is there no other choices?" asked Alexander.

The man didn’t answer. His stone-cold face stared at Alexander waiting for him to place it on the table.

"Alright."

Alexander had finally got rid of everything, the organizers making inventory of everything on the tables before bringing forward a box similar to those in the back.

The man in the middle opened it, and similarly to a bottomless bag, everything that was previously on the tables was placed inside.

Even without [ Witness of All Paths ] he could see as space warped around the opened box, items bending to fit inside of it.

"When can I get my stuff back?" asked Alexander.

"Phase two. Or, most likely, the moment you lose," replied the man, turning around to lay the box on a trolley after labeling it.