After being shaken into a brief daze, they gradually regained their composure.
That’s what they said, anyway.
But this sort of thing was indeed still far too dangerous.
Basically, everyone’s thought was not to get involved in something like this—except for them.
And it looked like they were very different from everyone else, too.
Yu Ye held onto the comms device linked to the Sanctuary, still a bit skeptical—where did these people come from? Who exactly were they?
This is way too dangerous—if you wanted to figure out the survival tournament, you could watch the live broadcast. There was no need to risk your own life.
Yu Ye wanted to say something more, but he was interrupted by a stern voice coming from the communicator.
“Yu Ye, are these the people you said wanted to replace a few of us from the Holy Sanctuary and enter the survival tournament’s preliminary?”
On the other end of the comms was Lai Qing, the current Speaker of the Holy Sanctuary.
His youngest son, Lai Te, was right now somewhere on the survival tournament’s preliminary battlefield, his fate unknown.
“Yes.”
At this moment, Lai Qing’s face didn’t show the anguish of a parent who had lost a child; he just wore a clouded expression, somber and heavy, but still forcing himself to stay composed.
Lai Qing was observing the three on the other side.
Everyone—including Yu Ye and Xi Yi—had just quickly explained the whole situation, each adding something.
A person strong enough to deal with vine beasts without relying on a mech—could such a person truly exist?
Lai Qing still found it hard to believe.
Especially right now, as the entire Holy Sanctuary was shrouded in an unusually silent, despairing atmosphere.
They existed within a harsh system, wanting to resist, to break free, but they simply didn’t have the ability yet.
On the other side, a baby-faced man was circling a young boy, trying to snatch the notebook from his hands.
He tried grabbing, tried hiding, but always failed.
In the end, the man ruffled the little boy’s curly hair in frustration, looking a bit exasperated.
And the boy grumbled discontentedly in a clear voice: “Uncle, don’t mess up my hair, I’m still growing!”
Zao Zao still needed to grow.
This overly relaxed state made Lai Qing, for a moment, uncertain whether these people truly understood the brutality of the survival tournament.
Lai Qing let out a long breath, his expression growing even more serious.
He recalled this time’s warnings from the Eastern Alliance—a region with relatively close ties to the Holy Sanctuary, albeit a weak, multi-ethnic small alliance. But thanks to outstanding leadership, they’d barely managed to survive this long.
The saddest thing was that such a small region turned out to be, besides the Holy Sanctuary, the most willing to resist.
Elsewhere, there were mostly scattered small forces—one misstep and they’d be swallowed up by a tide of aberrant beasts.
So ultimately, the Eastern Alliance’s stance was: admit defeat, don’t be so rigid, delay as much as possible, at least preserve some of your strength, so that you won’t be driven directly into the hunting zone. Once you end up there, it’s almost impossible to return—it’s all but certain death, with no space left for development.
Lai Qing had pondered this problem carefully. In the clan, some with weaker psionics and poor mech skills hoped to replace those like Yu Ye—who had outstanding talent as a mecha pilot—to avoid everyone perishing in the preliminary. At least after a week, when the real survival tournament started, there could be some latitude.
He hadn’t expected Yu Ye to encounter such strange strangers interested in witnessing the survival tournament firsthand.
“Yu Ye, the preliminary’s shuttle is heading to your coordinates—it’ll arrive in about ten minutes. Once you land at the preliminary field, you’ll have less than half a day left—”
“Yes, Speaker, understood. And please send us again the last coordinates where Lai Te and the others disappeared.”
Mentioning his youngest son, Lai Qing suddenly seemed a lot older; he fell silent, as if wanting to say something more.
But Yu Ye looked at him earnestly, youthful brows filled with anger and impulsiveness: “The Holy Sanctuary never abandons anyone—this is an ancestral rule. Even if it’s just a corpse, we bring our people back.”
Lai Qing finally lifted his head: “Alright, the coordinates will be sent to your mechs. Also, let those three speak with me.”
As Yu Ye awkwardly handed over the communicator, Chu Zao had already tucked away his little notebook.
Little Chu Zao even patted his uncle’s back, all innocence, and reassured Feeney: “It’s okay, it’s okay, Uncle, it’ll be over soon.”
Just let dad look over those notes—it’ll be quick!
Feeney: …It won’t be over quickly, it’ll be over in the blink of an eye.
