"Oooh, I don't know," Sang said as she gritted her teeth. "I can screw with the system and get us there faster, but… it might tip off Draco. If they figure out that I'm the one hacking, it won't be hard for them to connect the dots."
"What a second!" Sahara said as she pointed to Fredlin. "Don't you have the Advanced Invisibility Spell?"
Fredlin shrugged. "Yeah, but what good is that going to do?"
"It's simple! We just cast invisibility on ourselves and have Jet fly us over the tournament. No one will see us since we're invisible!" Sahara said.
"Of course," Van said, "and then we just need to wear Rings of Soft-Falling so that we can jump off without anyone knowing how we got there."
"Draco will try to chase after Jet," Kylian said, "distracting them while we get into position."
"Sahara, you are a genius!" Van said. "Alright, team, new plan! We're going skydiving!"
Van gritted his teeth as he held onto the side of Jet's scales. He could see the dozens of tents set up in the valley beneath them. Large flaming words hovered above the tournament area, and they read: The End of Ages Starts Here. It was the most ironic sign he had ever seen.
"All ready!" Kylian ordered. "Jump on my mark!"
"I hate heights," Sahara groaned.
"It's not real," Sang said. "You're literally just sitting in your bedroom right now."
"Try telling my brain that," Sahara said.
"Three… two… one…" Kylian counted down. "Jump!"
Van leapt off the dragon and plummeted toward the ground. He couldn't see his allies at all, as the advanced invisibility spell made a player completely invisible to all forms of detection. Even friends couldn’t see each other. As he fell to the ground, he felt the ring around his finger buzz a little. The words Soft Fall – No Damage appeared in his UI as he continued toward the ground. Right before he smacked into the ground, a gust of wind blew beneath him, slowing his ascent down radically. His feet dropped to the grass gently.
"Whew, nice," he commented as he looked up at the sky. Thousands of arrows were being shot through the air in the hopes of hitting Jet, but the dragon was far too fast for them to have a chance of hitting him. The word Dodge! littered the air over and over again as Jet magnificently barrel rolled across the sky. A few griffon riders took off after him, but Jet didn't bother to engage them. Instead, he sounded off a triumphant roar and took off towards the South.
If anyone followed Jet, he would lead them to a large fortress that was full of players. These players, of course, were nothing more than illusions created by a few of the wizards of the Iron Dragons. The illusions would be enough to trick any casual observer into believing that the gathering was the Iron Dragon base. This fake base had been built a week ago, thanks to Bidane's quick thinking, and would serve as nothing more than a ruse to distract Draco while the real Iron Dragons moved into position.
A few voices caught Van's attention as he watched Jet disappear. He glanced around to see that he was standing right next to one of the brown tents that littered the entire field. It looked as if there were hundreds of players who had arrived early to the tournament and who had been camping for quite some time.
"This is it!" said one of the voices – a female. "This is going to be our ticket to the big leagues! Can you believe it? We're going to be Draco pros!"
"Calm yourself, woman," said another voice, this one gruff. "Do you know how many people are here? What level they are? How long they've been playing this game? We're not here to win because we can't win. Instead, we're here to make some friends."
"Friends? Speak for yourself, but I’m not going to try and endear myself to some Draco pro in the hopes of getting the crumbs of victory. I'm going for the whole piece of bread," the woman said back.
"Yeah, at level 15? Good luck."
"That's the thing," the girl said, whispering a little. "I heard a rumor. Don't know if it's real or not, but the rumor said that Draco's not just testing to see who has the best gear or not. They say that this tournament is going to be as realistic as possible."
"What does that mean?" the gruff man said back. "This game is already as realistic as possible."
"I'm not sure, but there were a few people who were adamant about… about this tournament being really different from all the other ones. I know we have a shot at greatness."
Different. What did that mean? Van grimaced as he thought back to his time in the Designated Reality Zone. Levels weren't nearly as important in those places as fighting ability was. Would this entire tournament be a DRZ? If so… that meant everyone in the tourney would be killable. Everyone would die except for five.
"There you are!" Sang said as she walked over and clapped Van on the shoulder, breaking his concentration. His invisibility spell had worn off without him noticing. "I cannot believe we pulled this off! Come on, we've got to go register."
"Yeah," Van said as he followed after his companion. If the tournament came down to kill or be killed, what would he do? For a moment, he felt envy for Sang's beliefs. But, that sensation quickly left his head as he saw a group of players walk past him. They were all laughing and shoving each other, telling jokes and bragging about how they were going to win. They had no clue that the game they were playing was meant to obliterate mankind. They were so innocent and ignorant.
"There!" Sang said as she pointed to a large tent with the word Registration hovering above it. The line wasn't too long. This was probably because the entire tournament had been moved up without any kind of major warning.
Kylian, Fredlin, and Sahara were already in line. They waved Van and Sang over.
"That went amazingly well!" Sahara said as Van joined her in line.
"Yeah, you had a really good idea," Van replied. "But let's try not to brag about it too much."
"Yes, sir!" Sahara said cheerfully. She gently leaned her head back, pressing against Van's chest. Van very slowly took half a step back to get away from her. He figured she had some kind of a crush on him, but he really didn't want to focus on that right now. The only thing that mattered was winning this tournament.
"Kylian!" Van said, waving to his ally. "A word?"
"What's up, boss?" Kylian asked as he switched positions in line with Sahara.
"I've been hearing some rumors about the tournament being ultra-realistic," Van whispered. "I'm thinking this means that the tourney is going to be a Designated Reality Zone."
"That ain't good," Kylian said. "That's gonna be a lot of dead players... I don't know about that, though. It... it wouldn't make much sense for them to do that."
"I'm just saying we need to be extra certain that we're all on the same team," Van said. "And that we're extra careful if we end up on opposite sides."
"Good point," Kylian said. "Well, let's just do what we can."
"Should we tell Sahara?" Van asked. "I don't think she's equipped to risk her life for the cause."
Kylian shook his head. "She's stuck around so far. You've told every recruit that they're risking their lives to defeat Draco. She's had every opportunity to leave, like the rest of us. If we're risking our lives in this stupid tournament, then it's no different than if we were rushing one of Draco's DRZs."
"Good point," Van said as the line began to move forward again. "I'm just nervous."
"I think we all are," Kylian said. "I think we all are."
The team idly chatted as they made progress through the line. After an hour, they were finally able to reach the front of the line. There was a single NPC sitting beneath the tent; he was an Orc with the words Registrar Level 44.
'Next in line," the Orc called.
Van walked up and pressed the clipboard on the table. An interface popped up in front of him.