The arena was a hollow ring of stone and heat, lit by torches and lined with velvet-draped balconies. Blood stained the sand in several places—some of it still fresh from the last fight.
As Noel stepped into view, descending the narrow stairs in his dark green uniform and his green mask, the murmurs began.
"Is that the next one? Isn't he very skinny??"
"He doesn't look like someone who knows how to fight, he seems softer than the last one."
"Anonymous? Who does he think he is, a superstar? Show your face so you can see it, cheap kid."
Dozens of masked guests leaned forward, drinks in hand, whispering behind fans or gesturing toward the pit. Above them, the mana-lamps dimmed slightly—focusing attention on the two figures below.
Bone Crusher was already waiting.