Little brat.
Getting naughtier.
Chu Zao looked up and met Lai Qing’s gaze through the communicator.
Honey-colored clear eyes blinked twice.
Lai Qing froze for a second, then quickly recovered: “You want to enter the preliminary without mech assistance? That’s very dangerous. As the Speaker, I have a responsibility to all our children. I have to tell you—if something happens because of your recklessness, don’t expect our help. They’re just kids, not yet seasoned by the cruelty of such tournaments. If you still choose to go, responsibility for any consequences lies with you alone.”
“Speaker!”
Caught off guard by Lai Qing’s words, Yu Ye immediately spoke up, unhappy and wanting to protest.
“Yu Ye, quiet.”
Lai Qing knew these words were cruel, but still silenced Yu Ye’s objection.
That stern face, after a few seconds locking eyes with little Chu Zao, softened slightly.
He’d just been stunned, maybe because he hadn’t expected the person Yu Ye spoke of to look so soft, even younger than Yu Ye and the others.
“So, in this dangerous situation, I advise you not to get involved out of curiosity or because of something Yu Ye and the others said. They’re all young and impulsive, but here, everything is brutally real.”
The Sanctuary no longer had the strength to protect others.
That last breath they held onto was about to dissipate.
“It’s okay, we understand.”
Chu Zao spoke gently, his tone soft as if soothing a soul already wrung ragged by fate.
That calm and stability was something the Holy Sanctuary had never possessed during its time here.
“No need to worry. We act in our own interests, too, and won’t drag you down.”
“No, it’s not that you’d drag us down—”
For some reason, Lai Qing, usually so taciturn, opened his mouth and tried to explain.
Feeney laughed on the side.
Don’t be fooled by Feeney—this guy had lived hundreds, maybe thousands of years.
He just wasn’t good at socializing and could be rather eccentric, always acting a bit flighty, but apart from Amos, he was absolutely a killing machine—the most fearsome in Holy Cas.
Those crimson eyes shone faintly.
“This actually aligns with your region’s interests. No need to worry about us.”
He was simply focused on his own cub’s safety.
To protect his own little one—once Amos arrived—on that score, Feeney had confidence.
But—
Mythic long-lived species being worried about by a bunch of short-lived types, about danger and trouble—how did this keep happening, even here?
“Stick to your convictions, don’t be too spineless, and just wait a little longer. The truly terrifying one on our side hasn’t even shown up yet—once he’s here, everything will be fine.”
With Amos around, everything would be fine.
Feeney didn’t believe his cub could go missing without Amos going frantic.
Indeed, just as Feeney thought, on the barrier’s edge, a gap was slowly being torn open. The corruptive force attacking was finally beaten into submission by Amos’s psionics, and now Ebinino cooperated to block it. Several warships were standing by.
Within the command room, the Crown Clan remained cold, as if standing at a storm’s eye with suffocating pressure.
The long, black military coat seemed to flutter under that oppressive air. The army group commanders dared not approach at all.
The Holy Cas Empire’s most fearsome tyrant was calmly staring at a yet-uncharted point on the map, somewhere far away, with a fickle signal, deep in unknown corrupted territory.
But the little star blinked, meaning his cub was still safe somewhere out there.
This calmed the always restless and unstable House Head just a bit.
Meanwhile, Chu Zao’s side saw Chao Huangmu observing their concern for the Crown Clan, and thinking of that Majesty, shrugged with a wry smile—indeed, if His Majesty were here, there’d be no problem at all.
Little Chu Zao watched them too, his beautiful eyes utterly devoid of fear, brimming with pure confidence.
His dad really was that amazing.
Lai Qing stared for a while, wanting to say more. Confidence was good, but overconfidence here came at terrible cost. But in the end, Lai Qing swallowed his words—
“Alright.”
Just as he said that—
Lai Qing, before the Sanctuary’s central comms, looked to the distant sky.
“The unmanned drop-shuttle from the survival tournament preliminary has arrived.”
*
Meanwhile, all participating regions and nations—including the Aberrant Beast Commanders—also received the news: the Holy Sanctuary’s third group was about to enter the preliminary.
The Gesen Empire’s mecha pilots stepped up their search at the site where previous Holy Sanctuary members went missing.
Trying to eliminate them as soon as possible before the tournament proper began.
And the Aberrant Beast Commanders continued to survey their prey with predatory satisfaction.
