Seris Vale sat at the head of the table, silver hair catching the lamplight, eyes sharp as cut glass.
Around her, the Crimson Fang gathered—five fighters who'd carved their reputation through precision, discipline, and an unblemished record.
Eight wins. Zero losses.
Not because they were the strongest squad in Vester.
But because they were the smartest.
"Sunshine Squad," Seris said, voice calm, measured. "Tomorrow. Arena Three."
She tapped a finger on the table where a dossier lay open—notes, observations, tactical assessments compiled from every fight the Sunshine Squad had participated in.
"What do we know?" asked Krin, the squad's second-in-command—a lean man with a scar across his jaw and a talent for reading opponents.
"They're from Grim Hollow," Seris replied. "Survivors of the evacuation. That means they've seen real combat. Real chaos. Not just some arena matches."
"That makes them a bit tough to handle," said Mira, the squad's ranged specialist.
