A heavy silence fell upon the coliseum.
Kent Harrow, who had always carried a faint, amused smile, now stood with an expression completely void of emotion.
Then—
A simple-looking wand materialized in his hand.
It was plain, unadorned—nothing like the grand, gem-embedded staffs wielded by archmages.
Yet—
The moment it appeared…
The world itself seemed to halt.
The howling winds of Alaric's Torrential Downpour suddenly stilled.
The cascading rain stopped mid-fall, droplets frozen in place.
The air became suffocatingly dense—as if reality itself was being held hostage by an unseen force.
A strange, foreign aura spread across the coliseum, an unnatural presence that made the strongest warriors in the audience feel a primal fear crawl up their spines.
Kaelen's fingers twitched, his grip tightening around the Blade of Eternity.
"What is this…?" he muttered, his gaze darting around.