Thane kept watching the battles with a relaxed gaze and posture, unbothered by the wide-open eyes glued to the arena, watching for excitement or to determine their own future.
Some victories came swiftly, others became desperate struggles that pushed young aspirants beyond their limits.
Dust rose into the morning air, wooden weapons whistled, and struck against one another with sharp cracks.
Cheers echoed from the stands as candidates rose and fell, while families watching their children despaired.
It was a merciless passage that forced countless into the depth of hell or carried them beyond the clouds. It could change fate or reduce all efforts to nothing.
Before long, another match was called... one that spectators looked forward to.
"Team 87. Step forward."
"Team 142. Step forward."
The crowd stirred. For one of those teams belonged to a familiar name.
Etno Kamsi.
The Krynovan swordsman calmly stepped into the fighting circle alongside his two companions.
