Crownspire Arena roared to the heavens.
What a sweet, sweet treat! A worthy main course after an appetizer match.
While the crowd's interest in Daru lay not in his strength but in his qualifying for a spot despite his oddly low rank, their anticipation to see him in action was no less than their excitement watching the top-rankers showcase their might.
His back was as straight as a jian's blade, and his face an unexpected mirror of a still lake.
Wind Warden, clad in an enchanted armor of pristine white adorned with ivory feathers, surveyed his serene foe across the stage.
His lips curled downwards, gaze frigid like a winter night.
The inferior dared be so calm…
Wind Warden felt a bit insulted, his body screaming for the barricades to be raised. He would never accept that he was a mere side show, wanting nothing more than to end the infuriating mysteriousness of the low-ranker, who was garnering far more attention than he deserved.
