As soon as Crunch was dropped into the sprawling arena, a wave of skeptical muttering rippled through both armies. The feline was still in his 'cute' size, and for those with keen enough eyes, the rotund cat didn't look remotely fit for a death match against an apex predator chosen to represent half a continent.
He seemed downright puny—completely insignificant.
"C-c'mon, this has to be a joke, right? Right?!" an archer from the Duskwight Lands blurted out, rubbing his eyes in dumbfounded disbelief at the smooshed-faced furball.
If a regular cat was already a questionable choice of champion to defend a nation's fate, the dopey look on this Himalayan—completely alien to this continent—was enough to leave them staggered. Most soldiers reacted in more or less the same way, though some tried harder to hide their astonishment.
The only exceptions were the ones from Ceythie's own army, who recognized the feline. Were they pleased about this choice? Not exactly…
