The arena fell silent in the aftermath of Kael's flight, the Dajin's blood-infused sigils smoldering across the cracked floor. The crowd gaped, some cheering, some frozen in awe. Kael hovered above the center, wings fully extended, lightning dancing along his scales, chest heaving but controlled. Loki floated beside him, tiny sparks flying off his body in excitement. "Master… congratulations. Flight. Total aerial dominance. You can now control your form in ways even the Storm Dragon legend rarely managed." Kael exhaled slowly, surveying the stunned fighters around him. "Good. That's one problem solved."
From the upper tiers of the arena, however, Kael did not notice the eyes tracking him. Silver, sharp, and calculating, Ylva Frostveil had remained at the perimeter, concealing her diminished aura, following his every move. Her frost-tinged hair whipped in the wind as she crouched on a high balcony, arms crossed, expression unreadable. She had watched him claim three victories—Dajin, Awakened, and rogue fighter alike—and though her body ached with power lost, her mind raced with strategies. He is strong. Too strong. I am weak—but not invisible. She whispered to herself, breath forming frost in the cold night air.
Kael landed, folding his wings neatly against his back, the energy around him pulsing in a faint storm rhythm. He turned, smirk curling at the corners of his lips, eyes scanning the defeated and the awed alike. "City rules are neat," he said to Loki. "No one dies, yet everyone learns who's boss." Loki floated upward, pointing toward the edges of the arena. "Master… someone is watching. Multiple signatures… Awakened, but different. More precise. Intentional." Kael's expression sharpened. "Figures. Nothing ever stays quiet when I show up."
At the very top of the stadium, cloaked figures melted into the shadows. One of them stepped forward, just enough for a sliver of silver hair to catch the light. Her eyes—ice-blue and gleaming—locked on Kael. Ylva. She had followed him through the mountain, through the trial, and now through the championship itself. She had survived, stayed hidden, and studied him—not out of weakness, but purpose.
Kael's attention flicked upward, sensing her presence instinctively, though he said nothing. "I don't do pets," he muttered to Loki, voice low. Loki chuckled softly. "She isn't a pet… yet." Kael's grin was faint, predatory. "We'll see."
The announcer's voice boomed over the city, oblivious to the subtle tension building above the crowd. "Champion claimed! The arena trembles in witness! Awakened of Sayo, take note—Kael Stormheart has risen above all!" The words barely registered for Kael; his eyes were fixed on the shadows where Ylva crouched, and beyond her, other figures shifting subtly, barely perceptible.
He did not yet know it, but the championship had only drawn the attention of far greater forces. Rogue Dajin had been just the beginning, and Kael's storm of power—unmatched, untamed—had already been recorded in the whispers of Awakened and monsters alike.
High above the arena, Ylva's lips curved into a smirk, frost shimmering faintly around her fingertips. "Interesting," she whispered. "He grows stronger with every fight… but he hasn't noticed me yet."
Kael landed in the center of the arena, wings folded, lightning dimming to a calm hum, and spoke aloud, voice carrying to every corner of the stadium: "Next fight. Whoever thinks they're strong enough—come find me."
From the shadows above, dozens of eyes gleamed, some human, some not. Among them, Ylva froze, excitement flashing in her silver eyes. He doesn't know what's coming…
And somewhere, deep in the city of Sayo, a faint pulse of crimson energy echoed from the old districts, a signal that far older, far hungrier forces had awakened.