The sun rose slowly over Beastridge Mountain, casting golden rays across the frost-kissed peaks. A gentle mist curled at the base of the cliffs, rising like breath from the slumbering earth. The wind carried the scent of pine and ancient magic, stirring leaves and cloaks alike as the morning came alive with hushed excitement.
Dozens of floating platforms had been summoned by various powers, while banners fluttered proudly in the sky—each symbol telling tales of empires, guilds, and holy orders. The once tranquil mountain was now brimming with life, its silence broken by the chatter of thousands.
Luca stood beside Eric, the early sunlight gleaming off their uniforms. Aiden and Kyle soon joined them, each wearing expressions of quiet anticipation.
Eric whistled under his breath.
"Woah... look at the crowd."
Kyle gave a short nod, eyes scanning the crowd with practiced calm.
"Of course. There are participants from every major power here."
