The royal viewing platform had gone silent.
This was the silence of prey realizing they'd been hunted all along.
King Rowen gripped his throne's armrests until his knuckles went white.
Adrian was sweating through expensive silk. The Arch Sage's ancient hands trembled on his staff.
Count Varic's crimson eyes were fixed on the arena floor like watching doom approach.
The Headmaster calculated escape routes and found none.
They were all staring at Dante standing on the blood-soaked sand below. Silver hair lifting in the wind. Black coat hanging loose. He looked like someone who'd just finished a morning walk, not someone who'd annihilated their best.
Then his head tilted upward. Slowly. Deliberately.
His eyes found them.
Dante's lips curved. He raised one hand and gestured.
The sky went dark.
SCREEEEEEEEEEE!
The wyvern descended like a meteor. Massive wings blotted out the sun. Crimson scales gleamed. The crowd screamed and dove for cover.
