The third stage of the Great Tournament had finally arrived.
The stage that separated mere survivors from those truly worthy of standing among the strongest candidates of their generation.
The rules were simple.
Fifty platforms.
Fifty position .
Fifty thrones.
Those who occupied them would become their owners.
Those who remained outside would receive only two opportunities to seize a position from another candidate.
Likewise, every owner of a platform would be forced to accept two challenges per day.
No refusals.
No exceptions.
Because in this stage, strength alone was not enough.
One also needed judgment.
One had to choose the right moment to fight.
The right opponent to challenge.
And the right position to defend.
The vast battlefield of the previous stage disappeared.
In its place, fifty platforms emerged throughout the cosmic void.
They were arranged in a perfect line.
Each one carrying a number.
From 1 to 50.
The meaning was obvious.
The lower the number, the greater the prestige.
To occupy the first platform was to announce before the entire universe:
I stand above all others.
The moment the platforms appeared—
silence fell.
No one moved.
For a brief second, every candidate looked toward the others.
Then an unspoken understanding passed between them.
The holders of the greatest special physiques would not fight over ordinary positions.
They would claim the highest seats.
They would determine their rank through speed.
Through confidence.
Through the courage to stand at the summit.
Then—
they moved.
The universe exploded into motion.
Some tore through space.
Some transformed into pure energy.
Some rode storms and shadows.
Some manipulated the laws around them to propel themselves forward.
Yet among all of them—
one existence was untouchable.
A beam of celestial light crossed the battlefield.
Before most candidates had even taken their first step—
Mark was already standing upon Platform One.
The Candidate of the Celestial Light Body
The fastest existence among the competitors.
No one was surprised.
For speed itself was his domain.
A moment later—
space folded.
Time distorted.
A young man appeared on Platform Two.
Daniel.
The candidate of the Space-Time Body.
A body capable of manipulating the fundamental dimensions through which all existence moved.
Only someone capable of rivaling light itself had managed to claim the second throne.
Third.
William.
He did not arrive through speed alone.
His mastery over the connections between things allowed him to remove limitations, choose the most efficient path, and cross the distance with astonishing precision.
He landed on Platform Three with a calm expression.
He had no obsession with the first position.
The number of the platform did not determine the final victor.
Fourth.
A crimson flame burned through the void.
Vladimir stepped onto Platform Four.
His expression was as cold as ever.
A man whose fire could consume even the foundations of space and time.
Then—
a strange scene occurred.
The fifth platform remained empty.
Everyone noticed it.
Every candidate understood.
It was being left for someone.
A terrifying existence who did not possess speed.
An existence who did not need to rush.
Merito.
The candidate of the Eternal Nullified Physique.
Several candidates who could have easily taken the fifth position slowed down.
Not because they feared losing a race.
But because they understood the meaning of provoking him.
The difference between the first five and the rest was already clear.
These were not merely strong candidates.
They were monsters among monsters.
Slowly—
Merito walked forward.
One step.
Then another.
Completely indifferent to the eyes watching him.
Until finally—
he stood upon Platform Five.
The ranking was complete.
The remaining candidates occupied the other platforms.
In only a few moments, all fifty positions were filled.
Instantly, a transparent barrier surrounded every platform.
A law of the tournament itself.
No attack from outside could interfere.
No one could ambush an owner before the challenge began.
Everything became fair.
Everything became official.
The ancient judge appeared once again.
His voice spread across Andimadoria.
"The challenge phase begins."
The atmosphere became tense.
Every remaining candidate looked at the fifty platforms.
The judge raised his hand.
"Who challenges the owner of Platform One?"
Silence.
No one answered.
Even those who possessed great confidence remained quiet.
Everyone understood what it meant to face Mark.
A being who moved as light itself.
The judge waited.
Then asked again.
"Who challenges the owner of Platform Two?"
Silence.
Daniel's control over space and time was enough to make even the proudest geniuses hesitate.
"Platform Three?"
Again—
no answer.
William's display of control over existence itself had convinced many that challenging him without preparation was suicide.
"Platform Four?"
No response.
Vladimir's flame had already burned fear into the minds of many.
"Platform Five?"
Silence.
No one wished to experience the power of absolute nullification.
"Platform Six?"
Again, no challenger.
Then—
"Platform Seven."
A hand was raised.
The owner of the seventh platform was Kashmir.
The Candidate of the Shadow Physique.
His challenger was the Candidate of the Solar Body.
A physique capable of generating explosions with the power of miniature stars.
The battle began.
The moment the solar candidate attacked, blinding explosions filled the battlefield.
The force was enough to shatter planets.
Yet Kashmir did not panic.
The shadows around him expanded.
They wrapped around the explosions themselves.
A strange scene unfolded.
The destructive power of the explosions became imprisoned within the shadows.
The light that should have spread throughout the battlefield disappeared into an endless darkness.
The Solar Candidate's expression changed.
Before he could react—
hundreds of shadow soldiers emerged around him.
They attacked from every direction.
Every attempt to create another explosion was swallowed before it could spread.
The battlefield had become Kashmir's territory.
After a prolonged struggle, the Solar Candidate stepped back.
"I surrender."
The judge announced:
"Platform Seven remains under Kashmir's control."
The challenges continued.
A candidate possessing the Gravity Physique challenged the owner of the Dark Physique.
He attempted to crush him under an unimaginable gravitational field.
Space bent.
The platform cracked.
Even the spectators felt the terrifying pressure.
But darkness consumed the force.
The owner of the Dark Physique transformed the battlefield into a realm where gravity had no absolute authority.
After a long battle, the challenger failed to force him from the platform.
The first round of challenges came to an end.
No platform changed owners.
The judge did not allow anyone time to relax.
"The second round of challenges begins."
Again, his eyes moved toward Platform One.
"Who challenges the first platform?"
Silence.
The same answer.
The same fear.
The same understanding.
The first seven positions remained untouched.
They were mountains no one wished to climb.
But after the seventh position—
everything changed.
The candidates began moving.
Challenges erupted one after another.
Unlike the monsters at the summit, the lower positions were seen as attainable.
Battles filled the arena.
Screams.
Explosions.
Broken laws.
Colliding energies.
The struggle continued until the end of the second challenge round.
When the dust settled—
five owners had been thrown from their platforms.
Their opportunities were exhausted.
Their journey in the Great Tournament had ended.
The remaining forty-five kept their seats.
And the fifty thrones had already begun to reveal a cruel truth.
There were ranks even among monsters.
And the higher one climbed—
the more impossible the mountain became.