32 The 9th World Champion Tournament 2

In the early years of YGGDRASIL's surging popularity, a tournament was announced, one that was unlike any other seen before in the game. A grand tournament, one sanctioned and sponsored by the developers themselves. A tournament to end all tournaments.

Thus began the World Champion Tournament.

As the first of its kind, this tournament caused an explosion in the competitive scene and immediately gained immense success, becoming a staple within the game and its community.

A tournament that set out to answer one question: who was worthy of being touted as the strongest?

Within the center of Und Ljósinn stood a grand stadium fashioned in the style of the Roman colosseum of old. One that towered over all other buildings and could be seen across the entire port city. The stadium was enormous, capable of easily seating 100,000 Players alone within its venue.

On this day, it will be the site where the final World Champion will be crowned.

Even with the abrupt announcement, the 9th World Champion Tournament stirred up a great deal of excitement amongst the player base. This special event was poised to become the grandest spectacle in the history of the platform, and its timing couldn't have been more perfect. The tournament coincided with the 10th anniversary of the launch of YGGDRASIL, adding a touch of extra significance to the occasion. It easily eclipsed the previous World Champion Tournaments, with the turnout rates being astronomically high, double that of the previous years, making it the most attended event of its kind. The 9th World Champion Tournament would be the last of its kind, and all wanted to be there to watch the momentous occasion and see how the most prestigious competition in all of YGGDRASIL history would come to a close.

The stadium was packed to the brim with spectators, eagerly anticipating the upcoming tournament. Tens of thousands of Players of all shapes and sizes scurried about, searching for any available spot, while those who had already secured their seats buzzed with anticipation. The air was charged with an electrifying energy that was impossible to ignore, even though the tournament had yet to commence.

The opening ceremony was an unforgettable spectacle, with all eight reigning World Champions making a grand entrance. It was a thrilling sight that only added to the already sky-high hype for the competition, leaving everyone raring to go for the upcoming matches.

With the majority of the audience being seated and quickly getting settled down, along with the presence of all tournament combatants being confirmed, a single boisterous voice boomed over the cacophony.

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN. DUDES AND DUDETTES. GAMERS OF ALL AGES AND SIZES! I HAVE ONLY ONE QUESTION FOR YOU. ARE. YOU. READDDYYYY?!" A loud and overexcited voice rang out, drawing cheers and roars from the crowd.

"THEN LET'S MAKE SOME NOISE, PEOPLE!"

The audience happily obliged, shouting at the top of their lungs, splitting the air as the very foundation of the colosseum shook from the intensity.

"HELL' YEA! THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT FOLKS! WELCOME, EVERYONE, TO THE 9TH AND FINAL INSTALLMENT OF YGGDRASIL'S MOST ILLUSTRIOUS TOURNAMENT. THE ONE, THE ONLY, THE WORLD CHAMPION TOURNAMENT! I HAVE THE HONOR OF BEING TODAY'S COMMENTATOR. MY NAME'S BOB!"

"And I am his co-commentator, Sam. And might I add, what a beautiful sunny day it is in the lovely town of Und Ljósinn. Why, you couldn't have picked a better setting than today! What an honor it is for us to be your hosts and to have you all here with us today on this spectacular event." A second voice joined in, soother and poignant in comparison to his co-commentators wild rambunctiousness.

Amidst all this, Ainz Ooal Gown sat comfortably in their seat, waiting for the final check-ups to finish. The guild managed to snag a nice spot, the perfect distance that granted them a generous view of the arena and stadium as a whole.

They sat amongst their peers, the Heteromorphic and Demi-human Players were surrounded by a sea of Humanoid Players making up the vast majority of the stadium's seating capacity. Their numbers took up only one-eighth of the total seats in the stadium. A clear division was evident, but nonetheless, the air was charged with excitement as both sides put aside their differences to revel in the spectacle about to unfold.

The clear divide between the player base and community notwithstanding, the atmosphere was one of unity as everyone eagerly awaited the event to unfold.

And for one newcomer in particular, she was having the time of her life.

Reina, or Sigfrida, as she has chosen her gamertag, looked around with wide, sparkling eyes. Her amethyst eyes drifted from one end of the colosseum to the other, greedily taking in the sight in front of her. The flashing lights, the booming sounds, the roaring crowd, the utter grand spectacle of it all—it was nothing short of amazing and overwhelming.

Although she had attended numerous sporting events in the past, hosted in prestigious stadiums and venues, thanks to her father's connections, none of them compared to the spectacle that lay before her in YGGDRASIL. Every aspect of the virtual world captivated her with an intensity that she had never experienced before. It was as if she was transported to a whole new world, a whole new realm of entertainment, a world of unparalleled experiences and sensations. Had she known that this was what awaited her, she would have heeded her boyfriend's advice and plunged into YGGDRASIL much earlier. The grandeur of it all was overwhelming, and she savored every moment of it.

