Arzael's gaze swept across the colossal arena, now growing denser with examinees. Thousands of faces, human, elf, dwarf, and other races, were spread across the vast field, each displaying different expressions.
faint fear, burning determination, blazing spirit, and even obvious confusion on some younger faces. Each participant was a story, a possibility. And Arzael? He remained silent, judging with his crimson eyes that seemed to pierce straight into the core of their souls.
Beside him, Seraphina stood calmly, her long white hair cascading gently, partially covering her pale face, yet her eyes remained alert. Arzael's other companions were still observing the arena and other participants, as if searching for strategic positions or merely trying to absorb the blazing atmosphere.
Suddenly, Lena stared at Arzael seriously, her lips tightening slightly. "Stay close to the princess," she said, her voice firm but laced with worry.
