The next day, at the tournament venue.

Today, the crowd was two-thirds thinner; a vast expanse of empty seats stretched across the stands.

Just last night, after Hilia confirmed that Adrian steadfastly refused to rescind his decision, she contacted the reporters who’d been trying to reach her, issuing a warning to everyone—alerting them that the cult might act again today, and advising all for their safety not to attend the competition.

As for Hilia, she disguised herself and walked into the arena, positioning herself on the periphery, ready to see what the heretics would attempt today.

Benovia and others believed Hilia’s warning; though they came, they had no intention of competing. When summoned by the referee, they planned to relay their refusal to the committee.

After that, they retreated well away from the scene, intending to watch from a safe distance whatever chaos would unfold.

Time arrived swiftly.

The team from the Northern Alliance was already on stage; on the other side, there was no one.

The referee looked toward the Ista delegation’s lounge: "Divine One Squad, last three minutes. If you don’t step onto the stage, it will be considered forfeiting the match."

The Northern Alliance team mocked them.

"Hahaha, are you scared or what?"

"That rule-breaking Miss Xilia even told the papers there’d be a cult attack today. Are you scared of the cult?"

"Heard you’re from the Holy Court—so that’s what cowards from the Holy Court look like, huh? Ha!"

"We let you win two days ago, and now you just run after one round. So boring."

"..."

Soon, the Divine Magic Academy’s mentor used the broadcast system to deliver the Divine One Squad’s decision to the committee.

Just as the referee prepared to announce the winning team, the sky suddenly darkened.

Everyone looked up to see a black vortex appear overhead.

From within the vortex, a terrifying demonic qi pollution emanated.

A figure soared upward—Gerard flew toward the vortex, his arrogant voice echoing: "The tournament proceeds as usual—hmph, it’s just a cult, no need to worry."

With that, he summoned his magic puppet; the puppet wielded a sword, purple light glittering on its blade, bolts of lightning crackling along the edge.

He confronted the vortex head-on, blocking all its emanations, radiating an aura of unyielding pride.

On the competition stage, seeing Gerard rise to meet the threat, the referee breathed a sigh of relief.

Just as he was about to announce the winner, something changed underfoot.

The once solid stage suddenly transformed into a black vortex.

All the participants above, including the referee, were sucked into the vortex.

The underground vortex resonated with the one in the sky, instantly generating an immense suction, drawing everyone present on the field toward the two whirlpools.

In a flash, every ordinary spectator was lifted off the ground, flying toward both vortices.

Some unlucky souls were caught in the center, pulled by the forces from both sides—torn limb from limb, splintered and shredded on the spot.

All this happened in barely a second.

Gerard, high in the sky, wanted to stop it but ended up trapped by the vortex above.

At the same time, several terrifying magic missiles streaked in from afar, targeting the opposition.

Each missile carried a potent energy force, enough for even Tier Six Mages to treat with caution.

At the committee’s seats, Adrian’s face turned deathly pale, scrambling desperately toward the vortex on the ground.

When he reached above the vortex, he realized it wasn’t magic at all, but—

A subspace channel!

Both this vortex and the one overhead were subspace channels forcibly torn open by human hands.

Adrian had no idea where the channel led, but the terrifying pollution seeping out made even him—a Tier Five Mage—tremble inside.

He tried attacking it, only to find his efforts utterly useless.

On the edge of the arena, Hilia sat in a chair, steady as a mountain, unaffected by the suction force.

Beside her, Rose’s form began to gradually materialize.

Hilia looked at Rose: "Lord Rose, this subspace entrance..."

"It is the Abyss Gate," Rose confirmed, "These sects joined forces; opening the Abyss Gate was bound to happen."

"So it really is the legendary Abyss..."

Hilia had heard Rose speak of the Abyss many times.

She knew Rose had been sealed in the Endless Abyss.

It seemed to be beneath the Abyss, and to reach it, you would have to traverse the entire Abyss.

The Abyss, according to Rose, was a hell teeming with powerful demons; magic power was scarce, and what existed was maddeningly polluted demonic qi. Most of its monsters knew only slaughter—any that escaped would ravage an entire region, turning it into a wasteland of pollution.

Jonathan had even said: the Era of Calamity five hundred years ago, lasted as long as it did because the Divine King opened the Abyss Gate.

And now...

Hilia anxiously watched those two vortices, her heart racing: "The opening of the Abyss Gate caused five hundred years of calamity—does that mean the calamity is starting again?"

Rose chuckled and shook his head: "The Abyss Gate’s impact depends on who opens it; an Abyss Gate opened by the Divine King is nothing like one opened by low-tier mages.

"At this level, whether it can destroy the whole city is uncertain—but destroying the arena is assured."

Hilia saw some Tier One Mages sucked in as well.

Gerard above was fending off incoming attacks from afar, Adrian below was still trying to fight, but the Abyss Gate remained unmoved, showing no sign of closing.

The suction from the Abyss Gate continued to intensify, and those competitors who had come were now fleeing under the leadership of their delegations.

Meanwhile, the heads of various imperial delegations watched coldly from the sidelines.

Adrian, frantic and overwhelmed, saw that Nikodemos—nearest to him—was simply spectating and not helping; instantly he raged, "Lord Nikodemos, what are you just standing there for? Aren’t you going to help?"

Nikodemos chuckled, "I wouldn’t dare, President Adrian. I’m worried if I interfere, the rest of our academy’s contestants might be disqualified, and that would be troublesome."

Adrian snapped, "Well now I order you to assist me!"

Nikodemos’ expression slowly chilled: "What, has the tournament committee grown powerful enough to command the whole world?"

"You... Don’t make me disqualify every contestant from your Ista Empire!"

Adrian’s face was ashen; he knew after this incident, he himself might not survive the fallout, such that he’d begun babbling nonsense.

Nikodemos snorted, "The other Empires’ Tier Five Mages aren’t helping you either. I suggest you just disqualify everyone, and let the Northern Alliance play by themselves."

Adrian tried to retort, but a frenzied beast’s roaring erupted from the Abyss Gate.

In the next instant, a demon crossed through the Abyss Gate, landing on the stage, its mouth smeared with blood—a sign that those sucked inside were likely doomed.

After it appeared, it tilted its head back and howled, announcing its arrival.

Soon, more and more demons passed through the Abyss Gate, descending upon this land!