The battlefield faded into darkness, and the contestants found themselves standing on the grand main stage. The atmosphere was electric, with anticipation buzzing among the crowd. The host, as lively as ever, stepped forward, his voice amplified to reach every corner of the colossal arena.
"Ladies and gentlemen!" he began, a gleam of excitement in his eyes. "The first stage has concluded, and what a stage it was! Strategy, teamwork, and sheer ingenuity were on full display. Let's hear it for our contestants!"
The crowd erupted into applause, cheers echoing across the arena. The host waited for the noise to subside before continuing. "Now, let me announce our top contestants!" He gestured toward a massive screen that lit up behind him, displaying the leaderboard.
Ned's team, led by Reena, occupied the top spot, their names shining brightly. Whispers rippled through the audience as everyone acknowledged the unlikely victors who had outsmarted some of the strongest teams. Even Surfer and Allen, seated among the crowd, couldn't help but be impressed.
"The second stage," the host declared, "will separate the sharp-eyed from the rest! It's time for the Betting Grounds."
The audience leaned forward in their seats, intrigued. The host explained with dramatic flair, "In this stage, the battlefield will showcase legendary warriors from the Age of Cataclysm, engaged in battle simulations so realistic that you'll feel like you've been transported to the past! Contestants, your task is simple: place your bets on who will emerge victorious."
The contestants murmured among themselves, excitement and apprehension in equal measure.
"Your betting currency," the host continued, "are the points you earned in the first stage. At the end of this round, the top 32 will proceed to the final tournament. But remember, this is not just about gambling—it's a test of your observation, analytical skills, and ability to learn from history."
The crowd cheered again as the rules became clear. Then, with a dramatic flourish, the host gestured, and the contestants were transported to the new stage.
The Betting Grounds were magnificent. The arena resembled a vast gladiatorial coliseum, its center occupied by a circular battlefield. The contestants were seated in luxurious booths surrounding the arena, each equipped with a sleek betting machine. From their elevated vantage points, they had a clear view of the battlefield below.
Ned glanced at the machine in front of him, noting his account balance. The total points from the first stage had been equally divided among his team, leaving him with a respectable amount.
This round, he realized, was a golden opportunity—not just to advance but to utilize his talent, Spectator's Insight. Observing the greatest warriors from history and potentially mimicking their skills was an unparalleled chance for growth.
As he scanned the crowd, he spotted a familiar face approaching.
"Parth?" Ned said, surprised.
His older brother, Parth, gave him a small smile. "Looks like we're in this together." Parth took a seat beside Ned, his demeanor calm and collected.
Ned couldn't hide his relief. Parth was the most brilliant strategist he knew. With his help, the odds of advancing to the next stage had just skyrocketed.
"Glad you're here," Ned said sincerely, placing a hand on Parth's shoulder.
Parth nodded. "Let's focus. This is going to be interesting."
The host's voice echoed across the arena. "Ladies and gentlemen, let the second stage begin!"
The battlefield below shimmered as holographic projectors activated, and the ground transformed into a watery arena, complete with shallow pools and cascading streams. At each end of the field, glowing portals flickered to life.
"And now, our first match-up!" the host announced.
The first portal materialized into a towering figure clad in crimson armor, a long spear crackling with electricity in his hands. "Doran Forester!" the host proclaimed. "The first king of the Nexus Kingdom and the original wielder of the legendary Red Thunder talent!"
The crowd erupted into cheers, many standing to honor the revered historical figure. Ned's heart sank slightly at the sight of his ancestor, whose talent was the same one that had led to his banishment.
On the other side, the second portal shimmered, revealing a much smaller figure. He had a wiry frame and carried a peculiar toolbelt filled with hammers and chisels. "And his opponent, Steve the Crafter! One of the first members of the Riftkind, wielding the unique Minecraft talent!"
The audience's reaction was more subdued, many unsure of who this second figure was. But a few scholars and historians in the crowd nodded in recognition, murmuring about Steve's legendary versatility.
The host explained the ground rules and opened the betting. "Place your bets, contestants! Learn from these legends, and may the odds be in your favor!"
Ned activated Spectator's Insight, but to his dismay, it returned nothing. "They're just simulations," he muttered, frustrated.
Parth, however, was already deep in thought, his eyes scanning the arena. "Bet on Steve," he said firmly.
Ned blinked, surprised. "What? Why? Doran's one of the strongest warriors in history, and this is a water arena. Thunder has an advantage here."
Parth smirked. "Think about it. Steve's body is made from materials similar to rubber and wood, both excellent insulators. And the Minecraft talent isn't just about crafting; it's about adaptability. Steve can build defenses faster than Doran can attack."
As Parth elaborated, painting a vivid picture of how the fight might unfold, Ned couldn't help but be impressed. His brother's reasoning was flawless, and he trusted him implicitly. Without hesitation, he placed all his points on Steve.
Parth noticed the transaction and frowned. "How much did you bet?"
Ned grinned. "All in."
Parth's eyes widened. "You're insane! Even if I'm confident, there's always a risk. I only bet 50% of my points."
Ned shrugged. "I trust you."
Parth sighed, shaking his head. "You'd better hope I'm right."