The battle arena loomed like a colossal titan, its towering gates adorned with intricate carvings of warriors locked in eternal combat. The sheer scale of the structure was overwhelming, a testament to centuries of blood, sweat, and glory. As the Phoenix Clan convoy came to a halt before the entrance, Ryker stepped out, his crimson eyes widening with awe.
The muffled roar of the crowd beyond the massive walls sent a shiver down his spine. It wasn't just noise—it was the sound of anticipation, of warriors clashing, of reputations being forged and shattered.
Behind him, Mathias stood, his arms crossed as he observed his young master's reaction. "It's amazing, isn't it?"
Ryker exhaled slowly, his heart pounding. "It's the most incredible sight I've ever seen. We're still outside, yet I can feel the energy of the crowd. I can only imagine what it's like inside."
Mathias nodded at his enthusiasm. "The arena holds a long and storied history. It has been one of Searing Flame City's greatest attractions for over five centuries. For all those years, warriors—both awakened and unawakened—have tested their mettle here, refining their techniques in real combat. Countless prodigies have made their names within these very walls."
Ryker's eyes gleamed with excitement. "Does that mean I'll fight here someday?"
Mathias smirked. "That is entirely up to you, young master."
As they spoke, a man dressed in regal robes adorned with the insignia of the Arena's administration approached swiftly. His steps were quick but respectful, and the moment he reached Ryker, he bowed deeply. "Good day to you, Your Eminence. Have you come to witness the marvels of the arena firsthand?"
Ryker hesitated at the title. "Your Eminence?"
The man straightened, smiling. "Is the title not to your liking?"
"It's not that—I'm just surprised, that's all. I'd prefer if you addressed me as Young Master," Ryker replied. "And yes, I'm touring the city today and wanted to experience the arena for myself."
The man's smile widened. "Splendid. Then please, follow me. I shall escort you to your private viewing booth."
Ryker glanced at Mathias, who gave him a small nod of approval. Taking a deep breath to calm his excitement, he turned back to the man. "Lead the way."
The official inclined his head before turning toward a grand entrance, walking with practiced ease. Ryker followed, his senses overwhelmed by the sheer scale of the arena. The energy in the air was almost tangible, the cheers of the spectators echoing through the passageways like rolling thunder.
Before long, they arrived at the private booth. The guards, ever diligent, swept the room with their keen eyes before granting Ryker entry. The moment he stepped inside, his breath caught in his throat.
The private booth exuded pure opulence, a seamless blend of cutting-edge technology and refined mysticism. Elevated above the arena stands, it offered an unparalleled panoramic view of the battlefield, enclosed by shimmering mana-infused glass walls that pulsed faintly in response to the emotions of those inside.
The seating was luxurious—plush chairs imbued with mana threads that subtly adjusted to the occupant's comfort. The upholstery, crafted from rare iridescent fabric, shifted colors like a living tapestry under the ambient light. A sleek, holographic control panel floated at the center of the room, allowing guests to adjust the temperature, audio levels, and even the transparency of the walls for absolute privacy.
Above, a luminous mana chandelier cast a soft glow reminiscent of a starry night, while the floor beneath was a masterpiece of obsidian and mana-etched designs that flickered as if alive. Holographic displays embedded in the walls provided real-time statistics and battle highlights from across the arena.
At one side of the booth, a refreshment station held a selection of exotic delicacies and mana-infused drinks designed to enhance focus and replenish energy. AI-enhanced attendants moved with ghostly precision, ensuring every guest's needs were met without intrusion.
The entire booth was shielded by an invisible mana barrier, silencing the deafening roar of the crowd while allowing the raw energy of the atmosphere to filter through like a tangible current. It was a place where power, wealth, and magic converged—a sanctuary for those who ruled over the spectacle below.
Ryker took in a deep breath, steadying himself. The man who had escorted him chuckled softly. "This is one of our finest rooms.
Still absorbing the luxury around him, Ryker forced himself to refocus. "Are there any particularly interesting matches today?"
"As a matter of fact, there is. The second son of theTiantu Clan's head is competing against our reigning novice-rank champion."
Ryker raised an eyebrow. "Is that all? Any other major matchups?"
The official chuckled. "Young Master, you don't seem impressed."
Mathias intervened, explaining, "The Young Master has never left the estate until today. He is unfamiliar with many of the city's talents. Young Master Li Shenlong will be turning eight this year and has yet to awaken. The reason this match is so highly anticipated is because an unawakened child is daring to challenge a peak novice-ranked opponent. Normally, such a challenge would be considered suicidal. Even if his opponent were an early-stage novice rank, it would still be an overwhelming disadvantage."
Ryker's eyes gleamed with interest. "Oh? Now I'm eager to see how it unfolds."
Just then, the roar of the crowd surged, signaling the beginning of a match.
The grand announcer's voice boomed across the arena, his words dripping with theatrical grandeur. "LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, PREPARE YOURSELVES FOR A CLASH OF MIGHT AND WILL! FIRST, ENTERING FROM THE SHADOWS OF THE BLACK IRON BARRENS— GLADIUS, THE SPEAR OF DESPAIR!"
From the shadowed archway, a towering warrior emerged, clad in dark armor that seemed to drink in the surrounding light. His spear, longer than most men were tall, crackled with a faint red glow. The very ground trembled beneath his measured strides, an ominous presence settling over the battlefield.
"And his challenger!" the announcer's voice carried an unmistakable note of intrigue. "A blade unrefined but unyielding—a warrior of youthful defiance. Barely thirteen summers old, yet bearing the spirit of an ancient flame, THE AVENGER!"
A young swordsman stepped into the light. His armor, dented and worn, bore the marks of countless battles. His eyes burned with quiet determination as he met his opponent's gaze without a trace of fear.
The two fighters stood in stark contrast—one a colossal titan of destruction, the other a boy armed with nothing but his blade and willpower. The crowd held its breath as the ceremonial drumbeats began to pulse.
Then, with a final thunderous beat, the match began.
Ryker leaned forward, his heart pounding with anticipation. This was his first true glimpse of the world beyond the estate—the raw, untamed battlefield where only the strong survived.
And he would learn from it all.