Chapter Three – Beyond the Screens
The Hunter's body vanished as if it had been blown away by the wind, leaving behind a swirl of black dust that quickly dissolved into the air, as though it had never existed.
The crowd fell silent all at once, their cheers that had shaken the arena moments ago disappearing into nothingness. The crimson lights covering the arena floor gradually dimmed, one by one, until darkness enveloped everything.
Suddenly, a beam of light shot down from above, enveloping Ye Qin completely, pulling him upward with a force he could not resist.
He felt as if his body was being torn from the inside, yet in the next moment, he found himself standing on a glossy surface that reflected every step he took, as if it were a giant mirror.
He lifted his head and saw that the ceiling of the hall vanished into darkness, giving the impression that the place had no end.
The walls were lined with enormous screens, each streaming a different scene:
battles in deserts of fire, flying ships clashing above seas of clouds, colossal creatures besieging cities illuminated by thousands of lights, and duels between warriors slicing through the very sky with their swords.
The sounds overlapped from every screen—shouts of anger, cries of victory, and sometimes eerie whispers.
But what captured Ye Qin's attention most was the strange feeling emanating from the place, a sense that he was being watched by hundreds of hidden eyes—eyes that did not appear on any screen, yet focused solely on him.
In the center of the hall stood a massive black throne, carved from a mysterious material that absorbed light instead of reflecting it.
Six empty seats flanked the throne, each designed differently, as if crafted for rulers from different worlds.
Seated on the throne was a figure shrouded in shadows, with nothing visible except two cold blue eyes that gleamed like ice.
He did not move, yet his voice echoed throughout the hall as if the walls themselves were speaking:
> "Welcome… Ye Qin."
His words carried immense weight, not merely a sound but a command imposed upon the listener's heart.
> "You have survived the first challenge, which now places you among the Seven Candidates."
Ye Qin narrowed his eyes, his voice laced with suspicion:
> "Candidates… for what?"
The man laughed slowly, heavily, like ancient ice cracking deep within a cavern:
> "For the Supreme Throne… the Throne of the Overseer of Worlds. Whoever sits upon it… controls everything you see on these screens and decides the fate of entire realms."
Ye Qin turned slowly, staring at the screens until his gaze froze on one.
It was a live broadcast from his old world, where his disciples stood atop the walls of the Heavenly Palace, their faces pale as they gazed skyward, while his ministers argued in the Hall of Governance, unaware of what was happening.
He clenched his fist, nearly summoning his sword from rage.
> "If I fail… what will happen to my world?"
The man did not answer immediately. He raised his hand and pointed at the screen.
In an instant, the image of the world began to distort, half of it dissolving into a black void.
> "If you fail here, you will not only lose your life… your world will vanish forever, as if it had never existed."
Then he tossed a small object to Ye Qin—a red crystal pulsing faintly like a heartbeat.
> "This is your key for the next challenge. Guard it well… for the path ahead is riddled with traitors, even those you believe to be your allies."
Ye Qin stepped forward, but suddenly felt an immense pressure in the air, realizing that approaching the throne any closer was not an option.
Before he could speak another word, a door of light opened on one side of the hall, radiating a strange warmth amidst the deadly cold.
An alarm blared, louder than anything else:
> "The Second Challenge will begin in one hour."
Ye Qin glanced toward the door, then at the mysterious figure on the throne, before stepping forward with resolve, determined to uncover what lay beyond… no matter the cost.