Dust and qi from the earlier battles started to settle, and the arena shook with energy. Sharp and metallic, the smell of burned essence hung in the air. After wiping blood from their lips and bowing to the elders, the disciples withdrew to their respective clans. The roar of the crowd had not faded—it grew, feeding on victory, defeat, and the tension between.
High above, the Grey Shadow Hall elder raised his hand once more. His eyes shone with quiet authority, but his face was composed. The chatter abruptly stopped.
"Number Four," he said, his voice resonating like a bell of fate throughout the arena.
Immediately, one figure emerged from each of the five clans. Their fate for the next battle was indicated by the faint glow of their jade cards.
The audience stirred, whispering eagerly. "Number Four already… They are moving fast this year."
"No rest between rounds—Grey Shadow Hall's not holding back."
"Look, that is one from the Walker Clan—another spirit, root level three."
