The arena exploded.
A storm of raw, merciless power tore through the calm beneath the crimson dome. Ten auras surged all at once—each one carrying the oppressive weight of the sixth stage—rushing forward like crashing waves, all converging upon a single rock in their path: Selene.
But she did not retreat.
Her red robe whipped violently in the wind. Her eyes narrowed. Her feet stood firm against the trembling earth. In her grip, the glowing red sword pulsed like a second heartbeat. Every cell in her body screamed not for survival…
…but for them.
All of them.
The soldiers standing atop the walls, the servants hidden behind protective seals, the students trembling behind layered wards… they all depended on her. On one woman alone.
The first to move was a massive man, skin as dark as coal, covered in glowing flame—tattoos that pulsed with power. He raised both arms, and a wall of fire erupted toward her like a devouring tide.
