Leah stepped closer to the edge and looked down.
The arena shimmered beneath the morning sun, its pale stone glowing brighter with every passing moment, as if awakening alongside the city itself.
Soon after, Leah, Hentry, and Frauner began their descent from the arena tower.
A narrow spiral stair wound downward along the inner wall, carved directly into the stone. Leah moved carefully, her armored boots echoing softly with each step.
Frauner stayed close behind her, one hand occasionally brushing the wall for balance. Hentry, on the other hand, could barely contain himself, rushing ahead, skipping steps, peering through narrow slits in the stone to catch glimpses of the roaring crowd below.
"Slow down!" Leah called.
"I can hear them!" Hentry replied, grinning wildly. "The whole place is alive!"
At last, they emerged at the base of the tower and made their way toward the arena entrance.
The entrance itself was breathtaking.
Two colossal statues stood on either side, ancient warriors carved from white stone, their faces stern, their weapons raised toward the sky. One held a massive shield etched with runes of protection. Another gripped a sword whose tip rested upon the ground, symbolizing vigilance even in peace. Between them, the great gates of the arena rose high and wide, reinforced with bronze bands and carved with scenes of legendary battles.
Above the gates, banners of the mighty kingdom Karn Vael rippled in the wind, their colors bold and proud.
Thalia and Mauris were already there, tapping their feet impatiently.
"You're late!" Thalia said sharply. "What took you so long?"
"Relax," Mauris snapped back. "They had to climb up and down a tower."
He turned to Leah with a grin. "So! how was the ride?"
Leah smiled faintly. "It was… incredible," she said. "For a moment, everything below felt small. The wind was strong, the city silent beneath me. I felt free like nothing could hold me back."
"She almost fell and died," Hentry added, sticking his tongue out dramatically and making choking sounds.
"What?!" Thalia and Mauris shouted together.
Mauris immediately took Leah's hand. "Are you alright?" he asked, his voice low and serious.
"Prince in charm rescued her," Hentry teased.
Leah smacked him on the head. "Stop it already!" she snapped, her cheeks flushing red.
Mauris stared at Hentry, confused.
"Thank the gods you're safe," Mauris said, finally releasing Leah's hand.
"Let's go," Thalia said briskly. "It's getting late."
"Yes," Leah agreed, adjusting her armor. "We should."
Together, they walked into the arena, Leah at the center, Mauris close at her side, Hentry bouncing ahead, and Thalia and Fauner following just behind. The roar of the crowd grew louder with every step, vibrating through stone and bone alike.
At the main entrance, guards in polished armor bowed deeply.
"Welcome, Princess Leah of Grimfort," one said respectfully.
"May the gods of Karn Vael watch over you," said another.
They guided the group through an inner passageway and up toward the VIP gallery.
The arena was already overflowing.
Men and women, young and old; farmers, merchants, soldiers, nobles; all packed the stands. The rich wore fine silks and jeweled rings; the poor stood shoulder to shoulder, faces bright with excitement. Cheers, laughter, and chants rolled like thunder through the massive stone bowl.
High above, King Alric and Queen Elowen sat with royal officials, their presence commanding silence whenever eyes turned upward. Pride and expectation shone on their faces.
A deep horn blasted.
The sound rippled across the arena, silencing the crowd.
At the center of the arena floor, stone plates shifted and rumbled. Slowly, a circular platform rose from below.
Upon it stood an old man in battle-worn armor; scratched, dented, but meticulously cared for. His beard was long and white, braided with iron rings. His back was straight, his eyes sharp as a blade.
He raised his staff.
"People of the Kingdom of Karn Vael!" his voice boomed.
The crowd erupted.
"Behold...Broj Haldrik, Slayer of the North!" someone shouted.
"Haldrik! Haldrik!" the crowd chanted.
Broj Haldrik spread his arms wide.
"Welcome, sons and daughters of Karn Vael!
Where courage is tested, where names are carved into fate before gods who do not forgive weakness. You gather to witness legend being born! witness the mightiest battle laid before the gods of Karn Vael!"
Behind him stood three towering statues; three male gods carved from dark stone. One bore the sigil of the fortress, unbreakable and eternal. Another stood armored for war, blade raised high. The third watched silently, hands folded, the god of judgment and victory.
"They watch us," Haldrik declared, "to judge our strength!"
The crowd roared.
"I present to you," he continued, "the young blood… the future warrior… the one who will write history!"
Drums thundered.
"The legacy of Greyvale!"
The arena shook.
"The priiiiiiince...DAEMION!"
The crowd exploded into cheers so loud they echoed against the heavens.
Slowly, the great gate of the arena began to open.
Metal groaned.
Stone scraped.
And from the shadow beyond, a single footstep echoed onto the arena floor.