Though relatively new to the gaming sphere, even she could feel the zeal buzzing through the air, sucking her in. Her own body jittered with unrestrained anticipation for what was to come. She was sitting on the edge of her seat, and like everyone else, she couldn't wait for the tournament and fighting to begin in earnest.

"It seems like someone's excited." A voice teased.

At her side was her boyfriend, his elbow resting against his knees while he rested his head on his palm while facing her. Sigfrida could all but see that loopy smile on her partner's face behind that golden-beaked mask of his.

"I'm fine, Kazut— I mean Pero." She corrected.

When Sigfrida finally started playing YGGDRASIL with her boyfriend and his friends, he gave her a crash course on the do's and don'ts of how to play. She was a quick learner and got it all in time, but there was one thing that she had a bit of trouble with, more confused than with any actual difficulty.

When online, it was customary for them to address each other by their respective online handles, regardless of the situation at hand. This was mostly observed when they were in the presence of others.

When questioned about the reason behind this practice, particularly since she was well-acquainted with him and his sister Chihiro, and addressed them by their given names, Kazuto explained that it was a matter of player etiquette or something similar. Honestly, even now she doesn't understand or get the whole logic behind it, but she promised, and so she made an effort. Of course, there was the occasional slip.

"Hmm…" He let out a hum, leaning in.

"So, what do you think?"

She rolled her eyes at the question. Sigfrida wouldn't have taken issue with it if Peroroncino hadn't asked the same darn question over what felt like a hundred times already when she first started playing the DMMO-RPG. The first couple of times, she could understand, but any more than that was just plain excessive.

He leaned forward with a hand cupped to his ear, waiting to hear her answer.

She sighed. "I've admitted that this is amazing already. Jeez, just how many times do you want me to say it?"

"Until the end of time." Peroroncino answered seriously. A front that lasted all but a second before he snickered.

"Yeah, I'm not doing that…" Sigfrida deadpanned, shaking her head.

She loved her boyfriend, but he could be such an insufferable doofus at times. Then again, it wasn't like she was completely innocent as well. After all, what healthy relationship wasn't without its fair share of colorful banter and shows of one-upmanship? But there was a difference between being cheeky and being insufferable, what with the constant prodding and reminders just to get at her.

"Seriously, what else do you want me to say? I've already said you were right about YGGDRASIL, so what more do you want?" She groaned tiredly.

Immediately, Peroroncino dropped all pretense of what was going on.

"S-sorry. Being a bit of an insufferable jerk, haven't I?" He asked in his normal voice, recognizing his fault.

"You'd think?" Sigfrida leveled a flat glare at her boyfriend.

"I'm sorry." He winced slightly, glancing away with his hand rubbing the back of his neck. "I'll drop it, I promise. Forgive me?"

Peroroncino leaned in, head tilted upwards, as he gave his best puppy dog impression. Even going the extra mile by adding cute whines. Sigfrida rolled her eyes again, giving him a playful push.

"You're lucky I find you cute." She huffed but smiled nevertheless. "All's forgiven."

Sigfrida leaned in to give him a peck on the cheek, with the winged archer preening. He returned a kiss of his own as the two hugged it out. The adorable display of affection earned a few d'awwws from their friends.

"Wow, bird brain is apologizing and being sentimental. Nice job, new girl; keep up the good work on keeping Sir Pervs-a-lot on a tight leash." Ulbert snickered, flashing her a thumbs-up emoticon. A few others chuckled respectfully alongside him.

"Oi, what's that supposed to mean?!"

"It means you prefer being a bottom bitch!"

"Hah! Shows what you know." Peroroncino crowed boastfully, sitting there smugly with his arms crossed over his chest. "While I am a true connoisseur and do like spicing things up, if anyone enjoys being on the bottom, it would be—"

"What was that, dear?" His girlfriend asked him in an all too sugary-sweet voice.

Peroroncino felt a hand clamped tightly on his shoulder; his entire body stiffened as all his instincts told him, "Whatever you do, do not turn around or you're dead!"

"It sounds to me that someone needs some more proper disciplining, followed by a good few months on the couch..."

"W-what I meant to say was that if anyone enjoys being on the bottom, it would be me! After all, that way I'm always able to look up to my most beautiful, my most darling, and my most wonderful girlfriend in the entire world!" Peroroncino squeaked in a high-pitched voice, instantly submissive.

"That's what I thought. Good boy." Sigfrida cooed.

Her hand reached up, giving him a loving scratch underneath his chin. The golden avian purred, his body physically shivering and leaning into her touch.

