Ahead, the streets were overflowing with people—thousands of dwarves, humans, elves, and demons pouring out of the arena after the grand final. It was chaos.
The system's cold glow pulsed again before his eyes:
[Time limit: 12 minutes, 15 seconds.]
The seconds gnawed at his mind.
"Noel Thorne!" someone shouted from the crowd. Others picked it up, chanting his name, reaching out as if to touch the champion who had just fought in the final. Their cheers were deafening, but to Noel they were only obstacles.
He shoved his way forward, shoulder slamming through gaps in the packed bodies. "Move!" His voice was swallowed by the roar of the masses.
Selene advanced silently at his side. With a flick of her wrist, subtle gravitational waves pressed outward, shifting the flow of the crowd just enough to clear a path without drawing suspicion. People stumbled aside, cursing, but none realized what had pushed them.
