It had been an hour since all partakers of the Test of Fang had taken their vials. Within the towering marble pavilions of Aetherthorn, every spectator sat with bated breath around the vast, long-distance viewing circle. Dozens of translucent magical screens hovered in the air, each relaying the live feed from across the forest.
From these floating displays, they could clearly see how the Goldhair carriers had placed the participants deep within the heart of the Runewood—far from their native soil and anything familiar.
To understand the gravity of the event, one must know the scale of the Runewood.
It spanned a staggering one million square kilometers—roughly the size of Egypt, if one were to compare it to Earth. But unlike the sunbaked sands of the desert, Runewood was a sprawling megaforest—a mystical labyrinth of ancient trees older than kingdoms.
Filled with forgotten ruins swallowed by moss and time, and untamed biomes where the air itself seemed to whistle with secrets.
