Varik stepped through what used to be the east gate and stopped dead.
The smell hit first. Burnt hide, scorched stone, the faint metallic tang of blood clinging to the air. Heat still radiated off the cracked floor like it was holding onto the last breaths of the monster that had died here.
He'd seen Lucen walk out carrying that civilian earlier, but… this was not the kind of battlefield you left standing after a "regular" fight.
His eyes swept the space. The arena's core section was gone, just gone. Collapsed inward like a sinkhole. He crouched, fingertips brushing the blackened edges of the nearest crater. The stone here was melted.
Melted.
That wasn't standard dungeon magic. That was mana output you only saw from high-A ranks and up, and it took most of them a few minutes of prep to push this much force.
Varik straightened slowly, gaze narrowing. 'He said it was dead. Didn't say how.'