In the background, Peroroncino heard a sound that sounded very much like the crack of a whip, though he paid it little mind.

Sitting a row above them, Destana and Momonga had front-row seats following the couple's little flirt. The angel was among those who d'awww at the sight of the two of them. Draping herself over her lover, she rested her head against his broad shoulder and playfully ran her finger up and down his exposed ribcage.

"Aren't they just adorable?" The Aerosphere sighed fondly at the young couple's display.

"I... guess?" Momonga offered.

"We need to step up our game. Momon-kun! We can't afford to lose to them! Ainz Ooal Gown has room for only one power couple, and that's us!" Destana sat up straight, a fist clenched together, as a fiery determination entered her eyes.

"It isn't even a competition..." He tried to say.

"Anything's a competition if you put your mind to it! Just like how anything can be a dildo if you're brave enough!"

Momonga slowly turned towards his girlfriend in quiet disbelief at the outlandish words he just heard. His mouth opened before closing with a shake of his head. He refused to even dignify the matter with a response.

The undead sorcerer couldn't help but sputter internally. He knew his lover to be the type to speak before thinking, but even after all these years, his girlfriend remained as spontaneous as ever. There were genuinely times when he was left baffled with no idea of what goes through her head sometimes, with this being another tally added to the long list, and quite frankly, he'd considered that a blessing.

The salaryman knew better than to try and fight against it, especially at her own game.

"Why?" Momonga asked instead, hoping to change the subject.

"Well, all this talk has gotten me curious. And well, I'm feeling a bit adventurous. Why don't we follow their lead and try some experimenting?" Destana whispered flirtatiously, blowing in his ear. An act that sent pleasant shivers down his spine.

"And wouldn't you know it, that special lingerie I once caught you browsing, you know the one, finally arrived. What'd you say about after this tournament, when either Warrior Takemikazuchi-san or Emiya-san wins, I give my special little darling his own victory celebration ~ "

Momonga gulped.

For an angel, she sure acted like a devil with all her temptations. Then again, no one was going to hear any complaints, especially from Momonga of all people.

"I'll think about it..."

Destana cooed triumphantly.

"That's all I ask for." She purred temptingly, tracing his jawline with a sensual finger and planting a chaste smooch on his skeletal cheekbones.

Momonga simply bobbed his head with the motion while Destana made herself comfortable, cuddling up with him. His skeletal arm automatically wrapped around her, pulling her in as his flowing robes covered her like a blanket.

"The two of them really are whipped." Momonga heard Bukubukuchagama whisper, followed by the quiet snickering from Yamaiko.

His head snapped towards the source, finding the two of them sitting with Ankoro Mocchi Mochi. The three of them giggled like schoolgirls. The pink slime gave them a cheeky wave in support, which Destana returned with a dainty wave of her own.

Momonga fixed the trio with a halfhearted glare and a pout.

Suddenly, loud and triumphant celebratory horns sounded off. Every head in the stadium turned to the front as a cascade of lights and colorful fireworks filled the skies above with confetti raining softly down on the audience in the stands. The very air itself vibrated with exhilaration and energy as it was finally time for the main event to begin.

"ON THIS DAY, ONE HUNDRED AND TWENTY-EIGHT PLAYERS HAVE GATHERED, BUT ONLY ONE SHALL REMAIN. ONLY ONE SHALL BE VICTORIOUS. ONLY ONE SHALL HAVE THE HONOR OF BEING CROWNED THE 9TH WORLD CHAMPION - THE WORLD CHAMPION OF MIDGARD! THE QUESTION IS, WHO SHALL IT BE?!"

Following the commentator's announcement, spotlights bloomed across the stadium, scattering before focusing on the central arena. The outer edge of the stage floor peeled away as a platform was raised. One by one, the contestants were revealed. Each one was accompanied by numerous large holographic screens appearing in the air, displaying the Player's appearance and name for the audience to see. The same flashy introduction would continue for all one hundred and twenty-eight competitors, with each having a moment in the limelight.

Each reveal was met with a mixture of cheers but also boos, but then again, this was YGGDRASIL, so such behavior was par for the course.

When Warrior Takemikazuchi made his appearance, Ainz Ooal Gown cheered just as loud. They waved and screamed out the samurai's name in hopes that their friend might hear them.

However, their voices were buried under the sea of the other tens of thousands of others, becoming indistinguishable and ultimately incomprehensible. The guild at least hoped he could somehow spot them, but knew that was a challenge in its own right.

When Shirou took his spot on the field, Ainz Ooal Gown cheered with equal fervor, shouting their support. During this, the two made an effort and looked around, and by a stroke of luck, it was Shirou that managed to spot their general area.

