Outside the gate, Halvern turned to the news crews and gestured toward the district's edge.
"Begin packing up. Move your people out to the secondary perimeter. This is no longer a location I can guarantee as safe."
The journalists had already powered down their equipment when the readings spiked in recent times, and now they began gathering their gear, walking out of the plaza.
Halvern watched them go, then turned to the second Surpasser beside him and let out a long, heavy sigh.
"It's a waste. A true waste." He rubbed his temple in frustration. "Talents like these don't come along often. That young man, Moon, especially. I've watched his tournament footage a dozen times. Fighters like him appear once in a generation, and the kingdom needed him for another fifty years at least...And he's going to die in there. The worst part about it all was the fact that there was nothing anyone could have done differently to change the outcome."
