In Arena Number 243, a continent-sized battlefield forged from primordial jungle and treacherous swamps, a palpable tension hung in the air.
A million champions from across the universe had been scattered across this deadly landscape, their hearts pounding with the thrill and terror of The Crucible.
The audience watched with bated breath, their collective gaze shifting between a hundred different screens, eager for the first clash, the first kill.
Many eyes were fixed on a single figure, a magnificent serpentine dragon of brilliant jade green, who hovered serenely above the dense canopy.
It was Thorn, the first apostle of Shenlong. The whispers in the live chat were a storm of speculation and anticipation.
They had seen Kalzarin, the Ice Dragon, annihilate an entire arena in a single, terrifying breath. They expected a similar display of overwhelming power.
But the massacre never came.
Thorn simply floated, a calm, almost indifferent observer to the chaos erupting below.
