Staring at the Deadland Black Fungi, William paused for a full two seconds before slowly withdrawing his divine sense.

  He finally managed to suppress the overwhelming urge to throw that thing into the battlefield.

  “This is an internal competition within our civilization—a safe environment designed to foster student growth and showcase talent.”

  “It’s not an external war for plunder. Stay calm.”

  “I don’t know if the chief referee can handle the Deadland Black Fungi or not...”

  “But using such an indiscriminate attack, which could severely injure other contestants or even destroy the entire arena, just for the chance at that 300-million-point grand prize…”

  “That’s the kind of reckless, self-serving behavior that damages public property and shows a complete disregard for rules.”

  “It would almost certainly leave a mark on my personal record—maybe even a note about questionable character. That would make it much harder to get ahead in the system later.”

  “Best to wait until I’m in the field and see what this Divine Realm is really like.”

  Seeing that no one had further questions, Jakeri resumed his explanation:

  “This competition will last for three years—ample time.”

  “Detailed information about the battlefield must be discovered by yourselves.”

  “There are no restrictions on combat between contestants’ divine followers. However, killing enemy followers will not earn any points.”

  “That covers the basic rules. If there are any more questions, now is the time to ask.”

  Jakeri, acting as head referee, paused for a few seconds. Seeing no one speak, he swept his gaze across the crowd.

  Then, the divine spirit floating in the void lifted his right hand, and a stack of sealed cards appeared in his palm.

  With a single motion, the cards scattered in all directions, each one accurately flying toward a contestant.

  At the same time, Jakeri’s voice rang out again:

  “These cards contain fixed-point teleportation platforms.”

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  “They’re already synced with 1,000 coordinates within the battlefield. You may use them to teleport your followers in and out. Control of the platform is in your hands.”

  “Platforms will be recovered after the competition, so please take care of public property.”

  “Also, make sure to read the usage instructions carefully. Do not attempt to teleport any Monoculi who retain combat power into your own Divine Realm.”

  “If you damage a teleportation platform doing so, you’ll be held responsible for full compensation.”

  William caught the card that floated toward him and immediately scanned it with his divine sense.

  In addition to the platform itself, he instantly received a block of information: a user manual and a list of 1,000 teleportation coordinates.

  His expression changed instantly—like someone suffering from constipation.

  Because according to the manual, each activation of the teleportation platform required 1 million units of divine power.

  And the platform only came with enough energy for one deployment and one retrieval.

  William didn’t even have 100,000 divine power on him right now, let alone a million.

  He wasn’t alone. Many other contestants also wore grim expressions after receiving the sealed card.

  It seemed that quite a few of them, like William, were flat broke—and could only rely on the default one-time use of the platform.

  One chance to send in followers. One chance to pull them back out.

  It felt painfully limiting.

  Before William could dwell on the thought, the referee’s voice rang out again:

  “I hereby declare the start of the competition.”

  Without any dramatic flair, Jakeri and the two assistant referees returned to their respective Divine Realms.

  The battlefield, once surrounded and concealed by their realms, was now fully exposed to the contestants.

  Yet none of them moved.

  Instead, they silently floated in the void, sending out strands of divine sense to monitor each other’s actions.

  The scene quickly sank into tense, eerie silence.

  Though this was the first time anyone had experienced this kind of competition, they were all smart enough to understand the obvious:

  Given the strength levels of the Monoculi as laid out by the chief referee…

  Whoever rushed in first would probably become cannon fodder.

  Their followers would likely serve as live test dummies, revealing valuable information about the battlefield to everyone else.

  As the tension dragged on, a divine sense finally broke the stalemate.

  “Fellow students, since we’ve all passed the qualifications to be here, I trust we’re all fairly intelligent.”

  “It should be clear that whoever sends in a large number of followers first is more likely to be heavily targeted...”

  “...while also providing valuable intel for those who enter later. After all, the barrier of this Divine Realm is semi-transparent.”

  The speaker’s Divine Realm had already moved to the center of the arc formed by the others.

  He wore an elegant white mage’s robe, a golden crown on his head, and a warm, friendly smile on his face as he looked around at the crowd.

  Once everyone’s attention was on him, he continued:

  “I have a proposal. Please hear me out.”

  “Among my followers is a Transcendent-class unit with a profession known as Phantom Assassin—perfect for infiltration and intelligence gathering.”

  “I’m willing to send in 50,000 of these Transcendent followers to scout this world and gather information.”

  “I’ll share all the intel I obtain with you—but of course, I ask for something in return.”

  “Each of you would pay 10,000 divine power for access to the full report.”