The arena was massive.
The seating rose in broad, sweeping tiers around a central platform that floated at mid-level, suspended without visible support, its surface made of divine-grade stone that had been specifically treated to absorb and redistribute the kind of output that god-level combat produced without transmitting it into the surrounding structure.
This thingy was probably fucking expensive, but well, the academy didn't do anything cheaply.
I sat in the third tier, arms resting on the seat in front of me, looking down at the platform below where the first match was approximately four minutes from beginning.
Kael sat to my left.
He had calmed down.
Mostly.
He was still doing the thing where he looked at me sideways every ninety seconds or so, opened his mouth, decided against whatever he'd been about to say, and closed it again.
He'd done it six times since we'd sat down.