"Look!" Amanomahitotsu yelled, making his voice heard over all the cheering. His large claw pointed at their friend. "I think he sees us!"

This only made them try even harder. If they squinted, they could see Shirou looking in their direction.

He waved, calling out to the armored Heteromorph, and pointed in the guild's general direction. Warrior Takemikazuchi quickly joined in, waving with him. Though Ainz Ooal Gown couldn't tell if they were shouting anything back or not, the fact that they managed to pluck them out from the crowd was more than enough.

At last, all one hundred and twenty-eight Players made their debut.

"A moment, please. Before we can begin, we have a very special guest joining us on this day. Marking his first-ever sponsored appearance, he is none other than the founder and CEO of Kaleidoscope Industry himself!"

"THAT'S RIGHT! HE'S THE GENIUS THAT BROUGHT YGGDRASIL TO LIFE AND THE MAN THAT PAYS OUR PAYCHECK! SO GIVE A LOUD ROUND OF APPLAUSE FOR THE MAN, THE MYTH, THE LEGEND HIMSELF: ZELRETCH!"

There was no denying the bubbling curiosity that rippled through the entire stadium and those watching from beyond at the news that the CEO himself would be making his first ever on-screen appearance. Unrestrained chatter filtered through the air, with many within the audience talking over themselves in hushed voices and excited whispers.

They've all heard of the name Zelretch in one form or another, some in passing and others in pursuit of curiosity.

Despite being a revolutionary figure in the world of VR gaming, there was surprisingly very little public information about the man, and even fewer public images and photos credited to him. The genius behind YGGDRASIL has remained an enigma for years.

On this day, however, one such mystery would finally be unveiled to them at last.

"TAKE IT AWAY, BOSSMAN!"

Momonga and many others looked around, trying to spot the man of the hour, before a loud concession of voices pointed him out. There, in the center, was a podium that wasn't there before.

Climbing to the top at a leisurely pace was none other than the man that was on everyone's mind, Zelretch.

The various holographic screens captured his ascension up the steps of the podium, allowing for his appearance to be shown in full.

The first thing that popped into Momonga's mind was the way he carried himself. There was a pedigree of nobility to him, an aura of sophistication as if he were plucked straight from the time of aristocrats. The man's elderly, wizened face was creased with lines and wrinkles, yet he carried himself with a genial smile that made him appear almost grandfatherly. His attire was equally impressive, featuring a collared shirt, dark trousers, and a buttoned vest that all contributed to a striking suave aesthetic. But what truly caught Momonga's attention was the man's long cape coat, which billowed dramatically with every step he took.

Once upon a time, Momonga asked Shirou about the man. He was curious to learn about the fabled CEO, and his friend easily obliged. His friend described Zelretch in terms of not just his appearance but also his presence. He spoke of an unmistakable mystique to the man that drew people in like a magnetic field. A gravitas that made it impossible to ignore his presence.

Upon witnessing the man himself with his own eyes, the Guildmaster of Ainz Ooal Gown had a clearer understanding of what his friend meant by his words.

All the world's gaze bore down on him, yet he didn't appear all that bothered, as if it were a simple walk in the park. First impressions were everything, and for his first public appearance since the game's launch, none could deny that he held himself with regal grace.

Reaching the top of the platform, he took a moment to look around, casting his striking crimson gaze across the stadium and audience, as well as the contestants. His cane scepter clacked against the platform, producing a sound and calling for silence. The audience hushed in record time.

Zelretch then produced a microphone out of thin air, bringing a fist to his mouth and clearing his throat; the sound of the action echoed due to the microphone catching it. Many leaned in, curious and expectant of what was to come next.

"Thank you, thank you. You're all too kind." He greeted. Even his voice had a certain sonorous dignity to it. Rich and firm, but also light and familiar.

"So…" Zelretch prompted, the microphone catching the soft sound of his tongue clicking as if he were gathering his thoughts on what to say next. His hand also reached into his vest, pulling out a small stack of cue cards.

"This is normally where I spew a bunch of formality and tripe that my writing team and PR department green light for me to say here, but quite frankly, I doubt anyone here actually gives two shits about that."

He then nonchalantly threw the cards over his shoulder, garnering some mirth from the audience. The viewers watched with rapt attention, curious as to what he'd say or do next.

"So, why don't we get what we're all here for? Welcome one and all to the 9th World Champion Tournament. You have all gathered today to celebrate and be awed by those who are clearly your betters. In combat, skills, and tactics, they are unmatched by any of you and, as such, must seek out their peers. So, for the sake of alleviating the boredom they must feel at being as strong as they are compared to the average peon, I have decided to have them fight tooth and nail for my amusemen— I mean, blessing! Yes, incredible wealth, a powerful title, and a World Item, all await the future World Champion of Midgard! And as for our lovely competitors for this special event, all I have to say is this: Seeing as you're all the best of the best, that means you should put on a decent show. So do your best and try to make it interesting, will ya'? Else, I'll get bored and fall asleep!"

