"Okay… but should I know what this is?"
The part where Sinfonia took me was a more distant corner of the enormous hall.
There existed what looked like an enormous display panel — the kind of system that shows flight arrivals and departures at airports. Except that, in place of planes and schedules, what that panel displayed were names. Many names. And, linked to each of them, quantities of what I supposed to be nectar stones.
"What do you mean you don't know the betting system?"
She looked at me as though I had said I didn't know my own hand.
"You're very different… I mean. Well. What you're seeing is a betting system linked to the events and missions that exist, both in the Colosseum and at the gates. This is where most non-nobles manage to get some kind of income. It works like this…"
It was nearly twenty minutes of explanation.
And by the end of them, a lot became clear — including the reason she was so excited and why she had been so surprised by my ignorance. That place was known by practically every human who went to the Oasis. I was the anomaly.
✦ ✦ ✦
The logic behind the system was more ingenious than it seemed at first glance.
Over time, the human territories had become relatively safe — turbulent borders, yes, but with controlled internal areas. And that had helped and hindered the Lords at the same time. Helped because, past a certain point, the kingdoms only suffered losses to other races, and no longer to the environment. A strong kingdom could have enough units to handle almost any creature. And there even existed kingdoms that were born already protected by older neighboring kingdoms, which did the work of filtering against external threats.
But that protection had an invisible cost.
Because without enemies wearing down the territory — and, therefore, without the prizes that came from repelling them — the protected Lords were left without sources of income. What remained for them was to allow the entry of ex-Lords into their own territories and profit from the Colosseum, something many nobles did with ease. But for those who weren't nobles, for those who had neither structure nor influence, that path was complicated.
And that was where the betting panel came in.
That was the main resource for those who had no support. A place where one could bet on almost anything involving the missions of others. And the most important detail: the bets almost always paid something, even if little — because, most of the time, there existed the counterpart of the Oasis itself. It was as though the system understood that there were players who, without that, would have no other form of income. It was the safety net of a world that didn't usually offer safety nets.
"Strange for the Oasis to provide the counterpart of the bets. I mean… doesn't that end up making it too easy to earn capital?"
"That's an excellent question."
She answered with the authority of someone speaking from her own experience.
"Unfortunately, as an active user of the system, I can guarantee you that, despite being an acceptable source of income, it serves for little more than to exist. Most people treat it as a minimal income — something to keep on their feet until a big opportunity appears."
It made sense.
The Oasis understood that, if it didn't offer some kind of income, the few rookies who lodged in the protected interior of a kingdom would go through an inevitable bottleneck of strength. Without enemies to fight, without prizes to collect, without growth — they would be pushed toward one of two exits: abandon the Oasis, or fight against their own race. The betting panel was the third option. The one that kept people in the game.
It was a clever way of keeping the carrot close enough for the rabbit to keep running — but never close enough for it to reach.
✦ ✦ ✦
And it was thinking about that mechanic that an idea formed in my head.
"So, if what you said is correct, it's possible to make a bet on myself. Since the Oasis will always provide the counterpart. Correct?"
Sinfonia brought her hand to her face.
For an instant the idea seemed new even to her — but her intelligence worked fast, and soon the problem became evident.
"The idea is good, but I don't think it would work. The Oasis has restrictions regarding the bets you generate yourself. Especially in relation to difficulty."
It made sense.
If it were possible to bet freely on yourself, it would be an obvious abuse of the system. Anyone would create absurdly easy bets, or enter bets about to be won, just to maximize the profit guaranteed by the counterpart. The Oasis wouldn't leave such a large loophole open.
"I understand. But if, for example, I wanted to participate in the battle of kingdoms event… and bet on myself. Could I?"
The small one was surprised by the question.
And she wasn't the only one. Some laughs sounded around me — from people I knew were listening, but who I hadn't imagined were so interested in what I was saying.
"Look at this idiot… he wants to participate in the battle of kingdoms."
"He'll die before managing to do anything."
"Forget that, you fool. Unless you want to die young."
The murmur grew.
Some people seemed genuinely concerned. Most just found the absurdity of what I had said amusing. But none of them interested me — what I wanted was information about probabilities, and there was only one person there capable of giving me that. And she was right in front of me, thinking.
"Well… honestly, what you're saying is very crazy. Especially coming from a rookie. But, speaking of possibility… yes. It's possible. Only I would strongly recommend that you forget that idea."
"And is there any reason for me to forget it?"
Instead of answering, she pointed to a specific part of the panel.
Where there were many names, there was also a blank section. Empty. As though nothing had ever been registered there.
"Do you see that part?"
"Yes. What does it mean?"
"As you must already know, the battle between races has two types of event — the individual battles and the kingdom battles. The upper part, full of names, are the bets of the individual battles. The lower part is the kingdoms one. And do you know why the lower one is empty?"
It was a good question.