The Eastern Alliance, who had tried contacting the Sanctuary to urge them to delay, only sighed.
“In fact, if they’d just hung on a while longer, they could’ve survived—they didn’t have to rush in and get themselves killed.”
“The Sanctuary’s folk are just like this: something obsessive in their bones. In a crisis, they’re bound to be rejected by those more willing to kneel. They never bent their necks—plus there’s always that ‘homeland’ they talk about. I just don’t get it; what’s that to us? Isn’t being alive more important?”
“Yeah, this is why lots of people don’t like the Eastern Alliance, either. We’re all in the same place, yet they insist they have a homeland, as if they’re different—hoping to return to their roots. No surprise they become targets.”
“We’ve said all we can, there’s nothing more we can do. We just hope the Sanctuary doesn’t end up stuck in an impossible position.”
The Eastern Alliance, not far from the Holy Sanctuary, actually admired their stance, but as a people with weak psionics, all they could do was adapt and survive, making deals as needed.
So seeing the Aberrant Beasts and imperial coalitions brandish their knives at the depleted Sanctuary over recent years filled them with mixed feelings.
*
Survival tournament preliminary zone.
Countless live drones buzzed through the arena, recording everything, driving the crowds into frenzy.
“Found anything?”
The Gesen Empire’s chief mecha pilot, Ji Yuan, was piloting his mech, checking in with teammates on the comm channel.
“No, we’re still expanding the search radius. If they survived, they definitely took care of the live cams too, so there’s nothing yet.”
“Just now got word: the Sanctuary’s third batch is about to enter—this must be the final batch allowed in, right?”
“Probably. Soon we’ll be able to watch nearby teams’ live feeds.”
“Boss, keep searching?”
“Of course—His Majesty’s right. Wiping them out means less pressure for us. The Sanctuary keeps losing people, dropping in rank, but their psionic talent is strong—who knows if they breed some dark horse later.”
Ji Yuan joked as he spoke.
“That’s unlikely. Looks like the Sanctuary is about finished.”
“True, but this stuff can’t be aired live. Are all live cams cleared out?”
“Yes, triple-checked.”
“Good, let’s go—start searching from here again.”
“Yes!”
*
At the drop point of the unmanned shuttle—
Some people were waiting to watch the Sanctuary’s fall—the preliminary wasn’t so different from the real tournament.
Personnel were inserted, elimination targets met, ranking determined, then later where to live and how many people to hand over to the Aberrant Beasts.
At most three batches were permitted—this was the last one. The Sanctuary hadn’t finished their mission. For them, once the real tournament began, elimination was almost guaranteed.
All their strongest mecha pilots had vanished, and their ranking was so poor, their starting position for the real event would be awful.
A few squads with friction against the Sanctuary all rushed to watch.
The Sanctuary no longer had live drones, just a handful of interested viewers who worked their way to a nearby feed to follow their situation.
But as soon as the Sanctuary landed, they started moving fast, showing not the least discouragement, much to some people’s chagrin—and more than a bit of surprise.
The “just here to see the show” crowd stared, confused.
‘Eh? What’s going on? Isn’t it supposed to be six people, why only three mechs?’
‘Seriously? Has the Sanctuary declined so badly they can’t even field more mechs?’
‘Hahaha, looks like it. I just checked, one kid looks barely ten—are they seriously sending kids to die?’
‘Seems like even the Sanctuary finally had to adapt—if they sent their best mecha pilots here to die, the survival tournament would be a total write-off.’
‘You’re right, but honestly, there was never much suspense—the Gesen Empire’s chief pilot Ji Yuan hasn’t even retired yet; they’ve got it locked.’
‘Heh, we’ll see at the betting tables—nothing’s really certain.’
‘They’re too far away; I couldn’t make out that group sprinting off. That young guy looks good, but I’ve never seen him—never competed before?’
‘The Sanctuary has no one left. It’s impressive they fielded anyone. Notice even the live feeds barely open for the Sanctuary? There’s zero suspense, so no hype. Their arrogance is tired and old—year after year, they get crushed. No one cares but a handful of us.’
‘That’s true.’
Behind the jeering—
Chu Zao simply stood atop Yu Ye’s mech, glancing at the swarming live drones and those people wanting to rush in.
Chu Zao blinked.