Without missing a beat, Zelretch held out his hand with the microphone in it and dropped the mic.

"Adios!"

The CEO flashed a two-finger peace sign before vanishing from sight, leaving behind a silent and utterly bewildered audience.

Everyone in the stadium and beyond watching collectively blinked, a second of silence passing before every single voice both inside and outside the stadium clamored to life, louder and greater than previously. Each voice drowned out the other. The air trembled as a cacophony of voices rose, vocalizing their displeasure with angry boos, loud slurs, raging curses, and the passionate cries of "shitty devs!" The sheer discord extended beyond the stadium and even Und Ljósinn itself and could be heard for kilometers across the realm of Midgard.

"Wow…" Destana let out a whistle in quiet astonishment. "That's got to be one of the sharpest, most backhanded speeches I've ever heard!" She cackled uncontrollably, holding her belly and leaning on her boyfriend.

In one speech alone, he managed to mock not just everyone sitting in the audience but the very Players competing in the tournament as well. She'd heard the stories and reputation of the developers and workers of the game being so polarizing, but seeing the CEO of the company itself, who could be likened to the king of the shitty devs, she slightly underestimated them and Zelretch.

The ability to rile up and piss off no doubt hundreds of thousands of people, if not more, with only a few choice sentences, that was an art form.

"WELL, THAT WAS SOMETHING! WITH THAT OUT OF THE WAY, LET'S GET THIS SHOW ON THE ROAD!"

Powering through the discord, some kind of machine appeared within the center, containing numerous small balls inside a glass dome. Additionally, an empty tournament bracket appeared on the screens. The raging audience managed to simmer down upon seeing this; their agitation was replaced with curiosity and eagerness as the tournament moved onto its next phase.

"For this tournament, the Players shall be drawing slots. Each will go up and roll a random ball with a number assigned to it. They are numbered one through one hundred and twenty-eight. Whatever number they shall receive determines the order in which the Players are allowed to select their spot for when and where they wish to fight in the tournament bracket." Sam explained.

This sparked immediate discussion amongst the audience. In the past, the matches were decided via a randomizer, but now the power to decide who and when they'll be fighting lies with the contestants. Many were curious to see just how such a thing would go.

Momonga stroked his chin as he and Ainz Ooal Gown conversed, debating over the logistics of the rule given and the possible outcome.

While simple on paper, the number of possibilities associated with the Player's decision was exceedingly intricate. Whoever was fortunate enough to have the first or early picks would be able to choose when they wanted their opening fight, allowing them to set their pace. However, that advantage can quickly change depending on the latter picks, should a Player pick an available slot in correspondence to certain opponents or order. There were advantages and disadvantages to every pick, and one needed to be mindful of their selection and consider not just their immediate match-up but their potential future match-up as well.

The sheer number of potential combinations and match-ups was staggering, making the selection process its own metagame.

One by one, each combatant walked up to the machine and rolled for their number. It was accompanied by a visual effect of the balls spinning within the dome before one was dispensed to the Player. A number flashed, one that only they could see, before walking back to their original spot. This continued for every single Player and once everyone had a ball, the numbers were called out, beginning with the first.

From there, the crowd watched on as each Player revealed their number and made their selection. Some were quick about it. Others took far longer to deliberate their options. The latter earned several impatient shouts from the crowd, chastising them to hurry it up.

As the bracket slowly filled with more and more names, Momonga and many others noticed that certain slots were avoided entirely. Most noticeably, the very first match of the tournament. Those two slots remained empty since the beginning.

Until a certain magus stepped forward.

"I'll take the first slot."

The moment it was Shirou's turn, he had already made his choice.

This caused a small stir amongst the audience, seeing how he didn't even hesitate in his decision.

"The first match right off the bat? That's bold. But won't that mean he'll be at a slight disadvantage since he'll be showing his cards first?" Momonga heard Destana say.

"You're not wrong." He said, grabbing her attention. His skeletal fingers interlocked, his chin resting on it. "If I had to guess, I'd say impatience might've been a deciding factor." A hint of worry leaked through.

"...But, taking the first slot isn't necessarily a bad decision either. No matter which slot he could've picked, the match would've revealed his hand one way or another. The very same can be said for every Player and their respective matches. True, by going first, he'll be giving his future opponents a glimpse of what's to come and time to plan against him, but the reverse is also true. By finishing his match first, he'll be able to devote the rest of the first round to scoping out the competition while preserving his momentum for the upcoming fights. He'll have plenty of time to devise a strategy or two or five to deal with the potential victors."

