The excitement bubbling up in Fowler's heart was palpable.
It hadn't been long since he lost his Title—not even a year—but he had never felt so empty, so broken in his life. He had always hung his hat on his intelligence. Never once did he blame his station in life, instead believing that with enough time, he would always be able to turn everything around.
But just when he was finally there, finally sitting on the very precipice of it all…
It came crumbling down.
All because of this Sylas Grimblade.
But now, that would change. Now, he would return with what was rightfully his. Now, he would stand at the height he had always been meant to. Now…
Nothing happened.
Fowler blinked. The space above his head remained empty.
The surge of power and strength he had been waiting for never came.
The room of white hung in an odd silence. The woman and Old Brama were still waiting for the next round to begin. But Sylas, who hadn't made a move from the start, just stood there, unbothered.
