Grand Olympia: Further Horizon - Chapter 3: Rules
The void was endless—a vast expanse of pure white, stretching beyond comprehension. Yet, amidst this emptiness, there was one thing that stood out.
The Watcher.
Its radiant form hovered at the center of them all, a sphere of light that pulsed softly, its presence both otherworldly and serene. Despite its lack of physical features, its very existence exuded a strange gracefulness, as if it carried an ancient wisdom beyond mortal understanding.
And yet, the most unsettling part was how calm it made them feel.
No fear. No tension. Just… an unnatural peace.
Even the most hardened person among them—felt it in their bones. A soothing presence, like a silent whisper telling them everything was as it should be.
But not everyone was affected the same way.
The Watcher's voice resonated through the void, ethereal and deliberate.
"I thank you all for accepting my invitation. Some of you seem to have already acquainted yourselves. Now, let us begin the presentation for the events to come."
But before the Watcher could continue, one individual had already lost patience. A sharp gust of wind cut through the stillness as the beautiful woman launched herself forward, moving faster than most could react. With a single powerful leap, she soared several meters into the air, her fist clenched, her muscles coiled like a spring.
And then—
She struck.
Her punch aimed directly at the Watcher, a fearless display of raw defiance. But it failed spectacularly. The moment her fist connected, it simply phased through—passing into the Watcher's radiant form without resistance. For a brief second, it was as if she had punched air itself.
Then, just as effortlessly, she landed back on the smooth, pristine floor—her breathing steady, her stance unwavering, as if the attempt had taken nothing from her. The entire group stood in stunned silence.
Billy the Kid's eyebrow twitched, a slow grin creeping up his face as he watched the scene unfold. Miyamoto Musashi remained still, his sharp eyes absorbing every detail of the interaction. The others? They were too busy trying to comprehend what the hell just happened.
"Did she just—"
"Did she just try to punch the Watcher?!"
"Was she insane?"
The Watcher—a being capable of bending reality itself—had spoken barely a few sentences, and she had already attacked it. She's crazy.
Billy the Kid laughed suddenly, loud and unrestrained.
"Hah! Get that piece of sh*t!!" he hollered, clearly enjoying the show.
Then—
A brilliant arc of electricity surged from the Watcher's form, crackling through the air like a divine judgment before it struck the beautiful lady dead on.
A single moment of pure light and sound. Her body convulsed, her muscles locking up instantly as the electricity coursed through her. Her teeth gritted as she absorbed the impact, her body refusing to crumble despite the overwhelming force.
Then—she dropped. Her form hit the ground, but she did not collapse entirely—she caught herself at the last second, kneeling, her breath ragged but controlled.
The Watcher pulsed softly. Its voice remained as calm as ever, utterly unfazed by what had just transpired.
"Miss Fu Hao, I hope you will behave for the remainder of the presentation."
A simple statement—neither angry nor condescending. Yet, something in its tone carried an undeniable finality.
Billy the Kid let out a low whistle, shaking his head.
"Damn, she actually tried it." He grinned, having his hands back of his head.
"What a goddamn idiot."
Miyamoto Musashi, however, saw something different. His eyes narrowed slightly, watching Fu Hao carefully.
"She reacted before the lightning even hit her…"
It was subtle, but he had noticed it. The slight shift in her body, the way she tense her muscles a fraction of a second early, preparing to absorb the impact.
This wasn't recklessness. That was instinct. Fu Hao had anticipated the counterattack, even if she hadn't been able to dodge it.
"Impressive. But still—what had she been expecting?
Surely, she must have known that attacking something like the Watcher was pointless. Unless…
"Was she testing it?"
Miyamoto Musashi's thoughts were interrupted as the Watcher spoke again.
Its tone remained unchanged—detached, unwavering. Yet there was something in its words that felt… off.
"Attempting to harm me does not warrant severe punishment."
The way it phrased it—not warranting further punishment—implied something else.
That it could punish them. That it had a limit to its patience. And more importantly—That if it wanted to, it could end them all instantly.
A quiet tension settled over the group. Fu Hao, still kneeling, gritted her teeth, flexing her fingers to shake off the lingering numbness. But despite her failure, she did not look ashamed. If anything… She looked satisfied.
Billy sighed dramatically. "Alright, so we ain't punchin' the god-orb. Lesson learned. Can we get to the part where you explain the situation now?"
The Watcher pulsed again.
"Yes. Now… let us begin."
