DESCEND INTO SADISM

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.