The roar of the crowd hit them like a tidal wave as they passed the entrance to the arena, but instead of stepping into the chaotic sea of elves, they veered toward a secluded staircase. A lone staff member, clad in ceremonial armor, bowed deeply and stepped aside, allowing them access to a private passage.
Xuefeng followed Yiren and the Queen up the stairs, his curiosity piqued. Unlike the deafening energy of the arena, the staircase was eerily quiet, the walls absorbing sound like a tomb. They emerged into an exclusive viewing room, spacious but minimalist. A long, plush couch sat at the center, angled toward the battlefield below, with a low table in front of it piled high with exotic fruits, golden pastries, and jewel-colored wines.
A glass-like barrier enclosed the balcony, blurring the deafening cheers from outside into a distant hum. Beyond it, the tournament unfolded—a storm of magic and violence crackling in the open air.