Without warning, a massive projector screen materialized above them, its presence sudden and unnatural. The screen flickered for a moment before stabilizing, displaying an intricate, three-layered flat world.
Each layer was distinct, its size decreasing as it ascended—a vast bottom layer, a medium-sized middle, and a smaller topmost stage.
The bottom layer showcased a dense forest stretching along the coastline, where the lush greenery met the deep blue sea. Rivers wove through the landscape, and towering trees cast long shadows over the terrain. The sheer size of it suggested it would be the largest of all stages.
The middle layer consisted entirely of small islands, scattered across what seemed to be an endless ocean. Some were barely large enough to stand on, while others housed ruins and structures, hinting at ancient civilizations long lost. The waters between them carried a mysterious depth, hiding unseen dangers below.
The top layer was perhaps the most surreal—a realm of floating islands, suspended in the sky like fragments of a shattered world. The islands varied in size, some connected by natural bridges of rock and chains, others left isolated, forcing the group to find ways to leap or cross through the air. The Watcher's voice resonated through the void, guiding their attention to the display.
"This is the location of your battlefield."
The words, though calm, carried an unshakable weight. The battlefield was not just a place—it was a challenge.
The Watcher continued, its tone unwavering.
"Each stage corresponds to a natural environment, though certain modifications have been made."
There was something unsettling about the way it said "modifications."
"Each stage is also inhabited by creatures… monsters… that are natural to their respective environments."
A few in the group tensed at this revelation.
This was not just a test of skill against one another—it was a battle against the very world itself. The screen shifted, highlighting three golden fragments, each shaped like a part of a circular medallion.
"Your goal is simple: to reach the top. Each of you must collect three pieces of gold, which, when assembled into a full circular shape, will grant you access to the next stage."
Billy the Kid let out a low whistle.
"So, we're not just fightin' for survival—we gotta find these things too?"
The Watcher pulsed.
"Correct. Only those who obtain their full medallion will advance."
Miyamoto Musashi crossed his arms, his mind already working through the strategy.
"It's not simple at all. This forces us into confrontation. Only by tracking the gold thing or whatever it is not much easier and while trying to survive the trials of each land. Will we be able to progress?"
This implication was clear—not all of them would make it to the top.
"Once you have completed your trial, you will receive your reward. For the chance of a new life."
A silence settled over the group as the realization sank in. This was not just a battle. This was a war for survival. The massive projection screen remained suspended above them, displaying the field in intricate detail. The Watcher's voice still lingered in the air, its presence a silent force looming over them.
As the group absorbed the information, a handsome man stepped forward, his silver-white hair swaying slightly as he studied the screen with sharp, discerning eyes.
"So… this is the trial." His voice was quiet, but there was a certain weight behind his words.
He let out a thoughtful exhale. "I can already guess that we can easily die in this place… but I have a question."
He turned to face the Watcher directly. "When we enter, where do we enter?"
The Watcher pulsed faintly before answering.
"Your group will be placed randomly within the first layer. I should also mention that each floor is divided into four quadrants—North, South, East, and West. After collecting your gold medallion pieces, you must find a gate that will allow you to advance to the next level."
Billy the Kid raised an eyebrow, tilting his head. "Hold up. 'Group'? What's that supposed to mean?"
The Watcher responded without hesitation.
"Correct. A total of 18 participants have been gathered. You have been divided into three groups. However, you are not required to work together—though it is highly recommended."
Billy the Kid let out a dry laugh. "Heh, so we don't have to trust each other, but we might need to?"
"That is for you to decide."
At that moment, Billy the Kid crossed his hand back of his head, an almost mischievous smile playing on his lips.
"Well, whether we work together or not, we should at least introduce ourselves, don't you think?"
Miyamoto Musashi glanced at him, immediately recognizing the strategic move behind his words.
"He's gathering information on us."
The handsome man had a similar thought.
"A calculated move, but I see nothing malicious in it. Still… if he knows of me, this could be interesting."
Coincidentally, many of them shared the same thought but didn't object.
Fu Hao smirked. "Since you're the one asking, why don't you go first?"
Billy the Kid let out an exaggerated sigh. "Well, sh*t. Guess I gotta set an example."
He threw his hands behind his head, grinning. "People call me Billy the Kid. I was your typical outlaw in the Wild West—pretty famous, too."
His grin widened. "Killed some tards, got chased by the law, had a good time doing it. Now you lot turn!"