“Live broadcast, huh? Well then—”
Chu Zao scanned around, looked down at Yu Ye.
“Are we heading to where your people went missing?”
“Yes. When the drop happens, people wait to see if they can scavenge. Targeting others is a key part of the game.”
Yu Ye’s voice came from the mech.
At the moment, he seemed to have lost the previous irritability.
Strangely, whether it was because these new arrivals were too strong, or if Chu Zao just had something unusual about him, simply being near him made everyone noticeably calmer. Their mood stabilized and mistakes vanished even during the tensest extraction phases.
Chu Zao nodded.
So that’s how it worked.
Their understanding of the survival tournament only scratched the surface.
Now stepping in, Chu Zao found—it wasn’t anything special.
Just like their own league games.
“Do you have any special way to contact one another?”
“No, not really.”
Yu Ye replied again.
“But before disappearing, they sent another set of coordinates to the Sanctuary, different from the publicized missing location. We’ll check there first—but it’s been a while.”
Yu Ye deftly piloted his mech, but he couldn’t help worrying—he just hoped his people were alive.
Meanwhile, where the Sanctuary’s previous group was hiding—
Leader Lai Te checked the time.
“Captain, what’s the situation?”
“Less than half a day left—and the third batch just dropped in.”
They’d been targeted endlessly and picked this hidden location in hopes of eking out a last gasp. So the third batch’s entry was within their expectations.
But it was still a bit early for their planned move.
The team breathed a collective sigh.
Wait a little longer.
For the Sanctuary’s survival—for one last shot at finding their homeland—
Just a little longer—
Suddenly, a rumbling noise echoed.
Something was battering the rocks sealing their hideout.
“What’s happening?!”
Lai Te shot to his feet, glanced around and whispered anxiously.
And then, even more terrifying, after the pounding there came aberrant beast roars from the tumbling rocks that chilled the blood.
Everyone froze.
“No, that’s impossible—we scouted this place; the aberrant beasts were nowhere nearby. We chose here after finding the first squad!”
How could aberrant beasts attack them out of nowhere?
This too was the reality of the preliminary.
At the same time, a crack was smashed into the mountainside, the communicator crackling with static.
Then it came through clearly.
“So this is where you were hiding.”
That voice—it was the Gesen Empire lot.
Gesen Empire mechs stood in the distance, having scattered a ton of beast-attracting stone powder nearby. Lizards with keen noses went wild, ramming through the debris.
And then the scent of blood drove them madder.
“The intercepted coordinates are the only reason we found you—otherwise, no one would know where you were hiding.”
“But it doesn’t matter. Everyone already assumes you’re dead. If you die now, you’re still in time—and next up, your third batch.”
Gesen’s Ji Yuan forced his way into Lai Te’s comm, laughing and mocking them.
“Say, aren’t you always bragging about being so-called ‘Holy’ something? Why still call yourselves the Holy Sanctuary? It’s just odd—but never mind, not interested in weaklings’ pasts.”
With that—
Ji Yuan glanced at his companions.
“These beasts are enough to take care of them. Let’s go.”
Instantly, the Sanctuary’s squad was on the back foot.
“Captain! What do we do?”
“Captain—”
They would die—surrounded by this many aberrant beasts in a stone cave, it really meant death—unless a miracle occurred.
But—
Lai Te gritted his teeth.
“Prepare to fight—to defend our Sanctuary, to fight for Holy Cas, for the unseen Crown—for our true home—”
That name existed only in Sanctuary people’s hearts.
Why not call themselves Holy Cas, but instead, Sanctuary?
Lai Te recalled hearing elders share the story: they came from Holy Cas—a radiant empire—their homeland, the place longed for over generations, the sacred crown shining above their heads, a realm to die for, a past never forgotten, passed down to their generation—
But they were so weak—how could they dare tarnish Holy Cas’s name?
On the way, the third Sanctuary squad was searching; they’d checked one coordinate and were now fanning out, discouraged.
Feeney suddenly looked up.
Chao Huangmu, seated beside Chu Zao, instinctively reached back for something.
Chu Zao, who had been rummaging through Chao Huangmu’s supplies for food, suddenly lifted his head, his little curls trembling.
The strong, long-lived psionics let Feeney sneer, “Seems like a lot of aberrant beasts are gathering.”
Too far away to pick up, the Sanctuary trio was dumbly scanning their mechs’ data.
“What?”