6:00 AM, One day before the Hunter's Tournament.

While endeavoring candidates trained intensively, a lot of things had to be fixed on this day: the day before the Hunter Tournament's scheduled date. The founders and investors of the tournament were quite busy, getting their hands tied with a lot of different tasks. Bad luck seemed to follow them around all day. Every time there was a success, failure seemed to dig itself up from the dead and unbiddenly step in like a runaway father after hearing that his bastard son was now a billionaire.

Currently, they had a huge problem on their hands: Deviants. Just as there were people enthusiastic about the tournaments, there were heretics involved as well. These people acknowledged that the colony was in great danger, and continued to be threatened by the fast-approaching tournament. These people saw the Wizard's plan and were promptly against it. These people knew. 

The Wizard of course had been meaning to take action against these relentless rebels, but he was quite too busy. Taking care of Deviants was but a task beyond his capability. He warranted that they would become a monumental issue after word and gossips and rumors about the tournament's true purpose got out. 

And so, the Wizard neglected their existence and countless protests, dripping sweat solely during the course of the tournament's intensive preparation. He was hell-bent on making the tournament perfect in every regard. Although he had not raised a hand during the preparation of this tournament, he was still hard at work. Perhaps he even worked harder than them all, including his close assistant Ava.

A servant deliberately held up a robe for the Wizard to put his arms through the sleeves, one after the other. It was a blue robe. One extremely clean and thick and expensive. Though, the Wizard perhaps could not even afford one more of these robes. He was going bankrupt after all. The tournament cost him a lot of money, materials, labor, and a lot of yield from agriculture, lost since no one dared even look at a shovel or hoe.

The Wizard had gotten up after a rather pulchritudinous, serene dream. Why, of course, it was a sound slumber; he spent not a minute in bed after a long day of turmoil before knocking out cold like an assailant's teeth from a defensive jab. He simply had no room for nightmares or dusks of restlessness—for him, they even seemed impossible.

Ava sauntered over to him with her hands clasped behind her back. 

The Wizard hadn't looked at her. He fixed the robe on his body. "The summarised reports, thank you."

"It's virtually difficult for me to even summarise," Ava said, "there's just too much news."

The Wizard looked at her from the corner of his tired eyes. "Headlines," he said, "enlighten me."

Ava nodded at him then, she cleared her throat. "Well, there is a lot of problems with the tournament's preparation for sure."

The Wizard's tongue clicked. "Fix them. We have a lot of guests coming here, Avanna, and I'm not talking about the audience or the candidates. I mean actual guests. People of high caliber too."

"We're working on it, sir," Ava bowed. "All we have to sort out is the insufficiency of food for the audience, lack of materials, and the filing and matching of the candidates' ranks, opponents, and whatnot."

She looked the Wizard in his eyes. "We also still have to prepare for a new governor after your retirement."

"Don't mind that right now," the Wizard shook his head, "give me some more important news."

"We have a major problem with some of our citizens," Ava said, "specifically the fact that this tournament is building its very own enemies."

"The deviants are still protesting?"

"I'm afraid so, sir. But worse. They're attacking."

The Wizard looked over his shoulder at Ava. 

She cleared her throat. "A few of our guards were murdered. Additionally, we've had some rebels who chose to do damage to the tournament grounds where the event will be held tomorrow."

"We'll sort that out later."

"They're attacking, sir. If we just allow them to, things might get up to one hundred times worst. We cannot just—"

"I said," the Wizard turned around, snapping at her, "we'll sort that out later." He then saw the look on her face and averted his eyes in guilt. "Sorry about that. Please, just continue with the summarised reports."

Ava's face tinged. "Uhh, there's..." she looked down at the floor, "other murderers."

"More murderers?"

"Yes. These people are said to be candidates for The Hunter's Tournament. They seemed to have made West Willow, apprentice, and mentor, Errick Miller's plan their own."

"I see..."

"They plan to eliminate as many candidates as possible beforehand particularly through plotted ambushes. How must we handle them?"

The Wizard looked away, furrowing his brows. "We don't."

Ava grimaced. "Sir?"

"We don't," the Wizard said, "we don't handle them. You see, our guests are coming here solely to be entertained. They've invested a lot in this tournament. You may even call them co-founders. We need many candidates if we wish to prolong the run-time of the tournament. But we can't have all things now, can we?"

Ava grimaced again. "With all due respect, sir, that makes no sense to me. Without candidates, we wouldn't have a tournament for your guests tomorrow."

"The killed candidates," the Wizard said, "aren't they all the weak ones? Well, that's my point. Most wouldn't dare attack or even ambush their bigger rivals and the ones they know they can't hold a candle to like the Hunters and System users for whom they hold fear. The novices would be the ones dying but our top fifty candidates are smart and all know better than to attack now. As long as the powerful ones show up tomorrow, that's all we honestly care about."

"But doesn't more candidates mean more entertainment for our special guests?"

The Wizard scoffed. "Our guests are powerful people, Ava. Politics. All of them possess abilities and if not, they have armies of powerful men only theirs to command. They needn't trifle or even bother spectating a massive lot of lowly commoners duel each other. Incompetence is boring. The tournament now has other purposes rather than its initial get-successors-stronger motive. The latter is still by far our most important of the rest, but second in line is 'entertainment'. Remember that."

Ava mulled for a bit, taking it all in. Then she nodded. 

"Any more news?"

"Tons more, but you're now well acquainted with the biggest ones," Ava bowed, "leave the lesser ones for me. I'll have them taken care of."

The Wizard glanced at her with furrowed brows. "Might one of those lesser ones be another breach of the walls?"

Ava's lips parted. She shifted on her feet. "I'm afraid so, sir. But not exactly. It's something else on the radar—a powerful source of energy has started approaching our federation a few hours ago and continues to approach as we speak."

The Wizard scoffed and rubbed at his temples. "Ava, you foolish girl. This piece of news is obviously of the most importance. I figured there was something you weren't telling me. What was your reason for refraining?"

Ava frowned. "I-...." she looked down, "I didn't want to bother you. You're retiring soon and I don't want to make things harder for you. As far as I can tell, you've been doing most of the work these days. I just thought it would be better to not tell you about this problem and instead fix it myself."

The Wizard looked her in the eyes. "I am old, but my senses are still on point. I noticed the presence of that ominous being a full two days ago myself."

Ava widened her eyes. She was but astounded. She oftentimes forgot the Wizard was the most powerful man within the walls. Perhaps it was the way he obsessed over the successors. He always made it seem as though he was much weaker than them. Currently, he was at his limit and much stronger than them. But for how long would this truth remain?

"I apologize for my absurd actions," Ava bowed, "please forgive me."

"You are pardoned," the Wizard said, "but this is something you must promise never to repeat."

"I promise."

"Good."

"And please, mind your own business and stop prying at mine for christ's sake. My retirement has nothing to do with you. I'm old and you're not. You can still work hard, I cannot. This colony.... it needs someone.... someone like you, Avanna."

And yet, she was never to become its governor. She forced a soft smile. "Thank you, I guess."

"No," the Wizard smiled back, "thank you." 

"Am I interupting something?" asked a deep, chic voice from behind.

The Wizard slowly turned around only to see a man sitting in his chair. The man had his feet on the desk. His white curly hair fell on his face, a few even strange reaching his nose.

He fixed his white gloves on his hands.. "Mhm, how rude of you. No greetings to a former guest?"