Once the Chancellor finished the opening speech, a dean stood up from his seat.
Dean Lincoln called out the participants to make their first appearance before the crowd—and the first one to be called was Chester. Following the call, the stadium groaned as the only gate finally rose open.
And the morning sun itself seemed to hold its breath at the sight of the silhouette behind it.
A figure stepped through, and the sunlight caught him like a declaration.
Chester walked onto the arena floor draped in a combat suit of midnight black; the fabric was tight-fitting and alive with faint pulses of mana that traced every contour of his frame. Blood-red lines blazed along his limbs, accentuating every cord of muscle, every lethal angle of his build.
A second skeleton of fire mapped onto the body of a fierce warrior.
