Silence lingered heavily throughout the arena.
The dark clouds above continued churning endlessly while countless distorted humanoid shadows moved slowly behind the darkness like predators observing prey from beyond the heavens.
No one relaxed.
Not anymore.
The surrounding race leaders remained tense while secretly preparing themselves for the possibility of battle at any moment.
Yet despite everything—
GrandLord Dreath still had not moved.
That fact continued bothering everyone more and more.
Because the GrandLord Dreath they knew—
Was not cautious.
Not patient.
Certainly not passive.
Ancient stories described him as violent, prideful, overwhelming, and terrifyingly direct in battle.
A being who once crushed invading races personally simply because they annoyed him.
And yet now—
He floated there silently.
Watching.
Careful.
Almost restrained.
The longer it continued—
The stranger it became.
