The stadium breathed.
Not loudly.
Not excitedly.
But with a low, steady anticipation that settled into the stone seats, the white terraces, the carved verses along the walls. Above, the projection arrays stabilized fully, their light soft yet absolute—every corner of the Ten Kingdoms now watching the same stage.
Twelve figures stood upon the central platform.
Twelve voices.
Twelve philosophies.
The elder of the Ink–Moon Kingdom stepped forward once more, his tone composed, ritualistic.
"Stage One," he announced.
"League Presentations."
"One poem each."
"Freely chosen."
"No rebuttal."
"No debate."
"Let words stand alone."
A pause.
"Let the speakers reveal themselves."
The first name was called.
"Xu Qinghe.
Verdant River Kingdom."
A young man stepped forward.
