As the sun dipped low in the sky, painting the heavens with hues of crimson and gold, the grand gong rang.
BOOOOM!
All 10,000 participants rushed into the base of the pagoda, their eyes fixed on the magnificent structure that looked less like a tower and more like a living deity.
With a roar of enthusiasm, thousands dashed forward like a tidal wave of ambition. Spells were flung, weapons unsheathed, and formations broken as eager disciples began attacking each other in desperation.
"Make way! Make way!"
"Wind Cutter Slash!"
"Thunder Step! Move aside, fools!"
Within moments, bodies tumbled, groans of pain filled the air, and illusions shattered as those with poor luck became meat shields.
Amidst the chaos, about a thousand disciples stood perfectly still at the base without entering inside.
And at the center of them stood Kent King also. His arms folded, expression serene, the beast-skin cloak he wore fluttered gently as if mocking the storm around him.
