The world blurred into golden brilliance.
Blinding lights shimmered into existence above the battlefield, cascading down like a divine curtain, engulfing every remaining participant of the Sovereign Trial.
The mayhem, the blood, the groaning earth—all of it was swept away by that radiant glow. For a moment, time seemed suspended in the grip of something greater than fate.
And then, with a resonant buzzing hum that rattled the very air, the participants vanished—teleported in a flash of light, leaving the bloodstained land of the trial behind.
Moments later, ten figures reappeared.
They materialized into a massive circular chamber, its walls forged from seamless obsidian laced with living veins of gold.
Runes pulsed softly across the surface—ancient, regal, their glow casting warm reflections on the polished floor. The chamber thrummed with power, an oppressive silence settling over it like the breath before a storm.