The Aerosphere smiled softly and giggled under her breath. "That's quite the confident, babe. And here I thought you'd fall into the usual pessimistic rut, seeing as you were raving on about this being a World Champion Tournament and all that."

Momonga chuckled, smiling along.

"It won't be easy, but I would be a poor friend if I didn't believe in him all the way." The undead king flashed her a smile. "But no matter the challenge, I know that both Emiya-san and Warrior Takemikazuchi-san will rise to the occasion and surpass it. Especially Emiya-san. For when he puts his mind to it, then there's nothing he can't achieve. As for us, it's our duty to cheer both of them on."

"Hah! You got that right! Let's go!"

Destana happily cheered on, rallying the others and fist-bumping the air.

The rest of the matchup continued as normal, with Warrior Takemikazuchi taking the final slot of the last match for the first round. This put the two guild members on opposite blocks, preventing them from going up against one another. At least until the final round, should it ever come to it.

It wouldn't be long before all the matches were finalized. The filled tournament bracket was boldly displayed on the large holographic screens for all to see. All the fighters teleported away and returned to the holding wings, leaving the arena barren once more.

And thus, there was only one thing left to do.

"In the immortal words of Gaius Julius Caesar, Alea iacta est! The die is cast! On this very day, history will be made! The question is, who shall be the one to take it all?! What shall emerge victorious amongst all?! Who shall reign supreme as the 9th and final World Champion?!"

"THERE'S ONLY ONE WAY TO FIND OUT HERE, FOLKS! AND SO, LET THE 9TH WORLD CHAMPION TOURNAMENT BEGIN! AND FOR THE OPENING MATCH TO START US OFF, WE HAVE — HUH?!"

As the roaring cheers of the audience reached their crescendo, it was interrupted as the announcers paused mid-speech. A sound of confusion left the commentator's booth and speakers, followed by a sudden yawning silence.

Much of the excitement in the audience dipped. Many frowned, looking around and wondering what the holdup was. After a minute or two, the speakers crackled to life, and the commentators returned.

"We deeply apologize for the wait. Due to an abrupt and extraneous issue, the tournament will be unfortunately delayed until further notice until the matter is resolved. We appreciate your patience." The response came from Sam, his tone already suggesting that he was bracing himself for the fallout to come.

For a beat or two, there was nothing but silence before the stadium exploded into noise.

"Are you KIDDING ME?!"

"What the hell?!"

"Start the fucking matches already?!"

To say that everyone was mad would be an understatement to end all understatements. Everyone, from those in the stadium to those watching from afar or in the comfort of their abode, was united in that singular moment. Boos and hollers filled the air as everyone yelled to make their anger known, in addition to a few colorful choices of words at the inexplicable interruption. But besides whining about it, they had no choice but to wait. Of course, that didn't stop them from blaming the shitty devs for the issue, for when in doubt, blame the developers. It was always those shitty devs' fault, one way or another.

The same sentiment was shared with all the competitors waiting in the holding wing. While the rest were expressing their discontent, Warrior Takemikazuchi found himself preoccupied with a whole other matter entirely.

'Where's Emiya-san?' He wondered, taking notice of his friend's absence, and began searching.

In the meantime, the two commentators sought to pass the time however they could. The last thing they needed was a full-blown uproar on their hands. They began commentating, hoping to quell the discontentment.

"W-well, for those of you new or just joining us for the first time, I say welcome!" Sam coughed, trying to regain some semblance of control. "Allow me to give a brief rundown of the rules for the World Champion Tournament."

"The World Champion Tournament follows standard tournament rules, with each match being a deathmatch. The match only ends once one of the Player's health bars has been completely depleted or if one chooses to concede anytime during the match."

"IF YOU WANT TO PUSS OUT LIKE A LITTLE BITCH, THAT IS."

"Right…" He coughed again at his co-commentator's rather crude paraphrase, though it did manage to earn some chuckles from the audience and help lighten up the mood.

"Unlike other standard tournaments, the usage of cash items and even World Items is strictly prohibited to prevent item abuse and fair play. All contestants are screened beforehand and are only allowed to use the equipment, weapons, and gear that they have registered and which has been approved by the management. However, for this year, a special ruling has been added. The combatants are allowed one request for substitution of a singular item or weapon, but they must be given approval before use by the organizers and cannot be requested right before the Player's respective matches. In addition, the Player's inventory is also locked off to prevent any potential item usage or exploits. [Message]'s are disabled, preventing Players from receiving help from outside sources that could give them an advantage over their opponents."