The room fell silent. Miyamoto Musashi simply crossed his arms.
"I am Miyamoto Musashi. I am a swordsman from Japan. That is all."
Billy the Kid blinked before bursting into laughter. "Wow, what a storyteller!"
Miyamoto Musashi's gaze darkened. "I'll rip your mouth off your face if you keep talking."
Billy the Kid held up his hands. "Alright, alright, no need for murder… yet."
Another voice spoke, calm and composed.
"I am Jeanne d'Arc, from Domrémy-la-Pucelle, France. I was sent by God sword lord Michael to end the Hundred Years' War between the British and the French. I later perished in that war unfulfilled" She bowed her head slightly. "It is a pleasure to meet you all."
The silver-haired man suddenly stiffened. His heterochromatic eyes widened in surprise.
"Jeanne d'Arc?"
She turned toward him, curious. "Y-You know of me?"
He nodded. "Of course. You were highly respected. After your death or i suppose to say your near death you became the saint of the church"
Jeanne d'Arc eyes widened in disbelief. "A… a saint?"
The others exchanged confused glances.
Fu Hao scoffed. "Well, if we're doing this, I might as well go next!" She took a step forward, placing a fist on her hip.
"I am Fu Hao, queen and general of the Shang Kingdom! I served His Majesty, my great husband Wu Ding, and led armies to countless victories!"
Billy the Kid whistled. "Whoa, royalty! Never thought I'd meet one!"
Fu Hao smirked proudly. "That's right! You should all bow before me and show respect!"
Miyamoto Musashi let out a small snort. "Heh. If you were that important, why haven't I heard of you before?"
Fu Hao's smile instantly vanished. Her eyes blazed with fury.
"What did you just say, you bastard?! Are you insulting my kingdom and His Majesty?!"
Miyamoto Musashi met her glare with an apathetic stare.
Billy the kid nudged Jeanne d'Ark. "And there they go."
Jeanne tries to stop from escalating. A new voice cut through the air.
"If you don't mind, I will introduce myself next."
The room went silent as the silver-haired man took a step forward. His posture was straight, regal, and commanding.
"I am George Washington, the first President of the United States of America. I led my people in the fight against the British during the Revolutionary War."
Billy's jaw dropped. "Holy sh*t. You're George Washington?!"
George Washington let out a small chuckle. "It seems I am well known."
Billy the Kid straightened up immediately. "No sh*t you are! Oh—uh—sorry, Mr. President."
Fu Hao fumed. "And why am I not treated with admiration?!"
Miyamoto Musashi smirked. "Look how fast he changed. Doing a 180."
Billy the Kid glared at him. "Hey, it's different! This is freakin' George Washington!"
Fu Hao muttered under her breath. "Hmph. I'll remember this."
Billy the Kid turned back to the group. "Well, that seems like everyone. Are we missing anyone?"
They all turned toward the huge man, still seated on the floor, arms crossed, eyes closed. Sleeping.
Billy the Kid scratched his head. "Should we wake him up?"
George Washington shook his head. "Let us not bother, our time is precious. We can't be careless, we should focus on surviving."
George Washington turned to the Watcher. "Do we need to be in groups to advance?"
The Watcher pulsed.
"As I have stated before, each of you must attain a complete piece of the medallion. How you choose to do so is entirely up to you."
Miyamoto Musashi narrowed his eyes. Each of them knew what that meant. They would all have to fight each other eventually.
Fu Hao sighed. "Another question—where are the other participants?"
"You are the first group I have summoned. The others will be arriving soon."
Billy the Kid groaned. "What? We have to wait?"
Fu Hao crossed her arms. "God dammit. Let's just get this over with."
Miyamoto Musashi smirked. "A foolish person rushes to die. A wise person waits for the right opportunity."
Fu Hao's eyes twitched. "What the hell does that mean, you bastard?!"
Miyamoto Musashi smirked. "Just stating the obvious."
The two glared at each other, invisible sparks flying between them while Jeanne d'Arc tried to calm them down.
Billy the Kid just laughed.
"Alright, alright. One last question—these creatures in the area. What are they?"
The Watcher pulsed again.
"That is for you to discover."
An intense silence overcame them.
"Are they strong?" Jeanne d'Arc asked worriedly.
"Some. Not all."
Miyamoto Musashi grinned. "Good."
Billy the Kid and Fu Hao sighed in unison. "You're a battle-obsessed idiot."
Miyamoto Musashi's eyes twitched. "The hell did you just say?"