I knew the individual battles began with a qualifier among humans, and only afterward leveled up to combat against other races. The Oasis made a point of leveling the confrontations between species for a reason that had never become entirely clear — but that seemed to be a way of reducing deaths, since, when the individual fights reached confrontation between races, the mortality rate bordered on a hundred percent.
"Actually, thinking about it that way, I have no idea. Could it be because the fights are more costly?"
The small one brought her hand to her face again, analyzing my answer. Then shook her head.
"That might be part of the reason. But the main one is that, for some reason, the battle of kingdoms doesn't allow combat between members of the same race from the start."
That caught me by surprise.
The individual battles had a solid and comprehensible logic. But it was strange that the same rule didn't apply to the battle of kingdoms — that it worked in exactly the opposite way. My face must have given away the confusion, because she continued.
"Honestly, there have already been some attempts by humans in this event. But most were meager, to say the least. And there's a cruel detail: unlike the battle between races, in which a simple unconsciousness can end the combat…"
She paused.
"In the battle of kingdoms, only the death of the Lord ends the battle."
That was shocking.
Because it meant that the punishment for whoever entered unprepared was the maximum. There was no giving up. There was no surrendering. There was no merciful blackout that spared a life in the individual fight. Everything that involved the kingdom was extreme in a way that the individual wasn't — as though the Oasis had completely different intentions for the two events. One tested the warrior. The other consumed the king.
"Honestly, even after years watching this event, I still don't understand the reason for that difference. And since we don't have humans participating, we can't even bet on it — despite it being the event almost all the races most look forward to."
It made sense.
With such a difficult and punishing challenge, the prize couldn't be any different. It was the event that stopped all the races of the universe — all, except the human one.
Exactly what I needed.
✦ ✦ ✦
"But then, if I participate in this event, I can bet whatever I want. And I would still have the counterpart of the Oasis."
While I said that seriously, the ironic smiles around me fell silent.
The people — and even Sinfonia — suddenly became more serious. There was something shocking in the fact that, even after hearing everything terrible that event involved, I was still interested. The question was stamped on every face even before it was asked by Sinfonia.
"Do you have a desire to kill yourself?"
I had no way to answer that honestly.
How would I explain to her that I was certain that would be an event in which I would have an advantage? That I didn't just want to participate, but to be among the top ten? That every word that seemed like madness to her was, in my head, a carefully calculated plan? There was no way. So I retreated.
"Everything I'm doing is a theoretical question. Honestly, I wouldn't be capable of doing that."
I let out a childish smile, accompanied by a calm breath.
And that sealed the matter. The small one, before serious and suspicious, smiled back — relieved, like someone confirming they had heard only something too crazy to be taken seriously.
"Anyway, wait a bit. I'm going to place my little bet."
✦ ✦ ✦
Before she moved away, I asked to accompany her.
I needed to understand, in practice, how that worked.
Sinfonia approached what seemed to be a counter operated by a kind of robot. There, she made the bet — and made a point of speaking out loud, in a didactic way, so that I could follow each step. But I noticed that other people beside her managed to do the same without saying a word. It was enough to choose what one wanted to bet and how many stones to place. It was possible to bet almost anything — even items.
But there was an important subtlety.
From what I understood, the larger the bet, the more the Oasis increased the difficulty of the bet event. There existed a fine line between choosing the winner and betting too much — betting so much that, ironically, it harmed the favorite itself. That line depended on countless factors, most of them unknown to me. But it was clear that Sinfonia had experience. She seemed to do the calculation in her head, always opting for safer bets, related to low and medium levels of difficulty.
"Done. Let's go to the next place."
Before we continued, I was curious about something she had mentioned.
From the experience she demonstrated, from the naturalness with which she did all of that, I already suspected the answer.
"Are you also a Lord?"
She turned to me, with something of a turned-up nose.
"Yes. And I'm one of the most successful in the central kingdom. Unfortunately, as you must suspect, I was born protected by other Lords who facilitated my survival in the difficult parts — but who, in exchange, obligated me to do this here. In the end, I'm like you. With great pride."
And I agreed.
Someone who managed to go through half of what I had been through — without real support, with a kingdom that didn't have half the advantages I had built — was, indeed, a winner. There were those who belittled the ones sent to the human central kingdom, thinking they had everything made easy. But even there, the difficulty of the first days was real. And the Purge spared no one. She had survived all of that, and had every right to feel proud of it.
✦ ✦ ✦
"Very well. We've arrived. This is the place where most focus their bets. We call it the Gate."
In front of me, several gates.
Rounded. Black. Of a black so dense it seemed to swallow the light around — the same kind of darkness I had noticed before, from afar, without understanding. Up close, it was worse. Just looking at them, something in my blood ran cold, as though a primitive part of me recognized a threat the mind still couldn't name.
"What are these Gates for?"
She looked at me. Then at the gates.
And for the first time since we met, there was something nervous and anxious in her expression.
"For those who are strong, they're a way to obtain riches."
A pause.
"For the unprepared and weak… a graveyard."