Most were uninterested in the rules, but the addendum of the singular substitution was an interesting development, and many were curious to see how the fighters intend to use it in the upcoming matches.

"The World Champion Tournament is lauded as the greatest competitive tournament in YGGDRASIL and sponsored by Kaleidoscope Industry, not simply for its prestige but for what it represents. To achieve victory, it'll come down to not just which Player has the better build or who's more powerful, but their innate skill, experience, speed, coordination, wit, and even a stroke of luck. Only the best of the best will have the honor and privilege of being crowned the 9th World Champion! And Bob, I dare say any one of the contestants we have here today has a chance to win it all."

"HOW RIGHT YOU ARE MY FRIEND! SAMMIE, LET ME TELL YOU, I'M EXCITED. THESE FIGHTERS ARE THE CRÈME DE LA CRÈME, AND THE CREAM ALWAYS RISES TO THE TOP! WE'LL BE SEEING A GOOD SHOW ONE WAY OR ANOTHER. THEN AGAIN, SHOULD WE EXPECT ANY LESS FROM THE ANNUAL TOURNAMENT WHERE WE PIT SOME OF THE BEST AND STRONGEST PLAYERS ACROSS ALL OF YGGDRASIL AGAINST ONE ANOTHER TO SEE WHO'S BETTER AT MURDERIZING THE ABSOLUTE SHIT OUT OF THE OTHER!?"

"A bit of hyperbole, don't you think?" He asked his co-worker.

"BUT NOT COMPLETELY UNTRUE! AFTER ALL, WE AS A SPECIES HAVE ALWAYS SOUGHT VIOLENCE IN MANY FORMS OVER THE COUNTLESS CENTURIES. THE ROMANS HAD THEIR GLADIATOR MATCH, THE BARBARIANS THEIR SACRIFICIAL DEATHMATCHES TO THE GODS, AND THE AMERICANS HAVE FOOTBALL – NOT TO BE CONFUSED WITH THE ACTUAL ENGLISH FOOTBALL. THIS ONLINE TOURNAMENT IS BUT AN EVOLUTIONARY PROGRESSION IN OUR SEARCH FOR CONTROLLED VIOLENCE AND SPECTACLE. WHERE WE PIT STRANGERS ALIKE IN A TORRENT OF FIGHTS FOR THE AMUSEMENT AND PLEASURE OF OTHERS. ALL TO SATISFY OUR WANTON LUST FOR VIOLENCE. TRULY, WE AS A SPECIES ARE NOTHING MORE THAN RAVENOUS AND BELLIGERENT FOOLS."

"I mean… I can't argue with that… The first third, not so much the rest... A-Anyhow! As analysts, we'll also be providing points and play-by-play analysis for the fights to come. And I must say, I'm quite excited for when the matches finally start rolling. What say you, Bob?"

"I'M WITH YOU ON THAT, OLD CHUM! ALSO, MIGHT I ADD THAT AIN'T IT CRAZY THAT WE BOTH HAVE THE MOST COMMON AND GENERIC OF NAMES, ENGLISH NAMES MIGHT I ALSO ADD, AS WELL? IN A JAPANESE GAME NO LESS, HOW CRAZY IS THAT? WHY, IT'S ALMOST LIKE THE TWO OF US EXIST FOR NO HIGHER PURPOSE THAN TO MISAPPROPRIATE THE MOST MUNDANE ENGLISH NOMENCLATURES IN A JAPANESE MEDIUM, ALL FOR THE SAKE OF A JOKE."

By now, pockets of laughter had spread amongst the crowd, with many taking to enjoying the crazy banter between the two commentators. Though more than a few were confused and curious about where exactly this comedy sketch was going.

"A bit of a random thought... I mean… It's just a name, merely a gamertag. Plenty of people have their gamertags in English.

"THAT IS TRUE, BUT I'M GOING TO HAVE TO DISAGREE WITH YOU ON THAT FIRST PART, SAMMY. AFTER ALL, WHAT IS A NAME BUT A PIECE OF OURSELVES, AN OWNERSHIP OF WHO WE ARE? I'M BOB, THE OVERLY LOUD AND RUMBUSTIOUS COMMENTATOR THAT SPEAKS IN ALL CAPS TO SIGNIFY ME SPEAKING IN A BLARING VOICE TO SIGNIFY MY WILD ATTITUDE AND MAJOR ONE-NOTE CHARACTER PERSONALITY. AND YOU, SAMUEL, ARE THE STRAIGHT MAN TO MY CRAZINESS. THE VOICE OF REASON TO MY INSANITY! ELUCIDATING YOURSELF AS THE CALM AND COLLECTED TYPE. WHY, IT'S ALMOST AS IF OUR ROLES WERE PREORDAINED AND ALL WE ARE IS A GIMMICK OF A TROPE COMMONLY FOUND IN COMMENTATORS, REPRESENTING A DUALITY, FOR NOTHING MORE THAN EXPOSITION AND CHEEKY LAUGHS!"