The conversation was cut short when a sudden shift in the air. It was subtle—so subtle that none of them had noticed it at first. But the moment the huge man stood, the void itself seemed to react.
The atmosphere, once neutral and empty, now felt heavier, darker, suffocating. The others watched in silence as the towering figure slowly turned, his massive frame moving with deliberate ease. Each step he took echoed through the soundless space, as if he carried the weight of an entire battlefield with him.
The man's sheer presence dominated the void, his tribal tattoos gleaming under the Watcher's glow, his golden jewelry reflecting the faint pulses of light. His long, unkempt onyx hair framed a face of pure stone-cold resolve—a warrior who had seen countless wars and emerged victorious each time.
Then, at last, he came to a stop. And faced the Watcher. The others stood frozen, instinctively bracing themselves—though for what, they did not know. Then, he finally spoke. His voice was deep, steady, carrying a weight far heavier than mere words.
"I have a question."
Then, Lapulapu spoke the words that should not have been asked.
"What is your true purpose in creating this grand event?"
A silence so absolute, so suffocating, that it felt as though the entire universe had stopped breathing. The moment the words left his lips, a cold shudder ran through the group.
The air turned frigid, and for the first time, the endless white void felt small—as if it were suddenly closing in on them.
Billy the Kid instinctively placed a hand on his empty holster, though he knew it was useless action. Jeanne d'Arc fingers twitched slightly, gripping the hem of her cloak. Miyamoto Musashi's eyes sharpened, his battle instincts screaming at him—danger. Fu Hao, arms crossed, let out a quiet exhale. Even George Washington, usually composed, felt it—a shift in the Watcher's presence.
Jeanne d'Arc felt her heartbeat slow. George Washington furrowed his brow. Billy the Kid's usual grin vanished completely. Miyamoto Musashi remained still, but deep inside, something primal told him that this was not just another battle. Fu Hao's sense of danger is alarming at a rapid rate.
And then—
The Watcher reacted. The sphere of light, which had remained calm, serene, almost comforting, suddenly dimmed. Then, it pulsed.
Once.
Twice.
The light flickered erratically, shifting from its pure white glow to something… darker. For the first time, it felt like the Watcher was no longer an observer.
It was aware.
Watching.
Studying.
Then, it spoke. And its voice—cold, detached, devoid of warmth—pierced into their very souls.
"Simple."
Fu Hao took an involuntary step back. Jeanne d'Arc fingers clenched. George Washington inhaled sharply, his instincts telling him this was beyond anything he'd faced before. Musashi's body remained still, but deep inside, something about this moment reminded him of standing before an opponent far beyond his level.
Billy the Kid swallowed. "Sh*t."
Then, the Watcher spoke again.
And this time, it was worse.
"I wish to see something."
A single, haunting sentence. No elaboration. No details. Just that. And that alone was enough. Because somehow, they all understood. This was not a mere game. This was not just a test. This was a spectacle.
A performance for something beyond their comprehension. And they were not just participants. They were entertainment. A cruel realization sank into their bones, chilling them from the inside out.
Miyamoto Musashi closed his eyes for a moment, processing the words carefully.
"It does not seek victory. Nor power. Nor survival."
"It only seeks to watch."
Billy the Kid let out a quiet breath. "Well, f*ck me sideways."
Jeanne d'Arc swallowed hard, forcing herself to regain composure. "This isn't just a trial… is it? Was I tempted by the devil? If so, may the lord forgive me."
The Watcher did not respond.
And that, in itself, was the answer. The tension hung over them, suffocating. No one dared to break the silence. No one except the one man who had asked the question in the first place. Lapulapu turned slightly, his white eyes surveying the group. Then, he simply nodded.
"I see."
His voice was steady, unwavering—as if he had already accepted whatever truth lay behind the Watcher's words.
Then, slowly, he exhaled. The suffocating weight in the air began to lessen, the Watcher's pulsing light returning to its original state. And with that, Lapulapu faced the group, as if nothing had happened at all.
"Then… when do we begin?"
Silence.
And just like that, the tension was shattered. The others let out quiet exhales, some realizing only now that they had been holding their breath. But before anyone could respond, Lapulapu spoke once more.
"Oh, and apologies for the late introduction."
His massive frame cast a shadow over the group as he straightened his posture, his presence undeniable.
"My name is Lapulapu."
A warrior.
A man who had once stood against an empire.
And now, he would stand against whatever this trial had in store.