The ground trembled beneath the thunder of thousands of synchronised boots. A wave of tension rippled through the air as shouts erupted from every corner of the colossal arena, echoing like a storm about to break.
Spears lowered.
Swords gleamed.
Shields slammed together with a bone-shaking clang.
Kaelen moved first.
Like a shadow torn straight from the flesh, he lunged into the mass—no hesitation, not a single breath wasted.
His hands morphed into claws, glistening like sharpened obsidian, curved and glowing faintly with a dark, sinister energy. His eyes locked onto the front line, pupils narrowing as every muscle in his body coiled with purpose.
Then, in a blink—
He vanished.
One second, he was still. The next, he was airborne.
Crack!
The air split with a deafening snap.
He descended like a meteor, claws outstretched, a living weapon of fury and speed.