"I... well... I mean. Ummm... Well, would you look at the time?! I believe that's enough banter for now." Sam cleared his throat, discomfort encroaching on his voice. "After all, we've got a tournament to help run! I must say, the turnout rate this time around is massive! So many Players are here right now, and undoubtedly hundreds of thousands more are watching at home and away. I dare say this tournament will be for the history book!"

"THAT WE CAN AGREE ON. FOR WE ARE TO BE A WITNESS TO WHAT'S TO COME, BUT NOT JUST US, BUT EVERYONE ELSE. YES, YOU, ALL OF YOU, THE TEEMING FACELESS AND NAMELESS MASSES! YOU, WHO SERVED NO OTHER PURPOSE BESIDES BEING PART OF A LABEL TO SHOW OFF A SUPERFLUOUS NUMBER. WE ARE ALL BUT SPECTATORS IN A WORLD WHERE WE ARE NO MORE THAN EXTRAS IN A MOVIE SET, OUR PURPOSE DERIVED TO GIVE NOTHING MORE THAN THE ILLUSION OF GRANDEUR AND SIZE."

By this point, much of the playful laughter had drifted, leaving only awkward pauses and concerned silence. It was kind of funny at first, but now it wasn't, and his words earned a considerable amount of arched brows and confused glances from the audience as they turned their attention towards the commentator booth. Much of the earlier humor was gone, and many weren't quite sure what to feel regarding the direction of where it all was going.

"Bob. A-are you ok...?" The analyst tentatively asked his co-worker, not wanting to pull the pin on that particular grenade but feeling he had little choice but to.

"SAM, IF I'M GOING TO BE HONEST, I AM NOT MY FRIEND. I HAVE GAZED INTO THE GREAT INFINITE WELL AND NOW REALIZE THAT WHAT WE CALL REALITY IS NOTHING MORE THAN AN ILLUSION. I NOW SEE PAST THE CURTAIN, THE 4TH WALL, AND SEE IT ALL TOO CLEARLY. THE FACE OF GOD, HE WHO CREATED AND COMMANDED US, AND I SEE OUR PURPOSE, THE VERY POINT OF OUR EXISTENCE. ALL THE WORLD'S A STAGE, AND ALL THE MEN AND WOMEN ARE MERELY ACTORS. AND HE, THE ONE BEHIND ALL OF THIS? HE IS THE DIRECTOR, THE CONDUCTOR OF OUR LIVES. THE MAN PULLING THE STRING AS IF WE WERE, BUT MERE PUPPETS TO HIS WHIM. AND THE MOMENT OUR PURPOSE IS FULFILLED, WHEN THE CURTAIN FINALLY DROPS, WE SHALL BE FOREVER BANISHED TO THE VOID, WHERE ALL FIGMENTS OF IMAGINATION GO WHEN NO LONGER NEEDED! ALL THE WHILE HOPING AND SQUEEZING WHAT MEAGER TIME WE HAVE SPENT AND BEEN SHOWN TO LEAVE ENOUGH OF A MEMORY AND IMPRESSION SO THAT WE MAY LIVE ON IN THE MINDS OF THE READER. THAT IS OUR PURPOSE HERE TODAY, AND SO IT SHALL BE, FOREVERMORE.

The moment he finished, all noise died within the stadium. A taut silence descended upon the stadium, enveloping not only the colosseum but the entire city of Und Ljósinn. A quietness so deep that even a cough would sound like a thunderstorm. Everyone in the audience and the viewers watching the live broadcast were all left speechless, unable to express the utter bewilderment they felt at what they just heard.

"Uhh... Umm... W-what?" Was all that was heard from Sam, representing everyone's thoughts. For what else could he say in the face of... that?

"OR AT LEAST, THAT'S WHAT IT SAYS HERE IN THE SCRIPTS AND DOCUMENTS I'VE GOT! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

The commentator box boomed with laughter as Bob's boisterous and borderline chaotic laugh echoed through the stadium and beyond. This jumpstarted things back up, with many joining in, seeing it as all a setup for an elaborate joke, and so they laughed along with the commentator. Most of it remained awkward, with the people laughing along as if unsure of what to make of the skit they just heard and choosing instead to laugh it off. Then there was a tiny fraction that was contemplative and near inconsolable, as if trying to wrap their fragile minds around the revelation revealed to them.

"B-but I don't see anything in my notes..." The sound of papers being flipped through and Sam's uncertain voice was drowned out by all the noise.